Back to Health: Slow Recovery

Lesson 5: Wake Me Up

~August 29th, 2012.

~Three hours later.

Michael endured his heart attack and powered through the pain like the marvel he was, letting him live another day. Lynnette was beside him every step but wanted Dr. Bern to make the final determination if Michael would need to be rushed via ambulance. Another hospital visit was going to destroy him but she'd rather he receive the help if it was needed. His family was beside themselves and he begged everyone who knew, not to tell his children.

Lynnette sat in the hallway after the family had left the ranch. She was waiting for Dr. Bern's instructions before he left for the evening and her phone chimed in her balled fist as she sat across the floor. She saw Dennis' number in her unread messages and she saw the beginning of the text,

"Think you can call me later?"

She slammed her phone down against the floor, and she lied her head into her knees, curling into a ball. She sighed heavily, letting the last few tears fall from her eyes until the door opened to Michael's bedroom. She stood up in a pop, and Dr. Bernaculli closed the door softly behind him.

She looked up as he towered over her with his mature, lumbering height and said quietly to inform her firstly,

"He's stable. But I want him to rest for the remainder of the evening. No excitement, and very little engagement. Give him something to soothe him if he should start stirring."

Lynnette nodded and asked about his nightly medication. He advised her to skip any medicine that would need to be taken with food and to start fresh in the morning. She thanked him for coming so quickly and asked still recovering from her tears if Michael was asleep.

"Oh, no. He's lucid. A little drowsy but he's responsive. Call me in the morning with his vitals and we'll go from there. I'll stop by in the evening with my plans for new medication." The doctor answered.

She thanked him again as he left down the stairs and she heard the doormen usher him out of the foyer. Lynnette dragged her feet to move inside Michael's bedroom and she stood in the doorway before moving any further. He was lying back with his head against the pillows in bed, his eyes closed exhaustedly. He was stripped down to his undershirt and pajama pants, which was almost being overdressed for Michael.

She closed the door behind her, straying from the usual as normally she would leave it open just a touch. She saw the television quieted in the corner with an old re-run of A Different World on the channel. She came to his bedside as he lied quietly and she sat on the small ottoman seat that she would use to administer his meds. She didn't know if he was aware she was present but she kinda hoped he wasn't. She found herself deplorable for not being by his side. If she'd just sat down next to him during the magic show.

She let her thoughts speak instead of her words as she got comfortable. She lied her head down on the mattress next to his arm and she rested her temple onto her folded hands. She turned, watching the sitcom on television to keep from falling apart but to no avail. She felt his hand slowly begin to lovingly pet her loose, brown hair. She felt the tears return to her eyes and her lips quivered. She couldn't face him with all her might and softly she whimpered much to her reluctance.

She felt his hand curve down to meet her face, wiping her tears and he tapped her cheek with his thumb. She turned, her hair messily falling to her shoulders as the anger wetted her face and she saw him motioning her into the bed beside him. She was hesitant at first but only long enough to kick off her shoes. Being beside him was all she wanted. She sat close but at a conservative distance that didn't stand a chance as Michael quickly drug her closer.

He nestled her against him, lying her head onto his collar, holding her into his arms warmly. He petted her head as she nuzzled into him further and he asked lowly, even under the whispers of the TV,