Another quiet groan leaves her. Harmon walks back into the room, a nurse following after him.
“Hi, Chrissy. How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”
Chrissy stares at the nurse, confusion on her face.
Still not saying a word.
My heart starts to pound. I’m going to throw up. Cammy reaches for my hand, grabbing on tightly. I feel Harmon close by. Just knowing he’s there if I need him is helpful, even though he can’t fix this. If she is… if Chrissy is… it’s not fixable. Not a single cent of Harmon’s money could make this better.
“My name is Hannah. I’m going to take your vitals, okay?” the nurse says sweetly.
“Okay,” Chrissy rasps out, and then the tears fall. I feel like I’m floating out of my body. The relief is unimaginable.
Cammy grabs onto me, hugging my arm and crying against my shoulder. I don’t hide that I’m crying too.
“Vitals look good,” Hannah says with a smile. “I’m going to get you some water. The doctor will be in here shortly.”
Cammy and I hug Chrissy, asking her a million questions. One word doesn’t mean all is well, but it’s a start.
She doesn’t answer any of our questions, but she does smile slightly. Her eyes are barely staying open, but she is more awake.
The doctor comes in and introduces himself to Chrissy, offering his hand for her to shake. She lifts it, but struggles reaching his, so he meets her the rest of the way.
“If you all could take a seat, I’ll need some room to do a few things,” Dr. Crouse says.
Begrudgingly, we grab our chairs from the side of the bed and move them back, giving him room. He goes through a series of neurological tests, and asks her questions that she answers, though quietly. The nurse comes back with the water.
“Sorry that took so long,” Hannah says, offering Chrissy a sip with a straw. She drinks and swallows only a few sips.
“Better,” she rasps out.
Maybe she wasn’t speaking because her mouth was dry? Or her throat hurt?
The doctor asks her a few more questions, checks her reflexes. Tells her to remember a list of words he gives. Asks the year.Who the president is. Stuff like that. I can barely make out what she’s saying, but she’s answering—that’s something.
“Well, Chrissy, the good news is you seem perfectly well.” Cammy grabs onto my arm, a happy cry escaping her. “Other than being tired and maybe a headache, you should be just fine. Though, you will need to see your neurologist as soon as possible, and I am sending you home with a prescription for an emergency dose of diazepam.” He turns to look at me “If she has another seizure that reaches three minutes, you will have to administer the medication.”
“How do we give it to her if she’s seizing? Is it a needle?” Cammy asks.
“It’s rectal,” he says, giving a soft smile. “I understand it’s not ideal, but a lot of patients use this and it’s saved many lives. It was nice meeting you all. Good luck.”
He leaves the room, and Chrissy looks at us and says, “You’re not putting anything in my butt.”
We all laugh.
It’s almost four in the morning when we get home.
“I can walk up the stairs,” Chrissy argues as she shoves me away. “I’m tired but I’m not incapable.”
I hold my hands up and step back, but the moment she starts up the stairs, I go up right behind her in case she falls—I will catch her. Cammy comes up after me with Harmon onthe end. I told him he didn’t have to stay, but he insisted. I wasn’t going to argue because sleeping with him is nice, especially after such a stressful day. Being held by him… it’s exactly what I need.
Chrissy goes right to her room once we’re inside.
“If you think you’re staying in there alone, you’re crazy!” Cammy calls out, sneaking into the room as Chrissy tries to shut the door.
I hear them arguing behind it.
“I don’t need your help, Cammy. I know how to get dressed.”