None of the characters portrayed are mine.
This is just me trying to start writing again. I hope y'all enjoy. Reviews are, of course, always appreciated.
I lay, thoroughly bored, and stare at the ceiling. This is slightly more interesting than television, which says a lot. The tiles are pock marked, the standard tiles used in offices, hospitals and schools. A popcorn ceiling would be more interesting, but that would also involve asbestos, and we finally got rid of the last of that.
In an attempt to force me to rest, the nurses have confiscated my glasses, which renders the pile of medical journals and magazines Abby thoughtfully dropped off for me entirely useless. I could squint, but they're weaning me off of the heavy-duty painkillers and I don't need a headache on top of the dull throb in my hip. What used to be my hip. I don't know what to call it... It's metal and ceramic, and bits of plastic, but 's attached to me, drilled into my bones. I know I shouldn't be thinking about it, but it's hard not to. Or maybe it's the drugs. That's it, I can blame the traces of painkillers.
I glance out the window and sigh. It's a nice day. I hope Henry's outside playing with his cousins. I talked to him on the phone last night for a few minutes... I'd like to see him, but I'm not sure if it's fair for him to see me like this. Carlos handled it well, but he's also older, and it's not the first time he's seen someone in the hospital - with all the times he's seen Jeanie there, and the time or two he's been a patient in the pedes wing, it's old hat to him. I don't want Henry to see me like this, but I'm not sure how much longer I can go without seeing him.
I hear a knock on the door frame and look over to see Abby. There are a pair of glasses in her hand - my spares from my office. I'd jump up and hug her just now if it weren't for the jumping bit. Or the "up" bit. In any case, the visit is a welcome distraction.
"Not disturbing your rest, am I?" she asks.
"No. Don't believe the nurses. If the anesthesia didn't kill enough brain cells, I'm sure the boredom of staring at the ceiling will."
Abby laughs, undoubtedly humoring me, and sets my glasses on top of the pile of journals. She looks around. Those are from the ER," she says, pointing at a bouquet, "Which department is trying to suck up?" she says, pointing at another bouquet.
"Those are from a friend of mine. Sabine."
"I think I've heard the name. Any interesting story there?"
"Between us? No. She's an old friend from a long time ago. But she's interesting. Her parents were missionaries, so she grew up in... Well... It's kind of a long story. I'm rambling. It's the drugs, I swear."
"I don't doubt it. That she's interesting. Not so much that you're rambling. I mean, it's probably the drugs, but it's a nice change from obsessive stoicism," she says and smiles. Just then, I notice someone behind her. It's Florina, and Henry's with her.