Above our heads

Part 3

I opened my eyes and stared at the white ceiling. For some reason I couldn't get up. The body was heavy, as if weight weights were tied to it. Turning his head with difficulty, he saw his father sleeping on a chair. I tried to call out to him, but I couldn't. My throat is dry. Some devices beeped shrilly. I was connected to some kind of tubes. The door opened, a nurse came in and smiled at me:

- How are you feeling?

I opened my mouth, but I couldn't say anything, just wheezed. She brought me a glass. I took a sip with difficulty. It became a little easier.

- Am I in the hospital?

She nodded:

- I'll call a doctor now.

"Where Is She?"

I tried to get up, but she put me in my place:

- You can't get up. Complete peace!

He saw his father's worried face above him:

- Son, how are you?

"Where Is She?"

- At home with us. Sleeping. She didn't leave your side the whole time. How are you feeling?

- It's kind of hard. What happened?

My father suddenly started crying, tucked me in. His hands were shaking:

- Everything will be fine now. She managed to take you to the hospital.

I tried to sit down again, but the instruments buzzed angrily again. The door opened and an elderly doctor came in, motioned me to lie down. He looked sternly at his father:

- Visits are over.

My father got up heavily, wiped his face with his hand and kissed me on the cheek:

- I'll come back tomorrow.

I nodded. The door closed behind him. The doctor put his hand on my shoulder:

- I'll ask a couple of questions.

- OK.

He grunted, settling himself more comfortably in his chair:

- How long have you had heart problems, son?