Page 9 of Until Tomorrow Comes
Like when I tried to hide from Zack.
I turn back to the nurse, she smiles, tapping a few more times on her tablet before setting it at the end of my bed and fully turning her attention to me.
“I’m Cori, the head nurse assigned to you, I treated you when you arrived.” She smiles softly. “How are you feeling?”
Her question is innocent and professional, but it immediately gives me anxiety, knowing that now I’m going to have to do the hard part: Explain what happened.
Alan has always been adamant that you should never try to hide small details from doctors or nurses, because oftentimes minor things that might seem insignificant, could be important. Or even save your life.
Impulsively, I glance at my brother before focusing on Cori again.
“Um, I think I’m okay.” I stutter and grip at the stiff blanket beneath my hand.
“Have you ever had a panic attack before, Kat?” She asks gently as she begins to check my vitals and bandages.
Her presence is calming, and her brown eyes show nothing but concern and kindness.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see my brother shift, crossing his arms across his body, and I deliberately avoid looking in his direction as I answer.
“Not like that,” I answer softly.
Cori holds my gaze for a moment longer, as if silently hearing the things I don’t feel comfortable saying with him here. She then turns to my brother with a polite smile.
“Alan, I need to talk to your sister about a few things in private,” she says in a manner that is both firm and gentle at the same time. “Would you mind waiting in the hall with your parents?” Her voice holds a bit of an edge to it, making me think he will put up a bit of resistance at being asked to go sit with them.
But he just nods and steps toward the door, pausing with his hand on the handle to look at me.
“I’ll be right outside if you need me.” He says reassuringly before opening the door and stepping out.
Cori waits until the door is shut before grabbing the tablet at the end of my bed. She checks the monitor, jotting down a few things before finally looking at me.
“Due to the severity of your panic attack, we did have to sedate you to prevent you from further injuring yourself. Do you remember what caused the reaction?”
The way she asks makes it sound like she already knows the answer. I nod and glance at the door.
“It wasn’t Alan’s fault. He was upset because of all this,” I gesture broadly to my battered body, “But when I saw the anger in his eyes, I suddenly remembered my husband’s eyes, and how they looked at me when…” I trail off, taking a trembling breath and give myself a break from her heavy stare.
Cori just stands next to me silently, allowing me a moment to catch my breath and get myself together. When I am finally able to meet her gaze, I see the empathy and understanding on her face.
“It’s a normal response after what you’ve been through. Recovery is going to be a lot more than just a hospital stay and a few weeks of rest. Everyone heals differently. Especially when surviving…what you have.”
Cori softens her tone, before touching my hand gently. “Have you ever worked with a therapist?”
I can only manage a small nod as my response.
“If you need any recommendations, we have some suggestions.” Clearing her throat, she moves to the foot of the bed where there is a small table, setting the tablet down before looking back at me.
“I’d like to review your injuries with you. Are you feeling up to it?”
I nod.
“You have a couple broken ribs, two broken fingers, multiple bruises, and the cut next to your left eye needed stitches, as did the gash on your hip,” She pauses, letting me absorb all that information for a moment before continuing.
My hands grip the rails of the bed. Part of me wants to know the extent of all the damage, yet the other part of me wishes I didn’t have to hear it all played back for me.
The next ten minutes pass painfully as I listen to Cori. There are parts of last night that are a blur, leaving me unsure of how far he went. Hearing confirmation that the damage he inflicted was external is a minor relief that offered very little comfort.
After going over a self-care routine, she writes down a reminder for me to make an appointment to get a follow-up, and leaves to get me more pain medicine.
