Page 46 of Doctor Second Chance

I open my eyes, blinking away the haze of sleep as the nurse comes in to take some vitals. I may have dozed off for a while, but I've been tossing and turning for the last hour.

"How are you feeling, Elle?"

"Tired, but having a hard time sleeping. Otherwise, I'm okay."

"I have orders to give you something to help you sleep if you want something?"

"No, I'm okay right now. I'll let you know if I need something. Thank you."

I probably should take something. I have enough drugs in me already. What’s a few more? It's not like I have anything to do tomorrow except hope this damn nightmare ends soon.

Once the nurse leaves, the hospital room is dim. Only the soft glow of monitors breaks through the darkness. My parents left hours ago, finally convinced I wouldn’t slip away the moment they stepped out. At least they understand that visits are pleasant, but I also need some downtime.

Unlike some others. I sigh, thinking of Justin's prolonged visit earlier. His tearful confessions of love felt more draining than touching.

My gaze drifts to the empty chair beside my bed. Shep. Where is he? He's the one warm body I wouldn't mind being here with me.

I grab my phone to check the time, wincing as the bright screen illuminates. It's past Opie's bedtime, I realize with a pang. In just a few days at Shep's house, I've already memorized their nightly routine. Bath time at 7, stories at 7:30, lights out by 8.

A knot forms in my stomach. Did something change? Was Shep's absence just a fluke, or...? My mind races, replaying our earlier conversation. He'd seemed so sincere about wanting to explore things between us. But now, radio silence.

Being stuck here feels so helpless. I don't feel like I can call him. So instead, I have to lie in this fucking bed and hope he comes by.

I try to push away the creeping doubts, but they cling stubbornly. What if he freaked out after opening up? What if that was just emotion talking because I have been so ill? I don't think that is too crazy of a possibility.

I close my eyes, willing sleep to come. It feels futile. My brain is in overdrive, conjuring worst-case scenarios. It's going to be a long night.

Tuesday, July 16

7:08 am

I blink my eyes open, momentarily disoriented by the soft clicking sound nearby. As my vision clears, I see Mom sitting in the chair beside my bed, her knitting needles moving rhythmically.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she says, noticing I'm awake.

"Morning, Mom," I croak, my voice still raspy from the intubation. "What time is it? How long have you been here?"

She sets her knitting aside. "It's just past 9 AM. I got here about an hour ago."

I stretch carefully, mindful of the IV lines and monitors still attached to me. "I must've been out cold. I don't even remember the nurses coming in for vitals."

Mom smiles. "That's because they didn't. I was walking up when they did rounds earlier. They said you're doing so well, they'll probably move you out of ICU today."

"Really?" A surge of relief washes over me. "That's great news."

"It certainly is," Mom agrees. "No more constant beeping and poking and prodding every hour or two. You'll be able to get some real rest."

I nod, grateful for the prospect of a quieter recovery space. As much as I appreciate the attentive care in the ICU, the idea of a regular room sounds heavenly right now.

"Did the doctor say anything else?" I ask, curious about my progress.

“Your vitals have stabilized nicely, and your latest blood work looks good. They'll do a more thorough check once you're settled in the new room."

I let out a contented sigh, feeling genuinely optimistic for the first time since waking up from the coma. It's a small but essential step on the road to recovery.

As I digest the news about my potential move out of the ICU, Dr. Reeves walks in, clipboard in hand. His presence immediately puts me on alert, but his smile is reassuring.

"Good morning, Ms. Klass," he greets me warmly. "I have some excellent news for you."

---