After the First Tests
&
After the Tests
at the Mayo Clinic
Maggie Rue Hess
Maggie Rue Hess (she/her) is a PhD student living in Knoxville, Tennessee, with her partner and crusty white dog. Her work has appeared in Rattle, Connecticut River Review, SWWIM, and other publications; her debut chapbook, The Bones That Map Us, was published by Belle Point Press in 2024. She likes to share baked goods with friends and can be found on Instagram as @maggierue_.
After the First Tests
The doctors say We need to take more blood They say his white blood cells are low
My husband says Well, who knows with my family history
He says Now they’re scheduling an ultrasound The doctors say there are signs of scarring
and enlargement, diagnose it as moderate to severe My husband says Like my sister
He says transplant and surgery and maybe not but probably I say Well, if that’s the case
take part of my liver He says I don’t want you to go through that
The doctors say Let’s do more tests The blood doctor says she found a low platelet count
low white blood cells I say What I read online is that your spleen is hiding them
My husband’s sister says he needs an MRI The doctors say We’ve scheduled you
for an MRI in four days
My husband says their biggest concern is internal bleeding, They say the blood wouldn’t
stop itself I say Do you need my blood? I’m a universal donor He says I don’t think
that’s how it works I say But if it is, I’m ready I say I’m ready
The doctors say That’s the biggest spleen we’ve seen in 10 years; the liver is spotty;
there are cysts in your kidneys
The doctors don’t say to be worried or to be calm My husband doesn’t say
when it hurts, where on a scale from 1 to 10 I don’t say I’ve been diagnosing my fear,
my courage dissolving like sugar I don’t say I’ve been crying, just a little, in private
My horoscope says a planet is a body My husband says his body is a planet out of orbit
I say take mine, take my gravity, take whatever you need The doctors say take it easy
I say The doctors he says the doctors say and I say My husband
and I say My liver and my husband says My liver and he says We’ll find out
After the Tests at the Mayo Clinic
An erasure of "After the First Tests"
I
The doctors say We need to take more blood They say his white blood cells are low
My husband says Well, who knows with my family history
He says Now they’re scheduling an ultrasound The doctors say there are signs of scarring
and enlargement, diagnose it as moderate to severe My husband says Like my sister
He says transplant and surgery and maybe not but probably I say Well, if that’s the case
take part of my liver He says I don’t want you to go through that
The doctors say Let’s do more tests The blood doctor says she found a low platelet count
low white blood cells I say What I read online is that your spleen is hiding them
My husband’s sister says he needs an MRI The doctors say We’ve scheduled you
for an MRI in four days
My husband says their biggest concern is internal bleeding, They say the blood wouldn’t
stop itself I say Do you need my blood? I’m a universal donor He says I don’t think
that’s how it works I say But if it is, I’m ready I say I’m ready
The doctors say That’s the biggest spleen we’ve seen in 10 years; the liver is spotty;
there are cysts in your kidneys
The doctors don’t say to be worried or to be calm My husband doesn’t say
when it hurts, where on a scale from 1 to 10 I don’t say I’ve been diagnosing my fear,
my courage dissolving like sugar I don’t say I’ve been crying, just a little, in private
My horoscope says a planet is a body My husband says his body is a planet out of orbit
I say take mine, take my gravity, take whatever you need The doctors say take it easy
I say The doctors he says the doctors say and I say My husband
and I say My liver and my husband says My liver and he says We’ll find out
II
The doctors say We need to take more blood They say his white blood cells are low
My husband says Well, who knows with my family history
He says Now they’re scheduling an ultrasound The doctors say there are signs of scarring
and enlargement, diagnose it as moderate to severe My husband says Like my sister
He says transplant and surgery and maybe not but probably I say Well, if that’s the case
take part of my liver He says I don’t want you to go through that
The doctors say Let’s do more tests The blood doctor says she found a low platelet count
low white blood cells I say What I read online is that your spleen is hiding them
My husband’s sister says he needs an MRI The doctors say We’ve scheduled you
for an MRI in four days
My husband says their biggest concern is internal bleeding, They say the blood wouldn’t
stop itself I say Do you need my blood? I’m a universal donor He says I don’t think
that’s how it works I say But if it is, I’m ready I say I’m ready
The doctors say That’s the biggest spleen we’ve seen in 10 years; the liver is spotty;
there are cysts in your kidneys
The doctors don’t say to be worried or to be calm My husband doesn’t say
when it hurts, where on a scale from 1 to 10 I don’t say I’ve been diagnosing my fear,
my courage dissolving like sugar I don’t say I’ve been crying, just a little, in private
My horoscope says a planet is a body My husband says his body is a planet out of orbit
I say take mine, take my gravity, take whatever you need The doctors say take it easy
I say The doctors he says the doctors say and I say My husband
and I say My liver and my husband says My liver and he says We’ll find out
III
The doctors say We need to take more blood They say his white blood cells are low
My husband says Well, who knows with my family history
He says Now they’re scheduling an ultrasound The doctors say there are signs of scarring
and enlargement, diagnose it as moderate to severe My husband says Like my sister
He says transplant and surgery and maybe not but probably I say Well, if that’s the case
take part of my liver He says I don’t want you to go through that
The doctors say Let’s do more tests The blood doctor says she found a low platelet count
low white blood cells I say What I read online is that your spleen is hiding them
My husband’s sister says he needs an MRI The doctors say We’ve scheduled you
for an MRI in four days
My husband says their biggest concern is internal bleeding, They say the blood wouldn’t
stop itself I say Do you need my blood? I’m a universal donor He says I don’t think
that’s how it works I say But if it is, I’m ready I say I’m ready
The doctors say That’s the biggest spleen we’ve seen in 10 years; the liver is spotty;
there are cysts in your kidneys
The doctors don’t say to be worried or to be calm My husband doesn’t say
when it hurts, where on a scale from 1 to 10 I don’t say I’ve been diagnosing my fear,
my courage dissolving like sugar I don’t say I’ve been crying, just a little, in private
My horoscope says a planet is a body My husband says his body is a planet out of orbit
I say take mine, take my gravity, take whatever you need The doctors say take it easy
I say The doctors he says the doctors say and I say My husband
and I say My liver and my husband says My liver and he says We’ll find out