Page 44 of Life Or Death

My gaze moves from the insanely thick folder to her face. She smiles at me like she’s done so many times before, and my anxious thoughts pause for a moment.

Out of everyone I’ve encountered over the last few months, she’s going to be the person I miss most.

“I know it looks like a lot,” she continues. “But I promise we went over most of this already. Think of it as an insurance policy.”

Oh, Sandy, if you only knew the irony.

Returning the smile, I take the folder from her.

“Thank you,” I say, although the words don’t seem adequate. She held my hand through some of my darkest hours and advocated for me when no one else did. Two simple words cannot convey the gratitude I feel for her.

Now, I understand why so many people are quick to call nurses angels.

Dr. Patel clears his throat, jarring my attention back to him.

“I have referred you to a physical therapist closer to your home, and I want you going five days a week.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “In a month from now, I’ll see you at my office, and we’ll assess your scars to see if reconstructive surgery is necessary.”

He swipes at the screen of his tablet, then continues, “I put in a couple of prescriptions for you as well. There are two to help you manage the pain, and an ointment I want you applying to your legs twice a day.” He looks up. “The psychiatrist also prescribed you something to help you sleep, am I right?”

The question hangs in the air, and my mind wanders back to the last few weeks. There were days when I pushed myself so hard in PT that my body should’ve collapsed into an unconscious state the second my head hit the pillow. Instead, I’d lie there staring at the ceiling. When sleep finally found me, it would be fleeting because the night terrors came roaring back.

It didn’t happen every night, but at least fifty percent of the time I fell asleep. I noticed there was a pattern. If I was more anxious during the day, then that night I was more likely to have a nightmare.

It also wasn’t lost on me that the nightmares returned the same night Lucifer stopped visiting me. I just didn’t want to acknowledge that Lucifer, with all his flaws, was my greatest source of comfort.

“Yes,” I say. “She also gave me a prescription for my anxiety.”

Dr. Patel nods, his eyes moving across the screen. “Yes, I see that noted on your chart.” He looks up again. “And you’ve scheduled a follow-up telehealth visit with her already?”

“Yes, I’ll be meeting with her once a week on Zoom.”

Seeming satisfied with my response, he lowers the tablet. “Well, I think that wraps everything up. I gave you explicit instructions on your limitations.” He holds up one finger. “Until I see you again, I only want you going up the stairs once a day, and I prefer someone accompany you for the first week or so. It’s very easy to lose your balance when your range of motion is limited.” Another finger. “And no driving until you see a neurologist. We need to get that nerve damage under control before we put you behind the wheel of a car.”

I don’t understand why I have to wait another month before I can drive. The nerve damage is improving. Most days I can even feel my toes, and the tingling comes and goes. It’s definitely less frequent than it was two weeks ago.

I’m not saying he should clear me to go on a road trip anytime soon, but it just would be nice to get myself to my doctor’s appointments without having to inconvenience Tori or pay for a cab.

I open my mouth to argue but quickly stop myself. I don’t want to give him a reason to keep me here.

“Okay,” I agree, reluctantly.

Dr. Patel tucks his tablet under his arm and studies me for a moment.

“I left a message for your husband,” he says carefully, “but he hasn’t called me back.” A pause. “I would’ve really liked to go over these things with him. It can be a lot on a person, and it’s always good to have a second set of ears.

My stomach drops at the mention of Lucifer.

I’ve had some time to process what happened the last time he was here, and honestly, there have been days when I’ve stared at the door, hoping he’d walk into my room. If I’m being totally honest, I did it five minutes before Dr. Patel and Sandy entered my room.

Of course, I scolded myself afterward.

I can admit that I may have overreacted, but I did it in the name of self-preservation. I can also admit there is a small part of me that hoped he wouldn’t just give up on me just because I sent him away.

For a while he was like a lifeline to me, and just because I’m terrified of getting attached to him, doesn’t make it easier to lose him.

Sandy definitely caught on, especially when she’d hear me scream at night, and there were plenty of times when she offered to call him for me.

I declined every time.