blind. 2 | styles (hariana)

III. Thing Is, I Still Love You

~ Ariana ~

You know that feeling you get when you're literally within reach of something, but still too far to really feel it? It's almost like you feel out of your element, uncomfortable. Now multiply that feeling by pi.

I barely passed math in university, but if I had to describe how I felt now in this hospital bed, my answer would be left in decimals. Even if I know I should be extremely ecstatic about the hours to come, I was left in between, feeling both nauseous and excited.

I managed to get by the week of evaluation with Michael by my side. It was simple; he asked the same boring questions and I gave him the same boring answers.  

In truth, I just wanted to get the procedure over with. I'm being told numbers-- percentages, of the probability of my eyesight returning or not at all. I'm grateful that there is an eighty one percent likeliness of my eyesight returning, but there's that last nineteen percent that remains.

Compared to eighty one, nineteen isn't much but it's still enough to make me terrified that everything I've been through-- not just treatments but the emotional stress of it all, was for nothing.

The surgery is tomorrow, and I'm already feeling the weight of everyone's expectations on my shoulders. My brother and nonna flew in three days ago and joined my mother in the waiting abyss. For some reason, I felt like someone was missing.

Since the surgery wouldn't be affecting my body, I was allowed to eat. The other Doctor's however, insisted I sleep a lot-- not that it was a problem, sleep seemed to be the one thing I was very good at even without eyesight.

In the hustle of my last night, Michael was mumbling to himself as he checked my blood pressure while another doctor tended to my chest with a stethoscope. The cold bastard sent chills down my spine as it moved along my left breast.

"Her blood pressure is stable." Michael spoke up. "How is her heart rate?"

"Regular." The other Doctor replied. "No irregularity or spasms."

"Wonderful." Michael remarked at the good news. "That'll be all Margaret, thank you."

"So, how do you feel?" Michael resumed his final evaluation as I shrugged. "Fine. Excited, nervous-- the works."

"No empty voids?"

I shrugged, "Temporarily replaced by rabid butterflies."

He chuckled, "Fair answer. You'll be put into an induced coma for the surgery tomorrow, so I suggest drinking a lot of fluids before you go to sleep tonight. The surgery will begin early in the morning, so if you want to see your family you may do so now."

I nodded, "Yeah that'd be cool." I said as I laid back further into my pillow. Unlike the previous days, Michael seemed rather distant. Apart of always intruding in my personal life like any other shrink, he usually held an hour's conversation with me.

Probably to keep my mind off things, but I actually enjoyed his company. Even when I've fallen asleep, I feel his touch on my hand then on my cheek where he'd kiss me goodnight.

The first few nights I found it weird and intrusive, then I found myself waiting for him-- going so far as to fake falling asleep to feel him sooner. I wasn't sure if I was crushing on Michael, but I enjoyed the care he provided. I was sure we were strictly platonic, and besides I didn't feel ready to throw myself into another relationship just yet.

"Ariana?" Frankie timidly spoke as my head turned to the sound. I grinned, "Hey Frankie."

"Mom and nonna are here too." He said, gradually getting louder as I nodded.