This week I’m sharing some of the micro-stories that I’ve written, as assignments for an online course. It’s a non-credit course, which I’m taking partially for fun and partially for a more serious reason. The latter is to (hopefully!) prevent my disease-related mild cognitive impairment (MCI) from worsening.
My concentration has been impacted by the MCI, so I’m targeting activities that I can do in short bursts; before I lose the ability to focus on a particular idea or topic. The format of this online course is fantastic for my situation, as each week there are fifteen or so course modules that can each be completed in fifteen to thirty minutes.
Sometimes I can do a few modules, here and there throughout the day, while other days I can’t manage to finish any of them. If I fall behind it doesn’t matter too much, because it’s a follow-your-own-pace course. This lets me keep my brain active and engaged, while working around the limitations of the MCI.
The MCI, by the way, is a result of a rare autoimmune and neuro-inflammatory disease; Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (CRPS), still sometimes referred to by its former name which was Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy (RSD). As the name implies, CRPS is considered to be a severe chronic pain condition.
The story I’m sharing today was the result of a course assignment with specific requirements, some of which included to:
- Be loosely based on a recent news headline (I used “Exercise can help in the fight against cancer, but how do we persuade patients to do it?”(1)
- Have a maximum length of 500 words
- Create a character, using clear and expressive language, for example to provide a description of their thoughts, and some of their back story…
Here’s the fiction story that I came up with, based on that one headline. I managed to sneak in some chronic pain awareness, the feelings of a patient not being truly heard by his physician – of being provided neither actionable medical advice nor a solid plan.
This micro-story came in with one word to spare, at four hundred and ninety-nine words out of the five hundred permitted 😉
Carlos’ doctor had just told him that he should get more exercise, said that it would help with his knee pain.
“But how the heck am I s’posed to ‘get out there and walk’,” he mumbled under his breath, “when my knee is killing me? I mean, man, didn’t the doc hear me talking about that for the past 20 minutes – how it feels like one bone’s grinding right down onto another one?!”
It was like that stupid joke that Juan had told at the bar last night, where they’d celebrated Manuelito’s 40th birthday: “Your x-ray showed a broken bone, but we fixed it in PhotoShop!”
It had pissed him off at the time, but he had to admit it was a good joke.
“Maybe I shoulda told the stupid doctor that one! Let him know what I REALLY think of his advice.”Shaking his head and still grumbling to himself, Carlos was looking down at his offending knee as he shoved open the door to the medical centre. Still upset, he used much more force than he’d intended – after all, he’d been playing hockey until he’d ended up with a bum knee a few weeks back – he felt the door handle shudder with an impact at the same time as he heard a loud “thwrrrup”.
Suddenly alert, still clenching the door handle in his hand, Carlos looked up. “Oh no, no, no, no!” An elderly woman had been on her way into the same clinic, pushing a two-wheeled walker ahead of her. He’d smashed to door into it, and now she was tottering beside her walker, obviously thrown off balance by its jarring halt. It looked as though she as going to topple over sideways, right onto the concrete walkway, with her hands up near her face.
“Dios mio, don’t let her fall, please, please, por favor!”, Carlos prayed, “Not because of me!” With her walker partially blocking the door, Carlos used an unaccustomed burst of energy to squeeze himself around it and rush to her side. He skidded to a stop behind her, just in time to get his meaty hands onto her shoulders, cooing to her “I’ve got ya now, you’re not gonna fall!” He eased the old lady’s hands back onto her mobility device, apologizing the whole time…
As he came up beside her, he stopped dead. She looked so much like his own beloved grandmother Maria Luisa, who’d passed away back home last year… before he could get back to say good-bye. He hadn’t realized that there were tears streaming down his face until she raised a gnarled hand to wipe them off his cheek. Now she was comforting him, saying they should sit on the bench just beside the door.
His knee pain forgotten, he solicitously helped her to the bench, settling her shawl more securely around her neck once she was seated. His grandmother had always had a cold neck…
Sandra Woods; Introduction to fiction writing, course assignment; 2020
“Sit, sit. Stop fussing now, young man, and tell me what’s wrong.”
As always, thank you for stopping by the blog!
Reference
(1) Alex Hutchinson. “Exercise can help in the fight against cancer, but how do we persuade patients to do it?” Globe and Mail (newspaper). 20 Jan 2020. Accessed 05 Feb 2020:
https://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/health-and-fitness/article-exercise-can-help-in-the-fight-against-cancer-but-how-do-we-persuade/