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ZOEY AKILA bennet ! sugarhill, north general hospital featuring; @itszoeyb .
"WE ARE HERE to tell you inform your daughter is very much alive. our medical team conducted several tests and found that she was actually unconscious, just deeply asleep, and had not died," explained the nurse, locking eyes with the visibly shaken man before her.
dayvon's eyes darted back and forth in confusion,"so what your saying is.. my daughter is alive?"
the nurse, with empathy evident in her eyes, nodded vehemently. "yes, she's presently in her room. we've given various medications and performed numerous tests. i recommend you avoid discussing the events of that day when she regains consciousness—her memory doesn't extend beyond the day prior to her fainting."
the man sagged into his chair, the tension draining from him as the feeling of relief washed over. words seemed inadequate to capture the whirlwind of emotions he was experiencing. he felt that maybe, just maybe, his recent return to church had played a part in this unexpected blessing.
as the nurse's words filtered through the heavy air of the hospital corridor, they landed with an improbable weight, carrying a truth that seemed to defy for a father sitting there, grappling with a surge of emotions, it was less about the hows and whys that the nurse elaborated on, and more about the singular, piercing fact that shifted his world on its axis—his daughter, zoey, was alive.
his heart, which moments before had been locked in the vice of grief, now throbbed erratically with a tumultuous blend of relief and disbelief.
the nurse's explanation about tests and medications, about unconscious states mistaken for death, played out like a distant echo as his thoughts tunneled with overwhelming focus on only one thing.
zoey.
while the nurse's lips moved, expounding on medical procedures and cautions about fragile memories, the father found himself anchored by only that one resonant note in the cacophony of information.
his daughter was alive.
in his rattled mind, questions clamored for attention—how could it be, what happened, what's next?—but they fell away, unasked and unanswered.
his confusion melded and even amidst the jumble of half-heard medical terms and guidelines for the path ahead, only one thing truly mattered. his daughter was here, her existence defying the grim prognosis he had braced against.
the man slouched in his seat, feeling relieved, if that was even the word that could possibly describe how he was feeling at the moment. he didn't know what miracle had brung up to this moment, but he knew that going to church was helping.
the nurse extended a set of documents toward him. "we'll just go and check on her one last time before we allow you to go into her room," she said before rising from her chair. hrt footsteps echoing in the quiet of the office as she departed.
