While You Closed Your Eyes

Chapter 6

I don't remember going back to my bed, I think I ended up passing out, and Sarah coming and bringing me, but this I learned from Sarah when I woke the next morning.

"You were cute," Sarah adds. "Laying your head on his lap, holding his hand."

"You watched?" I ask.

"Long enough to decide whether to take you back or leave you," she answers.

"Oh," I say, breathing heavily. "Something doesn't feel right."

"Probably just anxiety," Sarah answers. "Happens a lot."

"No," I answer more forcefully. "SOMETHING DOESN'T FEEL RIGHT."

I'm grasping for air, breathing heavily, my vision blurs, and I panic even more.

"Hold on, honey," Sarah says in a more finicky tone.

***

There is an oxygen mask on me.

My breathing is still heavy and quick.

"GAHH!!" I scream, grabbing my side, but my leg, you know, the one I don't have anymore, is literally seeming to kill me. Screams louder and larger than Niagara Falls come out of my mouth I didn't know possible. 

I sit there, in fetal position, for what seems like minutes, yelling in pain, before anyone comes in to help me.

"Hey, hey," a nurse runs in, crouches down beside me, looking me in the eye, coos. "It's alright sweetheart, you're alright, you're going to be alright."

More nurses run in. I see mom in the corner of my eye looking scared to death.

I just moan and groan, because in this sucky world, all we know to do is take it and complain.

***

Two days later, feeling slightly better, but looking like hell, I decide to make another trip to see Peter.

I groan at the sight of the wheel chair across the room, under the window, but once again, make an executive decision to not call a nurse in, I know they won't let me go (due to my poor condition) if I asked.

So, mentally preparing myself, I throw all the blankets off of me and roll my leg (and a half) over the side of the bed, and, wouldn't you've guessed it, I fall. With a grunt.

"Hoover Dam," I mutter. "The Hoover Dam is welcoming!!"

I use my arms to drag me. One painful tug at a time. Five minutes later, I make it to the wheelchair.

I tug at the wheelchair in attempt to yank myself up onto it, which fails.

"Ahhhg!" A very loud yell escapes my mouth, and my, "Crap!", wasn't any quieter.

A nurse pops her head in the door. "Is everything--"

I look up to meet her gaze, she is frowning at me.

"I was told this would happen," she comments, walking in my direction, "that you're a stubborn 'ol mule who won't ask for help."

I smile. "Kinda how I was raised."

"While you're in this hospital," she begins, "you will ask for help if you need it. Understand?"

I grunt. "Fine."

"Now, my name is Maddy," she says matter-of-factly, "would you like some assistance?"

I look at my current situation. I'm sitting on the floor, not even near my goal of actually getting into the wheelchair. I think my attempt on my own failed. Slowly, softly, and plainly, a, "Sure," comes from my mouth.