Page 21 of Somewhere We Belong

“Have you had any pain meds yet?” she asked, then put my chart down, and pulled a cart towards me.

I looked at Atlas.

“A dose of Tylenol five hundred at eight-thirty,” he said, confirming what I thought I remembered.

“I’m tired and I feel like I’m here, but not here,” I said, getting hit with exhaustion again.

“Ok, that's kind of typical from a concussion and it says here you fell off the roof?” she asked, as she attached the cuff to my arm, checking my blood pressure.

I nodded, too embarrassed to say yes.

“Ok, let me finish up your vitals, get you wheeled down to the CT scan, and then I will give you some pain meds.”

“Ok,” I said, feeling nervous that this was going to be worse than I had expected, like a stay in the hospital.

I looked over at Atlas, who seemed calm, looking over her work. I felt grateful he had come with me, and I didn’t have to drive. He glanced at me, his smile fading as he got up in concern. We locked eyes as we waited for Jane to finish up, he kept me grounded before a full-fledged panic attack hit me.

“Your vitals look good, how about your shoulder?” She asked me to take off the sling I had on.

“I think it's ok, it still hurts.” I sat up to give her a better angle to check out my shoulder.

“We might have to do an x-ray, but I’ll ask the doctor,” she said, pulling my arm up, causing me to flinch. “Movement is great, but I just want to give you a heads up.”

“Ok, what happens if it’s not put in properly.” I looked at Atlas.

“We dislocate it and try again,” she said, putting her hand on my shoulder as I grimaced. “I don’t think that will happen, though, he did a good job of resetting it.”

She smiled at Atlas. A big wave of jealousy hit me. I wanted to tell her not to look at him like that… that he was mine? Atlas looked at me concerned, and I turned away quickly, my cheeks growing red.

Jane smirked at me with a knowing look. “Ok, let me talk with the doctor and I’ll be back. Do you need anything? Food, water?”

“No, thank you,” I said, leaning back in the bed feeling the nausea climb my throat again.

I took a deep breath, slowing my exhale, hoping to curb my need to throw up. Atlas got up immediately, helping me to the bed.

“Don’t fight it, just let it come out.” He rubbed my back. “Maybe we can ask for some ginger ale or something fizzy?”

“Is that medical advice?” I asked.

He chuckled, “Nah, that is personal advice. I got a bad concussion in high school. I was at the hospital and the only thing that felt like it would ease my stomach was ginger ale or Sprite.”

“Am I going to have to stay here?” I asked, but really didn’t want to hear the answer.

“I don’t know, your symptoms are concerning and even though the town has a doctor, if you get worse, we need a hospital,” he said, studying me. “I'd rather be safe than sorry where you’re concerned, Nova, especially since you have Sol.”

I nodded, hating the logic even though it was right. We spent the next two hours waiting for a CT scan and an X-ray. I fell asleep a few times in between and when I was given another dose of pain meds, I was starting to feel better. As we waited for the doctor's results, I constantly checked the clock. I was anxious to leave to go pick up Sol. I felt unsettled at having someone else pick her up and making her worry more.

The doctor pulled the curtain open as he looked at my chart. His expression concerned me as he looked more and more worried. He flipped a couple of pages as Atlas and I stared at him.

“Your CT scan looks pretty normal, but I am a little concerned about the lesion you have,” he said, looking up at us. “I think I would like to?—”

“Is it life or death?” I asked before he could tell me he wanted me to stay here.

“It could be, and I would like to proceed with caution.” The doctor put my file down, pulling out his flashlight from his pocket, flashing it in my eyes and I flinched. “Let me see the cut.”

I leaned my head down as he touched around the cut. He leaned back, touching my neck and then my hands and fingers.

“May I ask what her GSC score was?” Atlas asked.

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