Gasping, Whumpee sat up in bed, clutching their chest as if their heart would jump out of it. This was the third time this week, and it was Tuesday. Waiting for their heart rate to settle and their breathing to slow, they hung their feet over the side of their bed and slowly pulled themself up. They poured themself a glass of water and got comfortable in the armchair.
The sun peeked through the blinds and Whumpee woke to the smell of eggs and toast. Jumping up, they realized they'd spent another night in the armchair. Their head was spinning.
Taking a long swig of water, Whumpee hoped their dizziness was attributed to the lack of sleep and water.
Making their way to the kitchen, Whumpee's headache got worse.
"Hey! I'm making dippy eggs and toast! Are you- uh are you ok?"
Whumpee, now feeling sweaty, headache getting worse, lifted their eyes from the floor to try and meet Caretaker's but as they did, they fell to the floor, head ping-ponging off the table, chair, and then floor.
Lights. They were in Whumpee's eyes. Why, why was it so bright?
"-umpee? Whumpee, can you hear me?"
Shading their eyes from the light and trying to sit up, the world spun. They laid back down.
Whumpee's hand was pulled away from their eyes by the paramedics.
"Let me look in your eyes."
Their head was killing them. The light did not help. They were woozy and just wanted to sleep.
"Concussion. I'm sure of it. Congratulations my friend, you've earned yourself a trip to the ER."
Whumpee allowed themself to be maneuvered onto the gurney and patiently sat in the emergency room with Caretaker.
Their eyes slipped closed. The lack of sleep and concussion were getting to them. Plus, no one likes fluorescent lights.
As they let sleep overtake them, they were shaken awake by a worried Caretaker.
"The paramedics said I can't let you sleep until we see what the doctor says."
Squinting angrily, Whumpee huffed and adjusted their blanket.
Waiting for what seemed like forever, a doctor looking rather rushed, entered the room.
Prodding Whumpee here and there, they checked Whumpee for neurological damage.
"When I rub your arm on this side, does it feel the same on this side?"
"Huh?" Whumpee was needing things to be said slowly and repeated.
"When I run your left arm here, does it feel the same when I rub your right arm in the same spot?"
"Um. I think so?"
The doctor asked so many questions and Whumpee was getting tired.
Turning to Caretaker, the doctor shared their concerns. "Definitely a concussion, I don't like how tired they are. I think I want to do something imaging."
Speaking up, Whumpee quietly told the doctor about the nightmares.
Nodding, the doctor asked "How much sleep have you had in the past week?"
Thinking hard, they weren't able to come up with an answer.
"I can give you something to relax you before you sleep, but you've got to sleep to get better."
Whumpe sighed. They wanted to sleep so bad.
"Can I sleep now?"
"I still want imaging but until we get you there, I'd rather you didn't. Just to be safe."
Resigning to their fate of wakefulness, Whumpee rubbed the bump on their head from where they'd hit it on the table.
