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“Fine,” I finally said. “But I at least want a decent meal. Nothing through a tube.”
The nurse laughed and agreed.
I ate my meal and watched trashy television after Nick took the kids home to get them ready for bed.
“Do you feel like you can walk?” the nurse asks me when she comes in and checks my numbers on the monitors.
“I’m not sure,” I say. “I guess it’s been a while.”
“Indeed it has been,” she says. “And it’s a quiet night so it wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot now if you’re up for it.”
“I’m up for it,” I say. “Get me out of this bed so I can get closer to going home.”
The nurse laughs. “Deal.”
She grabs the physical therapist and brings him into my room and they both help me swing myself over the side of the bed so my feet are touching the floor.
“My legs do feel a little funny,” I admit.
“That’s to be expected,” the physical therapist says. He’s built like Jason Momoa, but I don’t mention it outloud. “Let’s just see if we can get you up and at ‘em.”
I attempt my first steps, but my legs feel wobbly and Mr. Momoa has to catch me before I fall.
“Easy does it,” he says, holding me steady. “Just one step at a time. Don’t overdo it.”
I look up at him, thankful that the tiny nurse isn’t the one holding me upright and I try to take another step.
It takes a little bit, but I finally get the hang of it and Mr. Momoa is walking me up and down the halls of the hospital.
“I thought you said it was quiet here tonight,” I say to the nurse.
“Well, visiting hours just ended and these are the visitors that we can’t always get to leave on time.” She smiles. “It happens more than you’d expect.”
I smile back at her and look ahead of me down the hallway. That’s when I stop dead in my tracks.
“Megan,” I say, looking at the woman standing in front of me. She looks at me and squints.
“Do I know you?” she asks, adjusting her purse string on her shoulder.
I shake my head. “You don’t. I’m sorry.” I clear my throat. “Is your name Megan?”
She nods slowly and looks into the hospital room to our right. I take a few more steps and peak in. “Aiden,” I say quietly.
“Yes,” Megan says. “My son.”
I want to start crying, but instead, I swallow back the emotion. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I guess I just heard the nurses talking a lot while I’ve been here.”
Her smile is weary, but she nods and says a quick ‘thank you’ to the nurse before she walks away. She gives me another glance over her shoulder and heads for the exit.
“I hope I didn’t scare the crap out of her,” I admit quietly.
“Nah,” Mr. Momoa says. “She’ll be alright. She’s here a lot.”
“Leukemia,” I say.
The nurse looks at me. “Yes,” she says slowly. “How did you know that?”
I shake my head and say, “Let’s just keep walking.”
