𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 | ᵍʳᵉʸˢ ᵃⁿᵃᵗᵒᵐʸ

⁰⁰² 𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

Many people enter hospitals with a mixture of trepidation, curiosity, and empathy.

They observe patients, try to fathom their predicament, and are often grateful not to be in their shoes.

The buzz of IV pumps, the beeping of monitors, the hushed conversations - a strange and slightly intimidating world for most.

But it was familiar territory for me.
As the child of a neurosurgeon and a fetal and neonatal surgeon, the hospital environment was like a second home. I'd run down the hospital corridors while waiting for my parents to finish their complex surgeries, or I'd have fun with the nurses who had been around me since I was a little baby.

So when we entered the hospital, I felt a certain detachment from the whole scenario.

Where others might have looked around with apprehension, I barely noticed the surroundings. It wasn't out of apathy - it's just that this setting had become mundane to me. I carried on, maintaining the same equanimity I always had.

"You will stay here, wait for me, and not move an inch. Is that clear?" my mother's voice had an intensity that would not tolerate any discussion.

It was almost as if I'd been transported back in time to when I was a young little girl, fascinated by the colorful displays in the malls.

I couldn't ignore the maternal seriousness in her expression, even though part of me wanted to roll my eyes. Admittedly, as a child I had a habit of getting lost, especially in malls, much to her chagrin.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, pulling out my phone.
A quick distraction in the form of Angry Birds was just what I needed.

These animated birds, charged with such fervor, seemed the perfect outlet for my swirling emotions. A welcome respite from all the uncertainty.

I was so absorbed by the game that I didn't even notice Mom's approaching footsteps. "We'll wait here," she said distantly. Then, almost in a murmur, "He should be here any minute."

I chuckled, not taking my eyes off the screen, and fired another bird at the sneering green pigs.

"Do you really think Richard is in any shape to pick us up in person?"

Then, out of the blue, that sound, unmistakable and unforgettable, a sound that meant both; home and heartbreak.

A male voice I hadn't heard in months.

I dropped the phone and looked up.
There he was, wearing the coat that had kept him warm on that cold night the last time I'd seen him, and those blue eyes that had always made me feel so loved.

It was Derek. My father.