Editor’s note: This is inspired by a true story. Names and places have been changed to protect the innocent. This is a three part series.
Upon entering the hospital we walked to the help desk. I had to fill out the paperwork. Shawn stood in no condition. Once the preliminary research was completed we looked for a place to rest away from the crowd sitting crunched in single seats. Runny snot nosed toddlers danced around their mother and one lady cradled her broken arm. I wanted to get away from the sick people. I didn’t need to add to my cold.
The first bench I sat on smelled bad and I knew it would stick to me, like a smoky club but I got to the point where I didn’t care. Fatigue took over my body and mind. Both were weary. I also saw three grease spots too and wondered how they got there. I told myself if I didn’t look hard, they weren’t there.
“You’re sleepy,” Shawn said.
“No, I’m not. I’m not sleepy,” I lied.
“Yes, you are. Go to sleep,” he insisted.
“I’m not going to sleep, I’ll be OK,” my weak protest.
He securely wrapped his arm around me and like my head instantly made a pillow out of him. To block out the strong lighting he threw his cap over my gleaming forehead and dreary eyes and I went out in dreamland.
Thirty minutes passed by.
“Shawn Fill!! Shawn Fill!!” the nurse yelled.
We both jumped up in unison and ran to the door with the nurse.
It was just too good to be true. We were getting HELP! I figured someone saw the desperation on our faces and wanted to help immediately.
We rushed to the window with the receptionist. Oh thank Jesus I was going to get to go to my lumpy old twin bed back in my room!
FALSE ALARM
She just wanted to check him in AGAIN. We saw another nurse, who took Shawn’s blood pressure. Which skyrocketed because he’d been through trauma. My strength kept tears from welling up in my eyes and once again we walked out into the lobby, defeated.
By then we’d seen the birth of a new day. Around 1a.m. I started calling random friends, for no reason at all and yet to keep my mind going. Shawn and I talked about everything under the moon. The day faded, said bye-bye suckers and didn’t come back. I felt like I’d been waiting out a storm at the airport.
“Are you mad?” he asked.
“I’m not mad,” I replied.
“Do you want to go,” he continued.
“No. We’re here, we’ve waited and you need to get help,” I said as a final answer.
We did have excitement. It came from walking around the hospital and we found a comfortable couch. You would have sworn we’d just won lottery the way we acted over the sight of pillows! And just when we found a cool spot the nurse came calling again.
Shawn went to the back and after a doctor and two nurses looked at him they took him for x-rays. Then a few minutes later the last nurse took out a little tube of Dura-bond, a medical adhesive and as if she was a manicurist she painted his nail with the glue and sent him off. After five hours of Shawn mashing his pinkie finger in the door and splitting the nail, we were finally leaving the hospital. It was just badly broken nail and blood everywhere, but he didn’t want it to grow back grosteque. I understood and waited with him by his side, as a friend. It’s only a way I would have wanted someone else to treat me.
…the end... and the start of a great friendship.
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