Wow, Netta thought when the nurse explained to her about the period of uncertainty as to whether if she would survive.
Slowly, bits and pieces of her memory came back as Netta forced herself to think. She forced herself to recall exactly what happened that fateful night. Unsettling images of the assault began to replay in her mind. She recalled vividly the rage in Black’s face, and the savagery of the beating. Then she remembered the dream she just had. Now she understood the reason behind it. Suddenly it all made sense.
“Sweetheart, you are one tough cookie. God has blessed you. I’ve seen people pass away from much less. When it ain’t your time to go, it ain’t your time to go. No man can change that.” The nurse added, “Shanetta Jackson, you are truly blessed. The Lord has His hands all over you. He has something better in store for you once you heal up and get back on your feet.”
Netta was glad that the nurse was singing her praises, because she wasn’t so sure about that, or anything else at this point. She had a lot of soul searching to do.
Exactly who the hell am I? she wondered.
That was a good question. Was she Shanetta Jackson from Murphy Homes? Or Netta from the Pussy Pound? She had been so many things to so many people in her life that she had lost sight of her true identity.
She had no idea what the real answer was. After all that she had just been through, physically and emotionally, it was no wonder she couldn’t think clearly. Her thoughts were all over the place, in a state of confusion.
Netta wasn’t sure what the future looked like, but she wasn’t going back to what she had been.
“Thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve told me,” Netta admitted humbly.
“It’s the truth, Sweetie. I don’t say this of my own accord. The Lord told me to tell you. You are going to be alright,” the nurse claimed. “Amen.”
Once the nurse got off her pulpit, she succeeded in putting the proper perspective on Netta’s current situation while at the same time giving her hope for a full recovery. Now Netta knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she would survive this, just like she had every other blow that life had dealt her. Netta’s internal scars would heal quickly. But it would take a lot of time for her mental scars to mend.
The nurse confessed, “You know, while you was in that coma, the police been coming by every day to check on you. They wanted to see if you were feeling well enough to talk. Or if things had taken a turn for the worst. Of course you were incapacitated, so I used that to run them away.”
The mere mention of the police had Netta’s full attention. There were a thousand things going on in her mind. Her future. Her past. What she was going to do next. Now this. She was the victim. They had to know that. The police probably wanted to protect her. Maybe even save her, but she didn’t need them to do that. Netta felt she could hold her own.
However true or untrue that notion was, one thing she wasn’t going to do was snitch. Netta wasn’t pointing any fingers or making any statements in regards to Black. What happened to her was going to stay in the streets.
The nurse continued, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep the police from talking to you now. But beside the police, there were a few young ladies here. They said that they were friends of yours. Didn’t catch all their names, there were so many. And this handsome looking young man with a New York accent came to check on you too. I think he said his name was Antonio?.... Tony?...”
“You mean Tone?” Netta replied.
“Yes, that sounds about right,” she concluded. “That’s his name. Now if you would excuse me Sweetie, I got some other rounds to make and some paperwork to do. The doctor will be in to see you soon. But in the meantime, I’ll call down to the kitchen and have them send you up some lunch.”
“Okay. Thanks,” Netta replied. “Nurse, I hate to bother you, but could you help me out of bed. I need to get a look at myself.”
The nurse adjusted the high bed railing, moving it into a lower position so that Netta could place her legs on the side of the bed and prepare to take her first steps since coming out of her coma. She was feeling a little self-conscious dressed in her paper-thin hospital gown, parts of her nude body were exposed by the slit in the back.
Netta needed assistance just lifting her upper body off the bed. Nurse McNeil gave her a helping hand, pulling her to an upright position with her legs dangling off the bed. That little bit of movement took a lot of energy and effort on Netta’s part. Her back began to stiffen and her muscles started to ache from not using them for the past week.
“You okay Sweetie?” the nurse asked.
“Yes, other than a few aches and pains here and there, I’m fine,” she admitted.
“Just take your time trying to walk. Your mind might be telling you one thing, but your body may have other ideas,” the nurse said. “We don’t want you to fall.”
The nurse reached out both her hands, offering Netta some support. Netta took hold of her hands and slowly stepped off the bed. Instantly she felt unsteady on her feet as he legs began to tremble under her body weight. Her legs were shaky at first. The socks she had on were no help either. The floor was more slippery than it should have been. This reaction cast doubt in her mind, it made her hesitant to take her
