Chapter Twenty-Seven

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Shelagh would dip in and out of consciousness, her heart rate would waver, and her breathing was never steady. It was uncertainty at the highest. There would be days when the doctors weren't certain she would live the rest of the day, and others where she would seem top notch.
Patrick sat next to his wife's bed, his head in his hands. Shelagh's eyes fluttered open.
''Patrick?'' She whispered, he looked up and sighed.
''I didn't want you to see me like this.'' He told her. She chuckled softly and shook her head.
''You cant be any worse than I.'' She said sitting up in her bed. Patrick smiled at his wife.
''I suppose, how are you feeling?'' He asked, She pursed her lips, lifting herself up into a sitting position on her elbows.
"Not fantastic, how have you been managing?" She asks, Patrick shakes his head and takes her hand in his.
"It doesn't matter how I am Shelagh.

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