Portraits

twenty-eight

Right now, I'm at the hospital.

When I got here, the sterilized smell that usually plagues a hospital in teen fiction novels wasn't that overpowering. It was just like breathing; you knew it was there but you forget about it after a while.

I'll admit something; I was scared. Like, out of my mind afraid. Just like in the teen fiction novels, I haven't had a happy past with hospitals. Whenever someone was dying, I'd pay them a teary visit to the hospital and that would be the last time I see them. Then I also came when I broke my ankle, and I swear that time the sterile smell was stronger than my hate for mustard. (I really, really hate mustard).

And just like those novels, I had to wait briefly in a waiting room as my loved one settled. I couldn't have been sitting there for more than fifteen minutes, but it felt like hours. I stared down his hallway, tapped my fingers and foot and tuned everything out. The whole time I was holding my breath; just waiting for something malicious to happen. I wanted to see him; I needed to be in that room. If I wasn't in that room, I wasn't anywhere.

Finally, a nurse told me I could come in. I sat on the couch and I waited with him. The nurse asked him loads of questions I can't remember. I'm pretty sure one was the pain tolerance thing and I couldn't help but thinking of Hazel Grace saving her ten. I know it was an impromptu time, but the fangirl inside of me couldn't help herself.

We waited some more. I was updating relatives and my dad was taking phone calls. At this point our family friends had gone. They were so kind to wait with us and make sure we were okay. After the doctor had visited, I seriously started thinking. Who was the last patient in this room? Were they male or female? Was their condition light or fearful? Did they die here?

So many questions, yet no answers.

Sometimes I get lucky. Most times, if not all, I come here for death. I see death, I smell it, I dread it; my tears anticipate it. The knowing ache that this will be the last time I see them smile. But today, I got lucky. I got to witness things going right. I saw things get done; I saw life fighting to live and there is no feeling to describe that.

Thank God, I got to keep my loved one today.