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Entry date: 8-1-2023 – The Bet – Letters to My Friends

Updated: Sep 7, 2023

Dear Friends,

Just going to jump right into the bet on this first day of August.


Marcy whirred around her floor, the fifth floor to be exact, like a wound-up rabbit that night. She felt strong, and even more so, for the first time in a few weeks, she felt alive. It was killing her to not use her new “power” even more.

The idea of helping people who were suffering was almost overpowering. As Marcy made her second set of rounds, she stopped into see Betsy and check on her vitals.

“Hello, dear,” said a smiling Betsy.

“Hi, Betsy. How are you feeling?” asked Marcy.

“Much better. I don’t know if it is the meds or just seeing your adorable face.”

Marcy blushed at this but remembered it was probably just the magic, or whatever it was, from the bet.

“You’re too kind, Betsy.”

Marcy checked Betsy’s vitals and her incisions, and everything was normal. Her wounds were progressing nicely, and with any luck, Betsy’s time in the hospital would be short.

“Everything looks good, Betsy. Is there anything I can do for you before you go to sleep? You do really need to get some rest.”

“Can you sit with me for a minute?”

“Sure, I can spare a few minutes for my favorite new patient.”

Betsy smiled at this and nodded to the chair next to her hospital bed. Marcy hated these chairs. They were not nearly as comfortable as they looked. If you sat in one for a little while, it was fine, but if you were going to be there for a long time, it was not a fun experience. The hospital did this on purpose.

Marcy sat down and looked her new patient in the eyes. They were glassy from the pain meds, but still bright and ready to listen.

“Tell me about yourself, dear,” said Betsy.

“Well, I’ve been working here on this floor for about five years now and I love it. Before that, I was in the ER for … lemme see… must’ve been almost three years.”

“Are you married? Any children?”

“I am. I’m married to a wonderful guy named Paul and we have two children, Winny and Billy.”

“I bet it’s hard for them to have you here all night.”

“It is, I think, but they are used to it. Paul takes good care of the kids and my schedule allows me to have a lot of time with them, too. It works out really well.”

Betsy smiled and nodded her head.

“I’m so glad, dear. I never married, myself. I got close a few times, but I guess it wasn’t in the cards. I had my fair share of kids, though. (She laughed) I was a school teacher for twenty-seven years,” shared Betsy.

“Oh my, Betsy. That’s amazing. You don’t look old enough to have taught that long.”

“Now you’re being too kind, dear. I’m 57 years old. Too old to be dealing with this nonsense,” said Betsy as she motioned to her stomach and groin area.

“I can understand that, Betsy. You talked about teaching in past tense. Did you retire?”

“Yes, dear. I retired when I found out I had cancer. I had enough time in and a nice pension. I could afford to just take care of myself. I didn’t want this crud to be the end of me.”

“It’s not going to be the end of you. I promise. I bet you’re going to live for a long time.”

The words came out of Marcy’s mouth carelessly. She hadn’t meant to say it, but she did. She could feel the blood rushing from her face.

“Is everything okay?” Betsy looked concerned.

“It is,” said Marcy as she got up. She smoothed out her scrubs and patted Betsy on the hand. “I need to go see your neighbors, but I’ll be in later. You better be asleep when I come in.” Marcy winked at Betsy and started for the door.

“Okay, okay. I’ll do it. Good night, dear.”

“Goodnight, Betsy.”

Marcy headed toward her next stop, but not before stopping and taking a big swig of her water. What have I done, she thought.


See you tomorrow.

La Huasteca is tasty!

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