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15. On Meds

May I just say

"Wow"

I actually said that just now, that's why it's in quotes.
So, yeah, we broke seven hundred! And this is all YOUR doing, so give yourself a pat on the back!
(I would like to know who actually patted themselves on the back)
Alright, here it is.

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Sweet, sweet unconsciousness. When I dreamt, I felt no pain. This was quickly washed away upon opening my eyes. A splitting headache erupted at the back of my cranium, and eventually spread throughout my entire head. I shifted slightly, feeling sweat in my boot and brace on my leg, and I reached up and found that they had replaced my bandage, which had, by now, stopped bleeding.

Only dad was asleep on the chairs next to me, and I figured that mom and Avery went home to get some actual rest. Avery also had school tomorrow. Draven's mom wasn't there either, but he still was. He was sitting up next to me, simply studying my face. His hand reached up, and I knew that if we were in the same place he would run his fingers over all the cuts on my face. Instead his fingers just slid through me.

A doctor knocked then, and entered without hearing a response. Dad jolted awake, nodded at the doctor, and gave me a sad smile. I returned it.

"So, Cally," the doctor, who had to be in his late forties, rubbed his hands together and brought a chair up next to the bed, sitting down in it and facing me. "Your dad gave us the go-ahead to do a few tests on you while you were passed out. Nothing really new or unpredicted was found, but I do want to tell you this: your concussion went a little further than we thought. Your brain and nervous system are unstable, so you just need to take it easy for a few weeks, maybe up to a month, or until we say it's cool to go back to school," he smiled at me as if he was the funniest man on earth. I stared at him blankly, but his smile didn't falter. "So, your ribs there is nothing we can do for. Your leg will take a little longer than three months to be able to walk on it again, and for the first few weeks we're going to issue you a wheelchair." His voice lost all its joking quality now that we're talking about the condition my body is in. "You might feel a little lightheaded sometimes, and if you start to feel dizzy I want you to get your dad to press this nice red button next to the bed, okay?" I nodded. "Good. Now this arm," he touched my arm that wasn't broken (the one that was in this dimension), "has a pretty deep gash in it. We removed some gravel, flushed it out pretty good, and stitched ya up. If it starts to swell or you notice it turning a weird color, you let us know right away, yeah?" Again I nodded. "Wonderful. We're going to keep you here for, eh, three to four more days depending on how you're doing, okay? And then like I said, you need to stay home for a few more weeks after that. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes sir," I nodded, as much as I could with the neck brace. The doctor seemed to notice my discomfort and spoke up about it.

"The neck brace is only to make sure you didn't do anything to your spine while you were asleep. You can probably take it off in about a day. Sound good?"

"Mh hm."

"Excellent. See you in a bit to check blood pressures and all that jazz. The nurse will be in soon with your lunch."

And he left.

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Lunch wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. They served me chicken noodle soup and I'm pretty sure it was one of those boil-in-the-bag things, but I could care less. Mom came in at around four to relieve dad of his watching-me-lay-in-bed-and-do-nothing job, and then mom tried to talk to me about how exactly I ended up looking like this.