Say Something [Sequel to Dance On Austin Mahone Fan Fiction]

Chapter Twenty Six

*READ CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR BEFORE READING THIS CHAPTER TO REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED WITH CALLI* :)

"There's a good chance she will die."

The words replay in my mind for hours, as the sedative finally wears off. I could die, if I were to fall, at all, again. My eyes finally open, and the light from the early morning sunrise blinds me. I glance up at the monitor and see Mitchell writing down my vitals on his clipboard. He glance down and smiles at me.

"Oh good, you're awake." He says. "How're you feeling?"

"Tired." I answer honestly. "And miserable."

He chuckles. "That's to be expected. You've been under for almost three days. You didn't react well during the MRI."

"I heard what happened." I tell him. "The sedative wore off last night and I heard everything."

"And by everything, you mean?" He doesn't finish his sentence.

"That I'm basically going to die the next time that I hit my head."

Mitchell looks down. "I guess that means everything. It's not completely true, but you do need to take it easy."

"What else did the tests say?" I ask him.

"Don't you want to wait for Austin to get here tonight and hear the rest of the results?"

I shake my head. I know that would be considered selfish to other people, but I can't sit around waiting, knowing that there could be something serious going on inside my brain.

He nods his head. "Well, for starters, here's your occipital lobe."

He points to a diagram of the brain. "This controls your vision. There is some slight swelling there."

"What does this mean?" I ask.

"With this area, the swelling can affect your sight. If the swelling isn't reduced quick enough you can start to have tunnel vision. That's basically, you can't see your blind spots. You could also start to hallucinate or identify basic colors."

I nod my head and just wait for him to continue.

He points to another section of the brain. "This is your cerebellum. It controls all of your muscular coordination. If there is any prolonged damage here, you can lose all coordination. We call this Acute Cerebellar Ataxia."

"What happens if I lose all coordination?"

"You could suffer from more frequent headaches, dizziness, stumbling, slurred speech, inability to eat or drink, you won't be able to control the use of your arms and legs, and your vocal ability will be severely damaged."

"So I won't be able to talk?"

He shakes his head. "Not just that. Your tone, pitch and volume will change. You could think you're screaming but you're whispering, and vice versa."

"What can you do to fix this?" I can feel myself on the verge of tears. "I'd be stuck in bed, not even being able to hold my son, or go to Austin's shows, if you can't."

"Right now, the swelling has remained low, so there isn't too much of concern. However, we are going to have to operate later this evening to make sure that the swelling cannot be increased."

"Isn't brain surgery incredibly risky?" I ask, my voice shaking. "Like, I could die?"

"Brain surgery is scary, but we have one of the best neurosurgeons in the country. He'll take great care of you."