A New Cullen Sister

Chapter 41

Here is the promised second chapter whose uploading was delayed by the lack of wifi. I am still gleefully celebrating the Return of the Wifi. It's like the Return of the Jedi, only I'm not Princess Leia and this is not the Galactic Empire.

---

It was 8am when Esme and Carlisle entered the ICU. Alair and Dr Westsmythe were already there, having checked in on her as soon as they arrived at the hospital.

"She's going to wake up pretty soon," stated Dr Westsmythe, reading the notes that the night ICU staff had written down. Alair nodded in assent. She removed the now empty bag that had transfused much-needed blood into the failing body of the dying teenager whose bed they surrounded. Esme listened to the sound of her daughter's heart beating – it sounded stronger than before, not by much, but just enough to set Esme's mind at ease.

A ragged choking noise interrupted her reverie. Carlisle looked relieved, and Dr Westsmythe sighed in relief. Alair grinned widely. Esme realised that Amelia was able to breathe on her own now, and Carlisle hastened to remove the endotracheal tube that snaked down his daughter's mouth and into her lungs. Alair suctioned what she could and placed the nasal cannula on Amelia, and the room fell silent as they waited with bated breath for Amelia to awaken. Dr Westsmythe and Alair left, opting to give the parents some privacy with their daughter when she woke up.

Amelia began to stir. She frowned and her face contorted.

"She'll be in pain when she wakes up," murmured Carlisle.

"Can't you give her something?" asked Esme.

"She needs to wake up first, and I want to assess how bad it is before giving her the meds. You know how she hates morphine."

Esme sighed and nodded. It was true. Amelia would go for as long as she could handle before asking for pain killers. Years of constant pain had not only given her a high pain threshold, but also meant that the traditional, over the counter medications that were commonly prescribed had absolutely no effect on her. Paracetamol did not work, nor did codeine or ibuprofen.

Amelia needed the stronger meds, the opioids – the addictive medication, which made her drowsy without fail. She hated that, and the host of other side effects that they brought. She refused to take them as often as she actually needed to, she didn't want to die an inadvertent addict. Amelia let out a whimper as she gradually began to wake up, and it took a lot of restraint on Carlisle's part not to drug his daughter into a stupor.

Esme simply picked up Amelia's hand and squeezed it gently. She was rewarded with a slight squeeze in response, gradually becoming stronger as her daughter clawed her way back into consciousness.

"Amelia can you hear me?" asked Esme, standing and gently stroking her daughter's face. Amelia squeezed her hand in response and frowned. Her eyelids refused to cooperate and she began to panic when she couldn't open her eyes, her heart rate beginning to speed up.

"Amelia, you're ok. It's ok," hushed Carlisle, gently removing the rheum from the corners of her eyes and running his fingers along her eyelids. She calmed down a little, coughing loudly. She managed to move her free hand and cover her mouth, crying softly, and eventually her eyes opened. She blinked a few times, before focussing on Esme and giving her a tired smile. Carlisle adjusted her bed until it was in a more upright position. Amelia held her breath. It was evident that she was in a lot of pain.

"Welcome back," said Esme, handing Amelia a glass of water, which she gratefully took. Amelia frowned, realising that she was not at home.

"ICU?" she whispered, noticing the glass windows and lack of other people.