Band X

Chapter 15: Spiritual Schizophrenia

I hope I only have to spend one night in the hospital so they can find out what'd wrong with me. The only thing worse than sitting in an emergency room bed for hours on end is the moment when they tell you that you're not going anywhere that night. Nope, they're making you stay for tests and your parents, much to your horror, are nodding in agreement with them.

I so hoped my mom was going to tell them that they didn't need to keep me, that I was going home with my family that night. I mean, she didn't even trust an ambulance to take me to the fucking hospital in the first place.

But, no, this is the one time she listens to someone else and doesn't think she has all the answers.

I really thought it was going to be a big joke. Surprise! You get to go home and sleep in your cozy bed! We were just kidding! The doctors and nurses would shout as my mom grabs me and takes me home. No such luck, though.

At least she didn't leave me all alone in my dark room that smells like equal parts crap and the boiled chicken they served for dinner tonight. My dad and Michael went home but my mom decided it would be a good idea for her to sit in this weird chair that stretches out so that someone can lie down on it. It's really narrow and looks super uncomfortable but my mom doesn't seem to mind.

Right now, she's huddled under a blanket with her eyes closed but I know she's not really sleeping because, first, she's not snoring. The older she gets the louder she snores. It kind of sounds like someone is sword fighting with two chainsaws so even though I'm happy she's here with me, it also means that I won't be getting any sleep tonight.

Who am I kidding? There's no way I'm going to sleep at all while I wait for my test results. I'm hoping this was a weird, one time only kind of thing and they can't find anything really wrong with me. Like my blood sugar just dropped or something and I'm really OK and I won't have to come back to this awful place ever again.

The nurse took lots of blood from me and my arm is sore but I think it's because I fell on it funny when I passed out earlier. Michael told me that I was bent at an incredibly awkward angle when he found me. I'm sure that was attractive. Now Thomas' last memory of our date is of me sprawled on the porch like a dead body waiting for someone to draw a chalk outline around it.

I close my eyes and hope to finally fall asleep. I hear my mother start to snore and I know that she's finally resting.

This is when I really start to worry. What if my blood work shows that there's really something wrong with me? What if they don't find anything wrong with me, or at least something new wrong because I have plenty of issues already, and I catch something horrible by just being in the hospital.

Wouldn't that be a bitch? My health hasn't declined at all and I die of some weird hospital related illness. Like sepsis. Or norovirus. Or leprosy. I consider looking up "ways to die in the hospital" but stop myself before WebMd turns me into an anxious mess. Or a more anxious mess because I already feel like I'm going to jump out of my skin any second now.

I do some deep breathing and try to quiet the racing thoughts in my mind. When I was younger I used to count backwards from 100 to get to sleep. I haven't done that in years but decide to give it a try because the deep breathing isn't working.

100...99...98...97...96...

I can't believe it but it's working. Or maybe I'm just beyond tired and I'm shutting down. My eyes feel heavy and burn and I finally give into sleep even though I swore I was going to be staring at the ceiling all night long.

Despite my exhaustion, I start to fight the sleep that is trying to drag me into blackness. I don't trust hospitals and really don't want to let down my guard long enough for another nurse to come in and stick me with more needles but the exhaustion wins and the next thing I know sunlight is streaming through the cracks in the blinds and my mother is in the corner of the room, quietly talking to a doctor.