Waiting For This Cough Syrup to Come Down (this version discontinued)

Chapter 15

"The only real faiure is the failure to try, and the measure of success is how we cope with disappointment." - Judy Dench, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.

It was becoming increasingly obvious to Saniya that there was something not right with Zayn in the head and this wasn't meant as an insult. Adding together the loss of consciousness and the loss of focus was more than half the proof needed for the diagnosis. Then, you add those two symptoms to the two major ones which followed throughout the day.

The third symptom arrived before Zayn's MRI scan. Nothing gradual happened as Saniya did her best to keep Zayn awake and focused by continuing to make his mind work. She was sitting by his bed holding flash cards of ordinary images on them questioning things like What colour is the car? Is this equation correct? What does this image convey?

The cards were normally used during brain surgery. During these procedures, the patient was put on anesthesia but kept awake. Surgeons would show the patient images or equations to make sure that no damage was being done to their brain. So, yes, Saniya was being over-the-top and paranoid by using them with Zayn, but she just because she knew about Zayn's health status, it didn't mean she was OK with it. 

Her mood was becoming increasingly touchy and irritated, though she successfully contained it and kept it to herself. It wasn't that anyone had really done anything to make her angry, it was simply because her friends asked questions and because she thought they were a little stupid, she answered flatly and became frustrated.

Throughout the time space, Zayn was constantly monitored and watched over; several times, he fell out of consciousness and he had inconsistent headaches. Zayn wasn't the type of person to complain because it drew attention to himself. Saniya could never come to terms with how ironic that was. She told him that he was in hospital, so it was out of his control now; she convinced him to tell anyone at anytime if something was bothering him, because it could lead to a new symptom.

"Saniya," he muttered weakly.

Zayn was starting to have trouble with his speech at some points - he could talk, just not very loudly at times and he stuttered at other points as well.

"What's up?" she asked, leaning closer so that she could hear him better.

"I c-can't feel m-my arm," he managed. "My g-good one. It-i-it's n-not the-th-there."

"What do you mean it's not...? Damn it," she hissed.

Saniya stood up and took a small, minuscule, pin from the cart, holding Zayn's left arm straight and steady. Slowly, she pricked him with it at different points along his arm.

"Nothing?"

His eyes widened as he shook his head.

"Wha-what i-is it?"

"Paralysis,"she muttered dropping his arm back on the bed where it lay dead. 

"Permanent?"

"No," she replied blankly, though she wasn't entirely sure of that. "Once your brain absorbs all the blood, it'll start working normally again."

Are you sure? she asked herself.

Shut up, she replied.

"That thing always looked bigger on screen," Zayn mumbled as I took him into the MRI room with a team of nurses and Dr. Anderson. His eyes widened and if it were even possible, he'd stand up and cautiously back away towards the door. Saniya was pretty sure he was in half mind to crawl away anyway.

"You won't be in there long," Saniya promised. 

"Niall wouldn't survive in there."

"At least you'll feel that it's more spacious when you're surrounded by fans."