Even if I meet Michael Phelps | Teen Ink

Even if I meet Michael Phelps

September 7, 2008
By Anonymous

Nancy was exhilarated that after eight years of medicine study and training, she finally got her dream job: working as a cardiologist. What amazed her more was that she was not about to work in a hospital like her classmates; she is going to work in, proudly, American National Swimming Team. She had never even dreamed of such an assembly of the most excellent people-the most notable athletes, the most intelligent doctors and physiotherapists and the most experienced coaches. She seemed to be stamped “therefore, I am also the best!” on her forehead by working in such a team. She looked into the mirror, imaging there was a big red circle on her cheek in which there were two letters: 1A. She laughs.

She officially started her work from the second day. Her work was to provide injured swimmers suitable therapies. She read through many data about athletes’ physical feature information collected by the proceeding cardiologists. She was amazed by the background of the athletes. Some of them have always been the best swimmers in schools while some of them are currently not accomplished affluently yet, but the coach believed in their potentials. “They are my oyster in which there will be something even surprises me”, remarked by Ted, the cordial coach who seems a father figure to the team. As she went through the measurements of athlete’s physical strength, she admired them, from deep of her heart. Particularly, there was one male swimmer surprises her more than others, in term of medical characteristics. According to the data, he has unusual height and rate of growing, comparing to other students, when he was a teenager. “He is unbelievable talent, and he will be the black horse in the coming Beijing Olympic game”, he told Nancy, staring her with solid confidence. Nancy venerated Ted and his judgements. But there was something that lingering in her mind, as a doctor’s instinct: everyone human being is a balanced individual. If he has such outstanding physical strength, his stability of mental health which is always the crucial complementary health, might be interesting to be further investigated. The moment she opened the page of his personal medical history, she knew she was right: he has ADHD.

Nancy did study the disorder theoretically, but she does not have experiences of treating patients who have ADHD through cycles of therapies, therefore, she asked the help from team psychologists. Luckily, she receives invitation from senior doctors to learn about the special types of therapies. She eagerly learned and took notes, in order to fill up the hole on her experience paper.

Now, she is sitting under a pine tree on grass, alone, going through her notes. The breeze impulsively flips pieces of dew on the grass into her pastry. The movement pauses for as short as the time it takes for the brainstorm appears in Nancy’s mind. Then, one drop of dew sneakily leans a little towards one wrinkle on the pastry, dropping and keeping accelerating, until it reaches Nancy’s skirt. Almost at the same moment, all the other dew follow the first dew, impatiently, hit the bottom of lunch box. Nancy turns her head, towards the dews in her lunch box, being amused and thinking. “Is it that hard for you to sit still, little ones?” she asks, sympathetically. “I would say, yes”, a voice comes from her back. Nancy widens her eyes, and nearly forgets to gentle exhale. “In fact, that is the question which has been asked by my teachers”, the voice continues. Encouraging herself to overcome the embarrassment of such a strangeness, Nancy turns. Her heart nearly screams, as she sees the handsome face. This is a very clean and slim face, closely under the straight but not steep eye bow; there is a pair of brown eyes which says candid, honestly and charming. His jaw is very likely to be her Irish father’s, strong and smooth. “Hello, my name is Michael Phelps, a swimmer in the team. Ted told me you are my new cardiologists. Nice to meet you!” he holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, too, Mike, my name is Nancy”, she answers, reaching his hand. Instantly, she feels resistant strength and hospitality is penetrating into her blood.

“Nancy? Wow! I guess you are the eighth Nancy we have got in our team. What is your last name?”
“Drew-
“Nancy Drew? Oh, that is my favourite cartoon. Which episode does you like the most? I like the one when Nancy falls into a giant sugar can. How happy would that be, right?”
“Right, but there is a little things can be corrected. My last name is Drewanrance.” She smiles.
“Oh, I am so sorry. Nancy Drew-how to pronounce it again? Drewara? (Nancy,” Drewanrance”) I am sorry? Oh, Drewaran! (Nancy, “almost, Drewanrance”, laughs) Oh, I see this time. But I think I would just call you Nancy, so-“
“Yeah, call me whatever you feel comfortable.” She cordially smiles, releasing a piece of warm sweatiness in the air. But it is fast blown away by the breeze.
Nancy’s heart feels disappointed. If there is no anticipation, there is no disappointment. She regrets giving the expectation to start something between them. “Even though it is a beautiful glance, you have to realize you are only looking at the skin. As a cardiologist, what you really care is the red organ inside, right Nancy?” she asks herself. She has never imagined her first impulse has ended this fast, well, maybe that is the reason it is called an impulse, she thinks.
But she needs to break her embarrassment. “I am sorry about what I just said. I was talking about some dews on my pastry. They fall into my lunch box, unfortunately, but I-
“Oh, that is Okay. I know a doctor will never speak out loud about a patient’s disease. I was just joking.” He smiles, gently, with his eyes curving to his eyes bows.
“Thank you for understanding, Michael”, says she. Also, Nancy wonders if he should also thanks her for her understanding of his impatience which results that Nancy never had a chance to finish her sentence. But she thinks it is selfish to make such a demand, for he is innocent for his uncontrollable impatience.
Michael looks down a little. He obviously feels the difference, or even gap, between a doctor and an athlete: one is always studying the inside while the other trains for the out side shape. He finally sees there is a type of girls who do not scream “I love you” to him. “That is strange”, he thinks,” Maybe that is the reason these people become doctors”.
“So, you are having lunch right now”, Nancy asks, with total recovering.
“Oh, yeah. Well, actually no, I am going to the other stadium”, he answers, smiling, looking into her eyes.
This time, on her smiling face, Nancy’s blue eyes are firm like ice which could absorb some heat without going through phase change.

However, she receives something strange. She sees Mike’s eyes are gradually widened, filling with startle. Suddenly, he says, “Oh, damn it. I am going to be late for practice. Oh, I am sorry, pardon my language, but I really have to go. I will see you next time!” he says, as he has already could not be seen.
“Alright, Michael, I will see you!”

Standing in front of the mirror, Nancy is looking at her face. Time flies, it is unbelievable it has been eight months since she came to the team. Meanwhile, telling from the new confidence on her face, she thinks it is believable it has been eight months. She turns on her TV, starts to watch Beijing 2008 the Olympic Game, particularly, her swimming team. Mike performs extremely well this time. He got seven medals during the competition. Right now, he is standing on the award stage, smiling and receiving his eighth gold metal. All the present girls are crazy about him. Nancy smiles, maybe for Mike’s success, maybe for the hilarious screaming girl scene which pulls her imagination to go some impossible place where she could be as immature as those flowers.

The author's comments:
i like writing something which is quite impossible to happen. THAT IS WHO IMAGINATION HELPS ME LIVE A "IMPOSSIBLE LIFE"

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