Page 100 of Catching Feeling

Hospitals are always so mind-numbingly cold. It’s something I’ve always remembered since the night I lost my dad. How I could feel the cold seeping into my bones as I waited to hear something, anything. I think all hospitals are probably this way.

I hate them.

Maybe it’s irrational to feel that way about a place that’s supposed to save lives, but they don’t. Always save your life. My dad died here.

Reese grabs my hand and laces my fingers in his before dipping down and pressing his lips to my head, and for a second, I allow myself to soak in his steady, unwavering strength. I need it more than anything right now.

“Okay, it looks like she’s on the tenth floor. Room 1082. You’ll take that elevator to the left, and then hook two rights once you get to that floor. There should be signs to guide you towards the room.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, nearly sprinting toward the elevator. Once inside, I quickly punch the tenth floor, and we ride up in silence. Right now, I’m not capable of a conversation.

I just… I need to see Mom. I need to see that she’s okay with my own eyes and try to figure out how this happened.

The door opens, and I step out, following the attendant’s directions to find her room. I pass clinical white wall after white wall, the smell of antiseptic so strong in the air that I feel like I could choke. I’m willing myself to not have another panic attack, to not have an actual mental breakdown in the hallway of this place, but everything inside of me is threatening to spill over.

It’s triggering just to be here, and… for the same reason. My heart races as we walk down the long hall, and I wring my hands in front of me, trying to convince myself that everything’s going to be okay, that my entire world hasn’t just been flipped upside down in the span of seven hours.

Like it hasn’t crumbled into pieces. Again.

Finally, I see room number 1082 on the wall, and the door is slightly cracked. Just as I’m about to push it open and walk inside, an older nurse with short gray hair and kind eyes walks out wearing light green scrubs.

When she sees me, her brow pulls and she smiles warmly. “Hello. Are you Vivienne?”

I nod wordlessly.

“I heard you were coming. Your mom is sleeping. You can go in, but she’s been in a bit of pain and drowsy from her medication, so please let her rest, okay? Her body needs the rest.”

“Thank you. Can you tell me what happened?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “All I can tell you is that she was in a car accident and suffered trauma as a result. From her chart it says she’s had an MRI and a CAT scan but any new updates or results will come from the doctor as he makes his rounds. I’m sorry I can’t give you anything more definite.”

She gives me a gentle smile as she heads to the room next door.

Quietly, I push the door open and step inside. In what feels like slow motion, the floor falls out from beneath me.

I don’t think I was prepared for what the sight of seeing Mom’s frail sleeping frame drowning in a hospital gown would truly feel like. The emotional impact that it would have seeing her hooked up to countless wires and tubes, her body covered in cuts and deep, purple bruises. Her arm’s in a sling, secured to her chest, and she has a cut on her forehead that’s been stitched shut. Seeing her like this…

It’s so painful I feel it physically.

There’s an ache in my chest that I rub my hand along to try to soothe as the hot tears spill from my eyes, wetting my cheeks.

I’m trying to hold it together, all of the uncontrolled emotions inside of me, but I’m breaking. I’m falling apart, and I don’t think I can keep it together for another moment. I’m hurdling off the cliff inside my head. It all feels like too much.

My hand flies to my mouth, and I run out of the room before I do something selfish, like wake her with my sobs when she needs the rest.

“Viv, baby,” Reese calls from behind me, but I don’t stop. I can’t.

I can’t do this.

I can’t watch her lie there because of my selfish actions. I almost lost Mom the same way that I lost my father. It happened all over again, and I can’t process any of it. I wasn’t here for her.

I sprint down the sterile hallway, pushing through the double doors without stopping as everything in my pathway blurs with tears. My lungs are constricted, burning from the fresh panic attack racketing my body, stealing every piece of me. I’m in the waiting room, doubled over with my hands on my knees as I pant, desperately trying to suck in even the smallest amount of air.

I’m so dizzy it feels like I’m suffocating. My heart is pounding out of my chest. I’m losing it.

“Fuck.”

Black dots dance behind my vision, my head swimming with heaviness. Oh god, I think I might pass out. Reese tugs at my arms, pulling me against his body, which makes me feel more suffocated, and I can’t do it. I can’t do this.

---