Insufficient

Chapter 30 - Takeout

This isn't a TW, however it a Warning.

This will not be up to my normal standards. I won't lie, this chapter was hard on me. I had a mental block the entire time I was trying to write it, and so you're getting what you get.

The likelihood is that I will eventually go back and edit the F^ck out of this chapter.
I'm very sorry in advance.

Juliana's POV

I wish they would have let me put a bra on.

Like, I get that they don't want me messing up the wires with my bra, but not having one on just feels wrong. Could be because I'm into figure skating, so I'm used to having sports bras on 24/7, but I feel too... loose.

If you know what I mean.

They've decided to do something called a 'heart monitor'. Apparently, it's going to see if I actually have an arrhythmia, which everyone already seems to be pretty sure I do, and what kind. Pretty simple, yet incredibly annoying.

At least they let me keep my jumper and didn't make me put on one of the atrocities they call a hospital gown. I know from experience that wearing one of those things is the equivalent to taking a bath in sandpaper.

I take my hand, pawing mindlessly at one of the multicoloured wires resting on the side of the bed. I follow it with my hand, being stopped once I reach my chest. I lift up the front of the hospital gown, peeking down to see that thankfully, I still have boobs.

Call me weird, but not having a bra on makes me question if I still have them or not.

Reaching over, I pick up the small little black box that all of these wires connect to. It's no bigger than, say, a phone. But very chunky, and a little on the heavier side.

It had a very long thick black cord connecting to the end opposite the thin multi coloured ones, that connected to the wall behind my bed.

The black cord was long enough that I could probably walk all over my room and not have an issue.

Not sure if it would allow me to make it all the way to the door or not. That might be pushing it. But it's not exactly like I can go anywhere without assistance right now.

I buzz my lips, readjusting the nasal torture device sticking up my nose. I don't see why I even need to have it anymore. My lungs have basically gotten over whatever shocked state they were in and learnt to breathe by themselves again, thankfully.

Compared to the amount of oxygen I was on when I came in here, this is nothing. That 95% I'm maintaining on the oximeter is practically all me.

I make the idiotic mistake of clearing my throat, which is slowly but surely healing, and instantly regret it.

I have to struggle with my singular arm to get myself sitting as upright as my body would allow at the moment, my lungs trying to cough themselves into oblivion.

I try sucking in deep breaths, but my lungs expel them at such a fast rate that I feel like I am suffocating.

I just know my face has to be going red, and strangely enough I'm gagging amongst the coughing. Because puking is really what I need right now.

My head is going light, black spots darting around my vision. A loud ringing in my ears prevents me from noticing the door opening, but I do notice when a pail gets set underneath my mouth.