“No TV in here, sorry,” the nurse needlessly apologizes.
Unless the TV can tell me what’s going on with Ellie, I don’t give a fuck. “Is she okay?” I ask for the first time, terror plain as day in my voice.
The nurse—I’ll get her name eventually—pats me on the arms. “I’m not sure, hon. I’ll have a doctor in as soon as I can, okay? Why don’t you take a seat.” She gestures to the chairs along the wall of the compact room.
I ignore her and begin pacing, wondering who I could call to get more information. I have to knowsomeonewith connections at this hospital. Other than Ellie.Ellie Ellie Ellie. I’ve never known panic like this. I just need to see her.
“Do you know if she’s… If she’s—” I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to slow my breathing so I can get the words out. “Do you know if she’s, like, in a room or bed or, just…do you know where she is?” My jumbled thoughts can’t quite seem to organize themselves as the alarms in my head continue to flash and blare.
The nurse, who I’m guessing is in her fifties, gives me a look of such motherly sympathy I wonder if I sound worse than I think. “I don’t think I introduced myself before. I work with Ellie here in the ED. I’m Maggie. Love that girl to death. I’m not really supposed to share medical information with you, okay? Because I’m not her doctor. But I know she’s getting triaged right now. They need to find out why she collapsed and why she’s in and out of consciousness,” she finishes. “Did she mention feeling sick to you or anything else earlier?”
I think back over the last few days. I don’t think she mentioned feeling sick? Then I remember the locker room incident.
“She threw up a couple of days ago. Wednesday, I think?” I tell her quickly. “But she felt fine after that. She thought maybe it was triggered from a bad smell.”
Maggie’s brow is furrowed. “Okay,” she says slowly. “I’ll make sure I let them know, all right? I’m going to go check in. I’ll try to have someone come talk to you as soon as possible.” She gives me a quick, mild smile before she leaves, closing the door quietly behind her.
I drop in one of the chairs and put my head in my hands.She’s going to be fine. It’s probably nothing serious.
No matter how much I repeat it, I can’t seem to make myself feel any better.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
MATT
It’s beenone hour and twenty-four minutes since Maggie returned to tell us Ellie was being taken back for surgery. No other information, no doctor, no nothing. Justsurgery. It feels like the world shrank to that one word.
My parents are sitting quietly at the two-person table and Nate’s in one of the chairs against the wall. They’re all probably tired of me pacing the tiny room. I can’t stop though. Every time I try to sit I feel like I am going to puke. Ellie is having surgery. And I don’t know what for. What Idoknow is even the simplest of surgeries has risks and that is why I feel sick to my stomach. What if something happens to her? The thought is so horrific I can’t even entertain it. She has to be fine.
My phone has been blowing up, but the only thing I’m interested in on there is the time. I’m sure people are wondering what’s going on. I just can’t think about anything other than Ellie.
“You should probably call her dad, Matty,” my mom says quietly.
Shit. Shit. I definitely don’t even have his number. Maybe the hospital would have it as an emergency contact for her? Or maybe I could call Zo?—
The door clicks open and my head whips in that direction. A middle-aged woman in scrubs and a white coat steps inside. She’s got a clipboard. Hopefully she has a fucking update or I might lose my shit.
“Are you Eleanor’s family?”
“Yes,” I nearly shout.
My parents and Nate stand up. “We’ll go grab coffee. We have our phones, okay?” My mom’s voice is low, but I can hear the stress there.
I nod without taking my eyes off the doctor. I feel Nate hesitating, but he follows them out the door. I’m so anxious for the doctor to start talking that I don’t want to waste the time to tell them they could stay.
She watches them leave with a perplexed look on her face and then flips a page on the clipboard. She looks back to me. “Mr. Ford?”
Mr. Ford?Ah, Ellie’s last name. She thinks I’m her husband? “Matt,” I tell her. My impatience makes my voice come out harsher than I intended. Correcting her fully would take too much time and, also, I quite like the idea of people thinking we’re married. Belonging to Ellie. Ellie belonging to me. The frisson of pleasure at that idea is abruptly snuffed out with the doctor’s next words.
“Do you want to have a seat?” She gestures to the chairs along the wall. My heart stops beating in my chest. I shake my head.
“Okay,” she says with that same mild smile Maggie gave me. Do they teach that to medical professionals? “I’m Dr. Sultana. I’m one of the OB-GYN physicians taking care of Eleanor.”
“Ellie,” I mutter reflexively. I rack my brain for what OB-GYN means. Don’t they deliver babies?
“Ellie,” she confirms with a nod. “When Ellie arrived she was in critical condition because her blood pressure was quite low and she was showing signs of internal bleeding.”
I try to suck in a breath while she keeps talking, but it feels like there isn’t enough air in this room.
