Back To Where I've Never Been

Part 2

Violet

I wake up to an incessant beeping sound. In the hazy state of exhaustion I find myself in most mornings, I wave my hand around my desk to turn off the alarm, I know it will only grow louder the longer I ignore it. But when I move my arm, I feel something pulling on it, like a string is tied to my forearm. Blinking open my eyes slowly, all I can focus on is the bright white blanket I am under and the thin plastic tubing attached to my arm. Then last night comes back in rapid fire bits and pieces of fragmented recollection. The pain. Calling Thyra. Going to the hospital and passing out. I vaguely remember waking up right as they were putting me under, yelling things at Thyra, I think they were concerned I didn't have a legal guardian with me.

Hesitantly I move to check out my other arm. My head feels heavy, as does the rest of me. I'm not an expert but I think I might be under some sort of medication, the world seems too foggy and hazy right now. It's like that time Thyra convince me to go to a party her cousin was throwing and we got offered some weed. I didn't like being out of control of my own movements then, and I don't like it now. Luckily my right arm is free of IV drips so I use it to sloppily rub my eyes, trying to wake them up enough to survey the room. They placed me in a private room, no idea why since it was a standard ER visit, and my insurance certainly doesn't cover a room this nice. There is a bouquet of beautiful purple violets on the table across from the bed. I scrunch up my nose and frown. Who are those from? The only person who would visit me here is Thyra or her parents and I don't think they would have brought violets, too tacky considering my name even though I secretly love them. Before I can muse on the mysterious gift further, the door is opened by a harried looking nurse. She is in her mid-forties with graying chestnut hair pulled back in a severe bun and the nape of her neck. Her punk scrubs look a bit worn, but meticulously cleaned and pressed. There are even the tell-tale creases of her obsessive ironing.

"Nurse Andrews!" I exclaim, surprised at how happy I am to see a familiar face

"What are you doing here? Oncology nurses don't have ER rounds." When mom was moved to the hospital, I spent nearly every day with her. While she napped I went and bugged the nurses at their station. I wasn't really supposed to but I was curious, and they were happy to answer my questions. I think they just felt bad for me, it was pretty obvious by our dismal number of visitors that Mom was really all I had. Thanks to my buzzing around I've become a bit proficient in the nurse's schedules.

"Got pulled in to cover for someone." Is her gruff reply. I almost believe her, but then she gives it away by tightening the corners of her perpetual frown and looking away towards the chart hanging on the end of my bed. Then I remember Nurse Andrews was a senior nurse, she wouldn't be the one pulled in to cover, especially not for an ER round. She must have switched with someone when she heard I was here. I bite back my grin. I knew she liked us. Well, I knew she had liked mom. Who wouldn't? Everyone loved my mother instantly, I just didn't know I had made the list as well. It felt good, to know there were more people out there in my corner, it had been looking a bit barren lately.

"So, what's wrong with me?" I ask, just now realizing not only had I been in the ER last night, but they kept me till morning. Which means it had been worse than I thought. I honestly was hoping for some weird stomach bug or something.

"Appendicitis." My eyebrows reach my hairline

"What?" Nurse Andrews gives me an exasperated look as she checks the IV drip and prepares some medicine.

"Appendicitis. You left it too long before coming here, we had to have emergency surgery, which is not ideal for someone with your blood type." I can feel myself pale. That was another reason mom couldn't get some of the treatments in time. We both had Oneg blood type. It's rare and can only receive blood from another Oneg donor. I gave a lot of blood for my mom but they couldn't take bone marrow since I was a minor. If I had my appendix removed last night, I'm really lucky they had Oneg on hand. This hospital is near my house but not really well-funded. And blood, especially O-negative, is expensive. The reproachful look Nurse Andrews is giving me make sense now, if I had come in earlier they would have had time to order or borrow some. But it's not like I knew I my appendix was rupturing. I told her so.