Amelia Ridgeway (witchyguardian) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2011-07-10 09:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-08-18 |
Drugs DO work wonders!
Who: Amelia and OPEN
Where: University Hospital (UMHS)
When: Early Afternoon
Amelia felt certain she should feel pain. Instead she was in a bit of a daze. When she tried to think of yesterday she remembered very little. She remembered getting to the hospital and prepping for surgery. She remembered, vaguely, being moved to her room, but she had slept most of the day. And she was thankful for that. She was thankful for a whole lot, actually, and she could only imagine it was thanks to the drugs. How else could she possibly feel anything but miserable under these circumstances? Granted, she was alive and hopefully would remain that way, so that was certainly something to be thankful for.
Sound played from the television nearby but Amelia didn't pay it any mind. She had tried to focus on it, to keep her mind off other things, but couldn't get into it. She had never been fond of daytime television and today was no exception. She had tried to read one of her cheesy novels but couldn't get into that either. It seemed that no matter her thoughts she consistently went back to thinking of why she was there and then she'd hit her button for more pain and mind numbing bliss. She couldn't think about what happened. It was too depressing to think that while she was a woman she would hardly look one anymore. It was depressing to think about the items that were en-route via UPS to her home. Sure they'd make her look as if her breast wasn't removed but she would always know it was gone. It bothered her far more than she'd care to admit to anyone.
So instead of dwelling on her situation (after all, she was alive damn it and what was a lousy unused breast in comparison to that?) she played mental games. Well, she attempted to play mental games. The door to her room was open because she liked to see the people walk by. Her favorite were the little old ladies pushing their walkers around. Most of them were pretty spunky and she kept a tally of their complaints and arguments. Then she kept a tally of how many responses were suppressed smiles from doctors, nurses and physical therapists. It seemed they liked the spitfires. Of course another hour would click by and Amelia would lose count. But that didn't really matter. What mattered was she was occupying herself.
With a sigh Amelia looked away from the door. No one was out about. She couldn't count people's conversation or colored scrubs. Boring. She looked out the window that provided a mostly obscured view of the sky outside. She wanted to be out there, not stuck in a bed. She wanted to have Ceri on her lap as she sipped a drink on the porch. Soon, she reminded herself. I'll be better, soon.