All Four Of Me

Chapter 39

KENZIE

"Can we go home now?" I ask for what must be the millionth time as I pick anxiously at the threads of the hospital blanket sitting over my legs and stomach.

I don't understand why we are in this wretched place.

Serenity had taken over near the start of this whole ordeal so I have no recollection of even getting to the hospital, but apparently Nathan and Will had been beside themselves with worry, proclaiming that this was the only option they were willing to consider under the circumstances. I had vomited blood and that automatically meant that I must be dying, and a visit to the hospital was necessary.

If I had been in control instead of Serenity, I probably could have convinced them that the situation really wasn't as dire as they believed it to be. I could have explained to them that the blood was probably just from my throat where it had been damaged from the amount of vomiting I had done over the past week. I'm certain James would have informed them that I have been unwell in recent days so I don't understand why they are making such a big deal out of it all.

"Not yet honey, the doctor hasn't finished going over your tests and you haven't finished your bag of fluids." Nathan responds patiently while adjusting himself in the arm chair beside the bed, the sound of the plastic creaking beneath him making me cringe internally.

Right. How could I forget the cursed IV attached to my arm.

Serenity was still in control when the nurses put the needle into my hand, something that I am very grateful for because I probably would have had a meltdown if I had been present for that. Despite not having to experience the injection of the needle it doesn't mean that I'm still not stuck with the rest of the IV experience now. If I try to curl my fingers too far or move my arm too suddenly it causes a sharp ache in the back of my hand, a harsh reminder that there is in fact a needle resting inside one of my veins. That thought alone make me shudder in pure disgust, and it won't be a moment too soon when the nurse comes in to remove the offending item from my arm again.

Honestly, I feel embarrassed, ashamed even to be sitting here under these circumstances. Somebody else who is actually sick could be occupying this bed instead of me. I have been in far worse shape than this before in the past, the mere thought of going to the hospital completely nonexistent, and I still turned out fine so I can't for the life of me understand why this little hiccup in my health has warranted such a drastic solution.

"I wish you had told me sooner that you were feeling this unwell." Nathan says after a few moments of uncomfortable silence between us.

It's the first time he has properly addressed me about the issue at hand since I regained control of my body early this afternoon. The atmosphere in the room has basically hummed with tension from the moment I first tried to find out what was going on, and despite multiple attempts on my part to try and smooth out some of Nathan's incessant worry, those attempts for the most part have ended up being futile.

Nathan has spent most of the afternoon with his eyes glued to his phone, frantically typing out what I assume have been a plethora of text messages and emails to both the rest of our housemates, and my agency case worker. Occasionally, he would read out the messages from home, probably in an attempt to make me feel less miserable about being stuck in a hospital bed while the rest of the world keeps moving along with their lives. Those messages do manage to make me smile, but they haven't done anything to ease Nathan's torment.

"You had other things to worry about." I state in return, not bothering to try and correct him again. I have told him a million times that I am feeling fine, but I don't have much faith in him believing me the millionth and first if I were to tell him again. Some battles just aren't worth fighting, and right now this is one of them.