Page 92 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
After that, I was itching to get out of the hospital as soon as possible. I was capable of walking, but the nurse insisted that I be brought to the car in a wheelchair. My father met us back in the waiting room, and to my surprise, he bent down to give me a hug, being careful not to touch my stomach. As he pulled away, I noticed the slightest hint of concern in his eyes.
He had been worried about me. Even if he barely showed it.
The nurse and my mother helped load me into the front seat of my father’s truck. I insisted that I would be fine in the back, but my mother wanted me to be able to recline my seat and get some rest.
“I guarantee she’ll be passed out the rest of the day,” the nurse told my mom as she handed her a bundle of discharge paperwork. “Once she’s awake, make sure she takes some pain meds. The injections we gave her will only last about 12 hours.”
Injections. They gave me pain injections. No wonder my incisions don’t hurt yet.
“Goodbye, Avery!” The nurse waved as she closed the door of the truck and my father pulled away from the hospital curb.
It was still surreal that the surgery was over. It had been less than an hour since I woke up, and I was already being discharged and sent home.
As my mother instructed, I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes as a sudden wave of exhaustion rolled over me. We had a long drive home to Orlando, which was plenty of time for me to get some rest.
I may have had a haywire burst of energy immediately after my surgery, but by the time we made it home at nearly 3 pm, I felt like I hadn’t slept in years. Just the short walk from the car to my bedroom was as exhausting as a marathon, and I needed both of my parents’ assistance to not collapse along the way.
I fell asleep almost instantly; a series of bizarre, anesthesia-fueled dreams looping through my mind in erratic patterns as I slept. My weary body finally awoke in the early evening, when the amount of sunlight streaming through my window had significantly dimmed. Even with my eyes open and my mind alert, I still struggled to sit upright. My limbs felt like lead.
At this point, I assumed the anesthesia had worn off. The world no longer had a surreal, hazy tinge to it, like I was living in some sort of alternate reality. My eyes flicked over to my plain white end table, and I struggled to reach my phone without having to shift out of bed. I knew I likely had tons of messages awaiting me.
Cassidy, Aaron, and a few other members of the game shop had all texted me. Cassidy asked how I was feeling and told me to check my Steam account. She’d gifted me a video game, with a cute note telling me to enjoy it while I was recovering. Aaron said that Sam was asking about me and offered to host a board game night for all of us once I’d recovered.
I smiled, wading my way through the sea of “feel betters” and “get well soons” while a soothing warmth bloomed in my heart. I’d never realized how many true friends I had at Critical Games. How much of a community we’d become.
And of course, after I made my way through all my texts, I had saved the best for last.
I was just about to send him a sweet, loving message telling him that I was fine and that I missed him…until I caught a glimpse of my texts from earlier.
Dev! Jt I got out! I dd t!
I frowned. What the hell?!
Druged gat! Pan not. Docr endo petri has! Rite!
This message was followed up with several blood drop emojis, and I smacked a palm against my burning forehead.
I swear to God that’s not what I typed…
No wonder Devin’s texts didn’t make sense.Mytexts didn’t make sense. How could I feel so stable and be so incoherent at the same time?
Fucking anesthesia.I plopped my phone on my bed and took a few deep breaths.Never again.
Once I had a few moments to self-analyze and be certain that the anesthesia had made its way out of my system, I picked my phone back up and typed out a message to Devin.
Hey Dev. Just got a look at my texts from earlier. Sorry about that.
I checked the message three times before I sent it, making sure that my eyes weren’t deceiving me.
Don’t apologize. That was hilarious. And hello sweetheart. I’m assuming, based the fact that your message uses actual English, you’re no longer drugged up?
I think so. The world isn’t quite as weird anymore.
That’s good to hear. You’ve recovered okay? Are you in pain?
Yeah, I’m fine. The stitches don’t really hurt, I’ve just been sleeping a lot.
Well I need to ask since it’s almost 5:30… have you received any deliveries today?
