I'm not saying I hate Alexander Jameson. After all, I have Jesus in my heart like the good southern girl I am. But if I did hate anyone?
Alex would definitely make the cut.
I have one, singular move in this never-ending game of torment he forces...
My eyes flutter open, and a blur of light hits me. I panic and grab the object that's smothering my face, but a hand stops me, holding it over my own.
"You're okay," says a soft voice. "It's an oxygen mask."
My eyes find the man holding the mask in place. His eyes are kind.
"Breathe Babbie." He inhales, slowly puffing up his chest. I nod, matching his movement. "Breathe," he says again, and when I comply, he takes his hand away.
"Do you remember what happened?"
I nod remembering the bee stinging me.
"You had an allergic reaction. It was a close call, but your friend got you to help just in time."
Alex! My eyes dart around the small space, looking for him. It feels like we're in motion, and I now realize that I'm in an ambulance.
The man grabs my hand. "It's okay. He's going to meet us at the hospital." He smiles. "That and he kind of pissed off my partner."
I close my eyes in silent humor. Yeah, that sounds like Alex.
"You were given a dose of Epinephrine to counteract the anaphylaxis. Have you ever had that medication before?"
I shake my head no.
"Your thigh may be sore from the injection, but it saved your life."
I blink back tears, and the man lays a soothing hand on my arm. "I know it's a lot to process, but you're going to be okay."
I swallow, trying to control my emotion.
He leans in close and smiles warmly. "Babbie?"
My eyes focus on his.
"Breathe."
And that's what I do.
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The next hour passes in a blur of hospital logistics. Once I arrive at the Hospital, I'm moved to a small, white room and asked to change into a gown. They don't say anything about my undergarments, so I decide to leave them on.
A doctor stops by and goes over the incident with me, saying that he plans to keep me overnight for observation. He prescribes me an EpiPen for me to take home, giving me a very stern warning to have it with me at all times before he recommends something called immunotherapy that can help lessen my bodies exaggerated response to bee venom.
Not long after he leaves, a bubbly nurse with short, red hair and a gruff voice named Lynn walks in.
"Okay, cupcake. Looks like we got some meds for you." She grabs my chin and tilts my head, studying my face. "That little sucker did a doozy on you, didn't he?" She lets me go, smiling. "No worries, we'll get you looking back to normal in no time."
