I'm starting to get an inkling of why people associate fear with hospitals. If I keep going to the building due to this feeling of nervousness and blankness, I will come to hate the building too.
But right now I just need him to be alright.
I pace up and down the limonium floor trying to my hardest not to be worried about him but that causes me to worry more.
This time I can't strong arm anyone into telling me how bad or worse he is. The paramedics that responded to my call had explained why they had to take him to the nearest hospital in town. He was unconscious by the time they got to us.
And all I could do was kneel beside him and hold his hands
I had called Richards as soon as we got to the hospital and he had promised to meet me here in one hour.
That was thirty minutes ago.
I've gotten different looks from people in the waiting room. From concern to agitation to pity to disdain. A little boy even offered me his seat but I turned it down politely. I wouldn't last one second doing nothing an hospital chair.
I just wanted to see him with a fierceness that was bothering on madness.
I walk down the waiting area for the hundredth time that day hoping for some sort of miracle only to bump into something. . .
I thought I'd never see again.