Friday, November 23rd, 2018- La Colle, Monaco
Princess Grace Hospital Centre (Centre Hospitalier Princesse-Grace, CHPG)
"I'm- I'm here to- see-" you'd failed to realize how shallow your breaths had become as your nerves ramped up until now as you stood before the nurse's desk and a less than impressed nurse, your chest heaving as you fight to get enough air into your lungs to start speaking in complete sentences again, gesturing absently with one hand for the woman to give you just one more second before she said anything.
For the span of a second or two, you take a brief respite from the words that you'd been trying and failing to get out just now, desperate to calm your mind and your body, both of which seem to be in the very midst of all out, open rebellion against every last attempt you've made to get them to fall back into line.
And lacking any better idea, you shaking your head doggedly back and forth once, twice, three times, knowing it'll likely fail but still hoping against hope that the gesture will act like a hard reset and clear your mind of all the thoughts of what had happened earlier on the plane– because every last one of them is a nonstarter when Kaia and Max, your family, need you something fierce right now and there's no time to waste on anything or anyone else.
"Sorry- I'm sorry, so sorry about that," you say, picking back up where you'd left off but taking it slowly, not wanting to get ahead of yourself before your breathing has had the chance to return to normal, or as close to it as was possible under the current conditions, "I know it's not visiting hours right now but-"
This time, it wasn't by choice that you came up short mid-sentence, the decision being made for by the nurse still standing in front of you, now with an impatient and wholly unfazed expression painted across her pretty face, her hands planted squarely on both hips, she cocks her head to one side, pinning you in place with disinterested eyes and practically daring you to so much as consider speaking out of turn.
"Are you a parent or a guardian of the patient?" She inquires in a brusque, clipped tone of voice that conveys with brutal efficiency that this line of questioning is posed in anticipation of your failure to have an answer of assent, "if you aren't, there's nothing I can do until later."
"I'm both," it's shameless just how easily the bald faced, double barrel of a lie comes out of your mouth as you look the nurse dead in the eyes, letting the falsehoods fall from your lips without a shred of remorse, "so I'm not going anywhere without seeing her."
Saying a prayer to anyone who might listen that what you remember is an accurate recollection of the surface level explanation Max had randomly launched into following qualifying in Singapore over two months ago and not just something your deceitful brain had invented on the spot just now, you boldly say, "her father and I will be listed as her next of kin."
Let her gather from that what she will, you thought uncharitably as you waited for her to make a decision to accept the line, you'd just fed her or to challenge the ambiguous, leading clarification she'd been given.
Whatever assumptions she might or might not make about you and your family from what you had heavily implied was anybody's guess.
It really could go either way at this point, since the woman seemed pretty fucking with it but at the same time, she'd eaten your words right up, without so much as questioning the open-ended information you'd offered her voluntarily.
"Name?" the nurse, who's name tag you've only just caught a glimpse of– Paola– asks you wryly, not so much as a hint of suspicion to be found in her expression, the single syllable question posed in a tone of voice that was flat and apathetic.
