The door of my room is barged in with my Dad storming towards the boys with about three doctors, a few nurses, and some guy who probably shouldn’t be here.
They instantly start scuffling around, trying to break it up. Dad clocks a shoulder to the face, a doctor gets shoved into a wall, and some old bat gets pushed and tumbles onto my bed before they can manage to get it under control.
“Right, you,” Dad says, grabbing Rivers by the scruff of his shirt. I almost want to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it. Dad is a big guy, but Rivers still towers over him. “Get the fuck out of here. You can go and wait for Tully with the rest of her family.” Dad practically barges him out of the room and I’m surprised as hell when he doesn’t put up a fight.
“As for you,” Dad says to Noah. “Keep your shit under control. I know you’re stressed about your sister, but this room right here is about the health of my daughter. If you can’t, you can go and fuck off too.”
Noah nods his head and takes a deep breath before dropping down on the chair he had been in earlier, probably with a million thoughts flying through his head, some old, but definitely some new ones too.
“Now, Squish,” Dad says turning to me. “Why the fuck are you out of bed? Get your ass in there so the doctor can look you over.”
I quickly nod and scramble back into bed. Dad hasn’t had to pull out his ‘Dad’ voice in years and honestly, it’s kind of terrifying.
He drops down into the chair beside Noah as he mumbles to himself. “It’s like dealing with a bunch of fucking children.”
With that, the doctor turns to me as a nurse tends to the drip in my wrist which apparently is half out and looking a little like a murder scene with the way I’ve been flailing about. Who would have known?
———-
Observations. Concussion. Unknown dangers. Ok, I fucking get it. I have to stay here longer than I thought, but so far, we’re creeping up to the thirty hour mark and it’s killing me. Don’t get me wrong, I know the medical professionals know what they’re talking about and all that shit, but I just want to be home in bed, watching Netflix while Frog goes ‘round and ‘round in her bowl.
Is that too much to ask?
Tully was in surgery for about four hours and was left in recovery for a few more after that. Noah didn’t want her all the way over there and put up a fuss, insisting she would heal better if she had her friends with her, so here we are, our beds side by side in a squishy room.
We just have to be thankful that we’re not in some ward with a hundred other people. Though, it could also have something to do with the fact that it’s an overcrowded hospital with not enough rooms. I have no idea how we swung a private room though, but if I had to guess, I’d say the boys had something to do with that too.
We haven’t seen Rivers since dad kicked him out, meaning Tully hasn’t seen him at all since she woke up and I know that’s hurting her. Her family has come and is always nearby, people from school keep knocking on the door as though they have some right to be here, the side of the room is filled with balloons and flowers, and we’re both fucking sick of it.
I mean, if visitors want to bring something, then they should be bringing McDonalds or something to really get our blood pumping, not these stupid reminders of the hell we went through. Tully is sore and broken, she doesn’t need all these people in here watching her heal. Hell, I’m lucky that I get to be so close. I think Noah worked that out pretty early on as after the tenth time a person came knocking, he told them to fuck off and leave her alone. The nurses quickly got the gist and stopped giving out the room number.
Having Tully in the same room means that I get an up close, detailed explanation of her injuries. Not that she wouldn’t have told me anyway, but it’s nice hearing it firsthand from the doctors and be able to hear their take on her recovery. During the crash, her right arm was crushed and her head was hit, causing a slight fracture to her skull. Three ribs broke and a piece of rib punctured a lung while she also suffered internal bleeding.
The doctors are saying she’s lucky to be alive and I have to say, I agree with them. I only suffered a nasty headache which is nearly gone now and am a little cut up. I don’t know why they’re keeping me here this long, but it could possibly have something to do with the fact that it’s good for Tully, to help her heal. Not that it’s going to happen overnight, but I’ve been keeping her spirits up and making sure there’s a smile on her face.