Infected

Chapter 7

The next morning I'm greeted by a pair of overly cheerful nurses. One removes my IV while the other delicately takes the tape off of my neck bandage. They give me affirmations of how good I seem to be doing, not once mentioning how these scars were most definitely permanent and would follow me the rest of my life.

One of them, a bottle blonde with bright pink eyeshadow, compliments my necklace, saying how much it brought out my eyes. I have difficulty giving her a response, a fluke in my personality that I loathed having show through. I'm not one to respond well to compliments, usually finding some hidden meaning behind them when I should just accept what people say. I give her a short thank you just as Dr. Samson enters the room, a styrofoam cup in one hand and a laptop in the other.

"Good morning" he sings to me taking a seat next to my bed and logging into the system to view my charts. "We got your blood work back last night, your white cell levels have gone down significantly since you came in. Your enzymes are all normal as well, so you're in the clear for any infections that you could have caught from your cuts. Have you been experiencing any discomfort? Trouble sleeping, migraines, anything like that?"

He turns his gaze on me, peering over his half moon glasses like a skinny Santa Claus.

"No." I shake my head as I reply to his question.

I hadn't dream of anything new last night, just a mixture of moments from my day, like visiting Liv or my birthday present with Mel, but nothing involving Galen and Quin, which strike me as an odd occurrence.

"Good." He turns back to his computer and types what sounds like a long paragraph. I wonder what he is documenting when a knock comes at the door.

"Dr. Galen, your ears must be burning, because I was just about to mention you."

"Well, you know me, impeccable timing is one of my gifts." Galen saunters in with a box under his arm. He's wearing his typical work attire, a light grey button up with dark slacks. He makes his way over to me and gives an endearing wink as he sits down in a nearby chair. "So what's the prognosis Samson. Can our patient break out of here anytime soon?"

"She still has a few things to be cleared away for I'm comfortable with it." He glances at me. "You should be out by next week, Elle."

"What else do I have to do before then?" I question, my charts seemed exceptional so there couldn't be any other reason to why I should stay.

"For one, you need an evaluation from the resident psychologist. It's the hospital's choice not mine. And then you have to talk with the police. The last one isn't so much your ticket out of here, but I figure you'd want to get that out of the way before you go home. It's best to talked to them while everything is still fresh."

"Why do I need to talk to a psychologist?"

"I know you're strong, and you've been dead set on getting your life going again. However," He must've heard the questions I'd been asking the nurses constantly since I'd woken up. "You still need to be evaluated. You went through a great trauma, you'll be going home without your cousin and spending that much time alone can be difficult. You could get lost in your thoughts and memories. We just want to make sure you have the capability to overcome that and there's a healthy support system that can help you when you feel it's too much."

I narrow my eyes, suspicious of how rehearsed this explanation is, "You said the hospital wants this?"

"The hospital...as well as the police."

"Since when do they have a say in what treatment is given to a patient?" Galen chimes, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He looks like a med student, listening in on an enthralling lesson from his superior.