If you put it like that, then maybe
by Deborah Zafer
Body asked to speak to me.
“The thing is,” it said, leaning back in Chair, “you used to be unkind, but now you keep talking about how wonderful I am and how everyone should love their Body.”
“Yes?” I said, unsure where this was going.
“Well, to be honest,” Body replied, thinking how much a cigarette would enhance this intense and special moment, “it seems sort of hypocritical.”
Body was right.
Before we got ill, I was always criticizing Body for its too-fat-ass, too-small-breasts, and total inability to play sports. To be honest, I would moan about Body to anyone who would listen.
“Yeah, and don’t forget the yo-yo eating,” said Body, letting everything out whilst it had Ear to itself.
Body had a point there too. For a long time, Body never did know where its next meal was coming from or what it might consist of.
Body has been behaving pretty badly itself though lately, let’s not forget. The first time we went to Hospital, Body tried to lie down on the floor and say, “What’s wrong with me? Help me!” until I had a stern word and reminded it that Doctor would not take us seriously if we behaved like that.
“We’ll get a better result if we act like the professional, middle-class person we actually are,” I said to Body as it cried in the toilet.
Body rallied and got back in line where we waited together fearfully.
“Everyone gets tired,” Doctor said when she eventually saw us. “Maybe you should try exercise?”
Body and I shrugged. We could hardly get out of Chair by this point, let alone run.
Then, when our test results came back, Doctor raised her Eyebrow and said to Nurse, “Wow, look how deranged the Liver is!”
“Ah, interesting,” Nurse said, smiling at Doctor over our Head and ordering more tests.
Body and I did not want to be interesting.
After we got home, Body said, “Couldn’t Doctor have said disturbed or something a little less offensive?”
I agreed; it wasn’t a nice way to talk about us.
When we feel better, Body and I plan to write an essay about the power of words. Body is definitely an under-represented author, so we think our chances of being published are so-so.
After a few more trips to Hospital and more tests, it turned out Liver was attacking Bile Ducts, totally unprovoked.
Body and I took Bile Ducts out for a drink. “We’re nervous about living next to an aggressor,” they said, taking tiny sips.
Body and I nodded. We said we would do what we could. We didn’t want to lose them.
Later, Liver told Body it was cross I hadn’t cared for it before when everything was fine. It reminded Body about all the nights I drank too much and it cleaned me up. It said it hadn’t meant to hurt Bile Ducts.
On reflection, I had to agree.
I thanked Body for keeping the peace.
I felt worse when on our next visit, Doctor said it wasn’t Liver’s fault. Our condition is often triggered by trauma.
“Can you think of one?” asked Doctor.
Funnily enough, I could.
So, I told Liver not to feel bad, that it wasn’t Liver’s fault.
Liver seemed relieved, and after we started medication, it did eventually become less deranged, which was good.
Once we knew what was wrong, Mind got involved too. It conducted research, joined a Facebook Group and created a spreadsheet to keep tabs on us.
“None of what Mind is doing makes a difference,” Body whispered to me when Mind was otherwise engaged.
“I know,” I said, softly so as not to disturb Mind, “but Mind just wants a role. It’s trying to help, that’s all.”
Body shrugged and looked away moodily. Mind and Body don’t always see eye to eye. It’s one of those things. They both think they are the boss.
Nowadays though, we do get on better. Me, Mind, Body, Liver, Bile Ducts. Mind has us on a special diet and cooks healthy meals with Hands which Body appreciates. I try and show I am grateful for them on good days, rather than being one of those friends who only calls when things go wrong.
I tell them I’m not atypical; most people don’t consider their organs when they’re working fine. Liver felt sad to hear this, not just for itself but for all the others it’s close to like Stomach and Kidney.
Doctor said that eventually, we may have to replace Liver. We’re none of us happy about that—especially Mind. Even Bile Ducts say they prefer the devil they know, especially as there’s no guarantee New Liver might not get all attack-y too. To be honest, it frightens us. Some nights we can’t sleep for thinking about it.
On those nights Heart sometimes aches, even though Mind says none of this has anything to do with it at all.
On those nights Body cradles us and we are grateful.
The rest of the time we cohabit peacefully. We share food, we take our meds, we go out walking, we talk. I’m glad we found a healthier way to communicate.
One final thing. When we were healthy, Body and I often used to go to town and dance all night. Even Mind would lose itself and dress up in glitter and sparkles.
We were quite something. You should have seen us.
Body doesn’t hold it against me that I never praised it at the time. In fact, it is Body who sometimes takes me by the Hand now and says kindly, “We can still dance; try us,” while Mind hovers above, smiling shyly as if to say, “Me? Really? Well, if you insist.”
Then we get up out of Chair.
We sway. All of us together. We try our best—and sometimes, although we may seem deranged, there’s even a little bit of the old Magic, still there.
ABOUT THE CREATOR
Deborah Zafer lives in London with her family and rabbits. She can be found @deborahzafer on Twitter and at www.deborahzafer.com. She has only recently been brave enough to start submitting and now has work published or forthcoming in Janus Literary, A Thin Slice of Anxiety, Scrawl Place, and 3am Magazine.