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“You don’t remember?” She eyes me curiously before her gaze goes to the doctor.
“Temporary confusion and disorientation is expected,” he says to her before his attention comes to me. “You came in two weeks ago to have a malignant brain tumor removed. We were able to get the tumor out but there was some unexpected swelling on your brain. We were forced to place you under a medically induced coma until we could get the swelling under control. But as I said, the worst is behind you now.” He offers me a reassuring smile. “I’ll let you rest. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to check in on you. In the meantime, Theresa here will help you with anything you need.” He gestures to the middle aged nurse to his right. She offers me a warm smile and a nod.
“Okay,” I say, still not entirely clear on what is going on.
It’s the strangest feeling. Not knowing where you are or why you’re there, yet sensing that you do at the same time. It’s like my brain knows exactly what’s going on but is too blanketed by fog to cipher through the information.
I watch both the doctor and nurse exit the room before Claire’s hand slips into mine, pulling my attention back to her.
“I knew you’d be okay,” she tells me, fighting back a sob. “I just knew it.”
“I’m so tired.” I sigh, my eyelids growing heavy again.
“Rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” It’s the last words I hear before sleep takes me under once more.
——
“Stop looking at it.” Claire crosses the room and takes the mirror from my hand, placing it face down on the bedside table in front of me. “I leave you alone for less than an hour and you managed to con someone else into giving you another mirror.”
“I can’t help it. It looks so weird.” I run my fingers along my prickly scalp, careful to avoid the incision that stretches from my right temple to about an inch past my ear.
Words can’t begin to describe how strange it was to wake up in the hospital four days ago with no real recollection as to how I got there. Thankfully, it was only a few hours before things started to come back to me. Not that it really helped. I still feel a bit off. It’s kind of like waking up from a dream and not knowing if you’re actually awake or not.
“It doesn’t look weird. When your hair is down you can’t even see it.”
“You have to say that because you’re my sister.” I crinkle my nose at her. “It looks horrible.”
“It does not. Stop obsessing.”
“That’s easy foryouto say. You’re not the one who has no hair.”
“You have hair.” She reaches out and grabs a chunk, letting the strands slide through her fingers. “You just don’t have quite as much on one side.” She grins.
“That’s one way to put it.” I give her a knowing look which causes her to chuckle.
“So, I brought you these.” She slides her backpack off her shoulder and drops it onto the chair next to the bed. Unzipping it, she digs inside before pulling out three books. “I wasn’t sure which ones to get. Has anyone ever told you that you have way too many books?”
“There is no such thing as having too many books,” I inform her, taking the old, tattered paperbacks that she extends to me.
Growing up I didn’t have enough money to buy new books, so I’d save every cent I could find and buy them used at the old book store in town. That place was my saving grace. I went in there so often that the owners started putting books that were in too rough of shape to sell in a box and giving them to me for free. As such, I grew quite the collection over the years.
Of course I lost a lot of them along the way. Some were destroyed by my mom or one of her druggie friends. Some were lost in the shuffle of moving countless times. And some I left behind because I didn’t have a big enough bag to bring them all with me when I moved to Chicago.
“If you say so.” Claire smiles, shaking her head at me. “I also brought you some clothes.” She gestures to the bag. “Just some underwear and pajamas so you don’t have to lay around in that gown anymore.” She gestures to my hospital attire. “Don’t worry,” she quickly continues before I can object. “I already checked with the nurse and she said you can wear them as long as they are loose fitting and don’t obstruct your I.V.” She points to the port in my arm.
“Last time I checked, I don’t own pajamas. Or did you forget that I sleep in old tees?”
“I didn’t forget.” She grins. “I brought you some of mine.”
“You’re too good to me.”
“No, I’m your sister. This is what sisters do.”
“I still think you’re too good to me.”
“And I think you need to start accepting that this is what people do for the people they love.” She reaches out and takes the books out of my hands before I have a chance to see what she’s brought, setting them on the table in front of me. “Come on. I’ll help you get changed before they come get you for chemo.”
“Yay,” I groan sarcastically. “Something to take away the rest of my hair.”
