"Sleeping off the Vicoden. That stuff knocks her for a loop in the dose she was given." Sean got up and poured her a cup of water from the pitcher on a table across the walk space from the foot of her bed. It appeared communal by the pile of disposable cups. He found a straw and returned, patiently holding the cup and straw so Chelsea could drink.
Once she'd had her fill, Sean made a show of looking over Chelsea's sides. "Nope, you aren't luggage. No handle, and I don't think your wheels are gonna work too well at the moment. We can hang an ID tag round your neck if you like." He'd spent more time than he'd care to remember tending to people who were bedridden. It was uncomfortable for the memories only, not because of the atmosphere. "Where's you're room?" He became serious now, practical. "Hate to break it to you, but you're gonna need company. We'll see if some of your friends can do a rotation, as well as a nurse or aide once in a while. Nothing like having people at your beck and call."