Stand By Me.

Chapter 6: Moving Day.

        "Henri, get up honey, it's time to move you into your new room." Lacy, my nurse says while gently shaking me. I groan and roll over, ripping out my IV. I let out a small scream. "Oh honey, don't worry! We can just get that back in there." She says while quickly taking the needle and putting it back in my arm before I can even flinch.

        "Ugh, what time is it?" I ask in my sleep voice.

        "11:48" she says looking at the digital clock on the side table. I sigh. "How late were you up? I heard Milo and Sabrina and Freddy and Ernie, but they aren't new to the business of being being a professional sick person. You are, and you need to adjust to this new lifestyle. The best way to do that is by sleeping, and sleeping often. And you have a big day ahead! So tell me, how late were you up last night?" She asks. I remain silent and avoid eye contact. "I won't tell DiMargot if that's what you're worried about. Then she'll get upset with me for not making sure you were in bed at a decent time. I just need to know how much physical activity I can expect from you today." She says.

        "I'm not sure, I don't remember exactly. I was in here a bit after one o'clock, or was it closer to two? I can't remember, but I know I didn't fall asleep until after two o'clock." I say softly, expecting her to scold me as Dr. DiMargot would. She just nods.

        "Okay. In the future I'd rather you not stay out that late, it's not great for your health, but it's also your life, and I understand that. Let's just try to not make this a regular thing. You can still go out, enjoy poker night, but maybe not make such a mess. We're always cleaning up after their little games." She says while taking my vitals, jabbing me with needles, unwrapping my leg bandages, cleaning the cut, and bandaging them back up to prevent infection.

        "Thank you. Tell that to Dr. DiMargot, please. I don't think she gets that." I say, opening up to her. Lacy is extremely easy to talk to.

        "I would if I thought it would make a difference. Dr. DiMargot is a great doctor, one of the best in her field, but her talents lie almost exclusively in medical science. She's not very maternal or compassionate. I know good doctors should be, but we have several on-site therapists if you ever need one. Her job is to do the best she can to help you live a long, healthy life." She explains. I guess it makes sense. My morning check-up is done and I start to shift towards the edge of the bed, ready to get lifted into my wheelchair. Lacy just looks at me, crossing her arms.

        "What?" I ask self-consciously. She just looks at me. "What?" I ask again. She sighs and grabs some clothes off of the chair in the corner and tosses them to me on the bed, A pair of plaid short-shorts, obviously meant as pajamas, but the look comfy, a green tank top, a blue zip-up hoodie, some purple panties, and a bra. All brand new. I look up at her.

        "Where'd these come from?" I ask.

        "Um... your parents. They sent them, along with a lot of other clothes in. Most are in the dresser in your new room. Come on, let's get those on." She says helping me into the clothes. My whole center of balance is off because of my legs, and even simple tasks like putting on a shirt are difficult for me to do without help. Lacy says it'll get easier over time. After that she unplugs me from my IV (she says there's a new one in my new room. New, new, new.) and sets me in my chair, grabs my tote bag with all my temporary stuff in it and puts it in my lap. "Say good bye to your old room!" She says while turning off the light and wheeling me out. As we head down the hallway, a thought pops in my head.

        "Hey Lacy, I know this is a really stupid question, but what happened to my hair?" I ask.

        "Oh. Well, they were prepping you for emergency surgery and usually they wash patients' hair and wrap it up and all that, but they were on a time constraint to keep you alive so the just cut most of it off." She said. "But for the record, I think you look better with short hair. Suits your jawline." I giggle.