Forgetting You

So leaving the hospital had me a little on edge.

My headaches had been more annoying than really painful since I’d collapsed in front of Elliot after he helped me shower, but I was always paranoid that one would suddenly strike me down and that I’d be rendered useless again. Knowing I was going home and away from the nurses and doctors was daunting, but I reminded myself not to think negatively. I had to think of things as they came and stop getting ahead of myself.

It had helped me get this far, and I hoped it would help me get a lot further too.

“Elliot is sad he isn’t here, isn’t he?”

I looked at my mother.

“Yeah,” I said. “But I’m glad he’s gone back to work; he was here so much they may as well have given him a bed.”

Mum chuckled. “How have his first few days been back on watch?”

“As good as can be,” I answered. “A couple of small fires, a minor car accident, and I think he said they had to help get a cat out of a tree yesterday.”

“No!” Mum laughed.

I smiled. “He says he misses me.”

“Of course he does.” Mum rolled her eyes. “And you miss him.”

“Of course I do,” I mimicked her, chuckling. “But he finishes his second night shift at nine a.m. and then he’s off for four days. He says he’s spending them with me.”

“I’m not surprised,” Mum said, winking. “You’re both acting like you did when you first began to date, always wanting to be around one another.”

I felt myself blush. “I love him.”

“I know you do,” she said warmly. “Which is why I made an appointment on Monday morning with a solicitor . . . so you can start the divorce process.”

I felt terrible whenever I thought about Anderson, I truly did, but I had to do what was best for me – and that meant cutting off all ties with him.

“Good.” I exhaled. “I’m ready for that.”

“When will you speak to him?”

“I’ll phone him on Sunday and meet him somewhere in town.” I gnawed on my lip. “I don’t want to do it publicly, but I’m also not going to his home. I lived in that place, and I just feel weird about going there.”

“I don’t blame you.”

We both looked up when Doctor Abara entered the room. I returned his happy smile.

“Ready to go home?”

“Born ready,” I answered.

He laughed. “I’ve a prescription here for you. These tablets are only to be taken as you need them. When you get a headache, take them, Noah. No trying to hold out and hoping it goes away. You take the medication. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” I saluted him. “I’m not a fan of taking tablets, but I’ll do it. You have my word.”

“Good. You’ll come back in six weeks’ time to outpatients for a check-up, and we’ll decide then when your next check-up should be. But if everything is well with you, I’m thinking six months from that day.”

I bobbed my head. “Sounds good to me.”

“As I said yesterday” – he looked at me and my mother – “any double vision, dizziness or signs that you might be having one of your bad headaches, you come straight into Casualty. No exceptions.”

“She will,” Mum answered. “The three of us will make sure of it.”

And that was the God’s honest truth.

I thanked the doctor, and it turned out my mum had brought him chocolates, a bottle of wine and a thank-you card, which caught him off guard. He assured her he was just doing his job in taking care of me, and Mum reminded him that by “just doing his job” he had saved her child’s life. He accepted the gifts with thanks, told me to take care of myself, and said his goodbyes and that I was free to leave.

Dad caught the doctor in the hallway, thanked him and shook his hand before venturing inside my room. “Ready to go?” He rubbed his hands together. “All of your things are packed into the boot of the car.”

I grabbed my crutches as Mum straightened down the back of my dress.

“Let’s blow this joint!”

My parents laughed as we left the room and said goodbye to the many nurses we’d come to know by name. Mum had gotten them gifts too. We wished them all the best as we left the hospital with smiles on our faces. Dad didn’t want me walking far, so Mum and I sat and waited at the entrance while he hurried to retrieve the car. When he pulled up, he helped me into the passenger side while Mum hopped in the back.

I drummed my fingers on the dashboard, making Dad laugh as he climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Let’s go home!”

Mum reached over and squeezed Dad’s shoulder, a moment passing between them that brought a smile to my face. As we drove we talked, and I tried to figure out how to work the new phone my parents had bought me. It was an iPhone, like Elliot’s. I had been an Apple user back in 2015 but things had really changed, and I found myself playing around with it to get accustomed to it.