It was a tense half hour while I waited.
But they were able to stabilize him.
After that, they upped his sedative again to prolong the coma. Said his brain needed more healing time.
It’s been two weeks.
Two weeks of him lying here while the world keeps moving without him.
I’ve been here most of the time, only switching with his parents so someone is always in the room, even if there is nothing to do but sit and stare at Hud.
Hadley came once. It’s the only time she’s attempted to see him.
She looked at him, and her face crumpled. Then she was gone, racing down the hallway, her sobs trailing behind her.
Now she just stays in the waiting room with Ella.
Ugh. Ella.
She’s been mostly quiet, introspective like the rest of us. She waits her turn to see Hud, then returns to the waiting room. I’m trying not to be an ass and shadow her whenever she is in there with him, but our last interaction is still fresh in my mind.
Her walking away holding Hudson’s hand after she told me that it’s best if I let him go is burned into my brain, and it’s not something I’ll be forgiving her for anytime soon—if at all.
I also don’t trust that she won’t swipe Hud’s IV and get a hit of whatever meds he’s on. The girl has been high most of the time she’s been here.
Matt and Archer also come by often, sitting with me in the waiting room while someone else is visiting Hud. They keep trying to get me to go out for lunch, or even just for some fresh air, but I always refuse. I don’t leave the hospital unless forced by my parents.
A knock on Hudson’s door pulls my eyes away from the bubbles in my hand. I set them down on the table next to the bed and turn just as Janine, the head nurse, walks in holding a vase of flowers.
“I thought you might still be here,” she says, a bright smile on her face.
All of the nurses have been great, making sure we have everything we need. They’ve taken such great care of Hudson, and us too, that I know we will never be able to thank them enough.
“Just giving Hud’s parents a break. They needed to go home and rest.”
She gives me a stern look, setting the flowers down next to the bubbles. “You need your rest, too. I don’t think I’ve seen such shadowed eyes since I watched the last Tim Burton movie.”
I catch my reflection in the small mirror across the room. My green eyes are dull and ringed in purple circles. My hair is greasy and limp on my forehead, my skin pale and drawn.
I look like shit.
It’s a physical reflection of how I feel on the inside.
Janine is standing there, hands on her hips, looking every inch the motherly type that she is. She raises an eyebrow, waiting for me to say something.
“I rest…” It’s a lie, but I don’t know what else she wants me to say.
“Liar.” She sighs and goes to the computer, pulling up Hudson’s chart. “But I’ll give you a pass because it’s always nice to see your handsome face.”
I snort a tired laugh, and she winks at me.
“Okay, looks like they began reducing his medicine again to start bringing him out of the coma.” She keeps reading over Hudson’s chart and inputting information.
“What?” I ask, completely unaware that the doctors made that call. Hudson’s parents gave the medical staff the green light to share Hudson’s medical info with me. I didn’t ask that of them, but I’m appreciative that they did.
“When did they start that?” Panic balloons in my chest. The last time they tried it didn’t go so well.
“Hmm… It’s time-stamped last night around midnight. They’ll gradually reduce it over the next few days, and hopefully by Friday, he’ll be awake.” She glances over at me, a gentle smile on her face. “I know that expression, and don’t worry. His latest brain scans look great.”
