Clean Up and Waiting

Susan, still being supportive of Gina's bizarre affliction, is getting exasperated. The nurse's attitude was not helping. She is practically having to drag Gina, her short uneasy steps reducing both of them to a crawling pace. Meaning the miasma of funk following Gina was hanging and clinging to the two of them.

Finally in the bathroom, Susan hangs bags on the door hook, but the door stays open as there isn't space for two teenage girls and a toilet in the divided stalls. Susan holds up Gina's skirt and has her sit on the toilet.

"What are you going to do? I don't have clean clothes..." Gina whines, not happy the stall door is open but knows she couldn't close them without Susan's help.

"We're going to dump what we can in the toilet, and I'm going to try to clean them in the sink. Just fill out this form while I do the hard work and have you sitting here until you get called." Susan explains, kneeling to get Gina's shoes off.

Gina looks at the clip board. Pen in hand. The first line to fill was...stla neam? What the hell is a stla neam and what was hers? Clearly the nurse gave them some kind of bunk form. Nothing on the page made sense.

Susan had her hands full. Getting the shoes and socks off, holding Gina up as she carefully pulled her panties down, trying to get the waste to fall down into the toilet and not let it smear on Gina. She leaves her with the form, bottomless on the toilet to go to the sink and attempt to wash the dirty underwear. The stall door stayed open, the weight of the bags helping. If Gina couldn't walk, who knows if she'll forget how to sit and crack her head on the plumbing.

She say Gina getting frustrated with the form, flipping through the pages, back and forth, and notibly not writing.

She puts the handwashed panties on a door hook to dry. Susan takes the clipboard. It was blank.

"You couldn't write your name?" Susan asked, incredulous.

Even Susan was getting mad with her. Its not like Gina had been having a great day. She shoves the pen in Susan's face. "It's gibberish, the fucking cunt at the front gave us garbage!" She complained.

Susan turned the clipboard around, pointing at the first line. "Last Name, right here. No gibberish."

"It says stal mean! Whatever the fuck that is!"

Susan's eyes go wide. Coordination, balance, problem solving, now either dyslexia or plain illiteracy. The situation was much more serious. She takes the pen and starts filling it out. "It's not gibberish, we're going to figure this out. Just, sit there. I'll take care of this." She explains and continues as best she can to answer everything. She leaves to turn the form in.

Gina sits there, stall wide open, barefoot with her socks and shoes just next to her, stained panties hanging right there, mocking her. There was no other explanation for everything that's been happening. She now fully believed she has been cursed for being a spoiled brat.