irrevocable

{Seventeen}

This Is Me Trying // Taylor Swift

Holly

My head jerks up from the edge of Mom's hospital bed when a nurse walks in. We spent almost six hours sitting on plastic chairs in the waiting room before she was finally evaluated by a doctor. They admitted her because she'd been severely dizzy, to the point she was unable to walk on her own.

"Good morning. Time for vitals," the nurse says. Shift change must have happened because I don't recognize her.

The woman, probably in her early thirties with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, checks all of mom's vitals and monitors. I rub the sleep from my eyes and stretch. I look at the time, seeing that I must have been out of it for a couple of hours. It's already time for breakfast. We've been here all night. The last nurse on shift took mercy on me and let me stay with Mom even though it wasn't visiting hours.

"Is she doing better?" My voice cracks, from emotion or exhaustion I'm not sure. I glance at Mom, still sleeping thankfully, but looking very weak even so.

"Her vitals are stable. The doctor should be in with more information soon."

I nod. It's all I can do. I'm lost. I'm alone. There's no one I can rely on to help me through this. I might work in the healthcare field, but I don't have much medical training. I don't know how to navigate the steps involved.

I don't even know how I'm going to pay for all of this.

Instead of continuing this train of thought, I rise and use the restroom. The woman in the other bed is quiet, has been all night. But I hear moaning down the hall as I stand next to the door. It's not much different from being at work, where I should be right now. I called in last night when I realized this would be a long haul. Just as I sit back down next to Mom, another person enters. An older woman with an iPad and a sympathetic face.

"Good morning. I'm Wilma. I'll be helping you with documents for billing, today."

Great.

"Okay," I say. "Just to let you know, she doesn't have insurance. I have my own, but I wasn't allowed to add her."

"We'll get started and see where it leads us." Another sympathetic tilt of her head. I feel like I'm a little, lost kid with the way she's looking at me.

"If needed we can call in a social worker to help her apply for state aid. How old is your mother?"

"Forty-seven."

"She wouldn't qualify based on her age but, depending on her diagnosis we might be able to get some coverage."

I swallow the nerves, not wanting to go down the 'what if' road my brain is trying to take me. I need Jackson. I need help.

Wilma helps me with the documentation and forms before assuring me she'll have a social worker come talk to me later this afternoon. She must not think we're going home anytime soon.

Exhaustion pulls at me. I attempt to get comfortable in the chair next to her bed and close my eyes for a bit but that's when Mom wakes up.

"When did you come back?" Her voice shakes as she asks, eyes half closed.

"I never left."

"You should go home and rest."

"Later. After we speak to the doctor."

"I'll be fine. They'll probably kick my old bones outta here before lunch."

I say nothing. I'm worried we're in for the long haul but, I don't want to give her anything more to stress over. She's not real talkative and still sleepy so I end up stepping into the hallway to try calling Jackson. I need to hear his voice. But the call goes to voicemail. Maybe he's driving already. I put it out of mind and return to my spot near Mom, staying quiet until the doctor finally shows up.