ᴄʜᴀᴍᴘᴀɢɴᴇ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍs.

ɪx

ᴀᴜᴅʀɪᴀɴᴀ
ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍʙᴇʀ 2016

I UTTERED A desperate prayer the entire way to the hospital, the car speeding through the streets as I closed my eyes, seeking solace in familiar words. "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil," I repeated like a mantra, the urgency in my voice echoing the urgency in my heart.

Beside me, Nick sat with his eyes shielded behind a pair of sunglasses, a bruised and battered shadow of the man I knew. He urged me to keep a low profile, to avoid drawing attention to his disheveled appearance. His cautious demeanor added to my unease, but I couldn't dwell on it now, not while my mind was consumed with worry.

As we pulled up to the emergency room doors, I took a deep breath and opened my eyes to face the looming building. Nick's instructions echoed in my mind as we hurried inside, each step feeling heavier than the last.

The hospital buzzed with a restless energy, the air thick with a blend of antiseptic and quiet desperation. I tried to heed Nick's advice, keeping my head down and my gaze fixed straight ahead, but the suffocating anxiety threatened to overwhelm me. I clung to the prayer, seeking solace in its familiarity.

The thought of needing stitches for the first time sent shivers of fear through me, the unknown nature of the procedure fueling my terror. Even as a child, my injuries had been minor, easily mended with a simple bandage. The prospect of someone sewing a gash on my head evoked a deep sense of dread within me.

With a sinking feeling of dread, I learned from the medical staff that stitches were not an option. Instead, I would have to endure the cold, metallic sting of staples. The weight of this reality pressed down on me, constricting my chest with a knot of fear. I felt unprepared, vulnerable, and entirely at the mercy of the impending medical treatment.

Guided by the nurse, I traversed the sterile hospital corridors, the cacophony of beeping monitors and distant conversations forming a dissonant symphony that heightened my inner turmoil. Each step seemed to propel me further into an uncertain abyss, and I struggled to maintain control over my trembling hands.

The clinical environment, with its gleaming white surfaces and the pungent scent of disinfectant, exacerbated my unease. Every clink of metal instruments, every muted conversation among the medical staff, seemed to reverberate through me with an almost painful intensity. The impulse to flee, to avoid the looming ordeal, tugged at every fiber of my being, but I knew that there was no option but to confront it head-on.

Throughout this distressing journey, Nick remained a constant presence, steadfastly holding my hand with a reassuring grip. His unwavering support provided a lifeline amidst the clinical detachment that enveloped me, offering solace in the midst of each grimace of pain and the persistent throb in my head.

The room was filled with the sickening sound of dried blood in my hair, making my skin crawl as the medical staff diligently worked to clean and disinfect the area before securing five painful staples in my scalp. The excruciating pain seemed unrelenting, the promise of relief remaining nothing more than a distant hope, as I longed for a painkiller stronger than just Tylenol. The doctor's relentless barrage of questions probed my memory, testing my ability to respond accurately to each inquiry.

I winced as they examined my eyes, the sensitivity to light intensifying the already unbearable discomfort. With each probing question and careful examination, a jarring realization hit me, knocking me off balance under the doctor's scrutinizing gaze. The weight of my pregnancy deprived me of the straightforward confirmation of a possible concussion through a CT scan or an MRI, leaving us in a disconcerting limbo of uncertainty. The gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air as the medical team implored Nick to remain vigilant over me for the next 24-48 hours, their thorough instructions and lingering gazes making the seriousness of the situation palpable.