29
I wake disoriented. It takes my sleep deprived brain a few moments to recognize what woke me so abruptly. The room is dimly lit by the low lights in the hall. I can make out a figure standing by the door. I run a hand over my face trying to wake up enough to speak.
I drop my feet to the floor before I croak, "Sorry, you can turn on the light. One of the nurses must have shut it off." I clear my throat. I need water. I must have slept longer then I had assumed.
No reply comes from whoever entered, and the light stays off. As my eyes adjust, I'm able to make out her shape, it's definitely a her.
"I think the light switch is on the wall, by the door, right behind you." My voice is still deep from sleep, but at least it's more discernible.
She reaches back without turning around. My eyes snap shut from the glare of the bright lights. I use my hand to shield my eyes as they adjust. The first thing they make out is colorful clogs.
Removing my hand, I get my first look at the young woman that entered. She’s dressed in scrubs.
I stand abruptly. My ears buzz as a wave of vertigo hits me.
“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
Her eyes go round, her hand flies up to her forehead, and her cheeks turn pink.
“Oh goodness, yes.” She flusters, “I'm so sorry. It's not everyday you meet a movie star around here.” She puts a hand out to gesture to the double doors, “Samantha, she's starting to wake up. She's called for you a few times." That's all it takes to have me flying down the hall.
It takes me a second to orientate myself and remember which way to go. I rush past a nurse’s station, and a woman stands up and calls out to me. I ignore her and push through the door of Sam’s glass walled room.
She looks almost the same as yesterday. Her skin isn't quite as gray, but the bruises still cover most of her face. The dried blood has been cleaned off, but black clumps remain in her beautiful hair. I'll wash each strand, just so she doesn't have to see it this way.
Her eyes are closed, and a thin blue blanket tucked over her chest with both arms left out.
I grab a chair and place it close to her bed. My hands ache to touch her, to be reassured that she is here, now. My fear of hurting her keeps them fisted on the bed near her hip.
I open my mouth to speak, but the words die on my lips. I don't know where to begin.
I drop my face to the side of her bed.
I let it sink in that she’s here, and eventually she’s going to be okay.
The antiseptic smell from her sheets fills my nose as I draw in heavy pulls of air. The smell overwhelms me when all I want to do is sag in relief.
I won’t sit here feeling sorry for myself.
I marshal my emotions and gently say, "Hey sweets, I sure did miss your beautiful face. I'm so happy we found you. I need you to come back to me. I promise it's safe here now. No one will hurt you again. Just wake up for me. I know you wanna talk to me. I need to see those gorgeous baby blues."
She doesn't respond. I keep taking anyway, encouraging her to wake up.
The nurses leave me alone with her. I become brave enough to touch the unmarred skin on her cheek. Her eyes flutter, and her lips move, but she doesn't utter a word.
I wait for her to wake up.
It’s late afternoon when a surgeon comes in, introducing himself to me.
“I’m Dr. Parsons,” his cool hand envelopes mine in a firm grasp. “I think it’s time we took care of that arm.” His eyes zero in on Sam, “The threat of infection is riskier than her being put under anesthetic at this point. We can get her fixed up a bit before she wakes up.”
“Are you sure? Is she ready, to be put to sleep, I mean? She hasn’t really woken up yet.”
Dr. Parson nods his head, “Her body is doing exactly what it needs to, what we want it to do. When she’s ready, she’ll wake up. Hopefully, when she does, she won’t need any further surgeries for a while.”
My heart is in my throat as I watch the nurses slowly maneuver her bed out of the room soon after.
Brian shows up after I’m returned to the waiting room, with a big brown bag of food.
