True to fashion, Myka had done her research. She knew the outcome of every medical malpractice suit filed against the hospital, and she knew the success rates of the various doctors on her team. She knew all of the statistics, the various treatments, and the projected recovery times. She also knew there would be pain, nausea, discomfort, and a whole host of other symptoms.
What she didn't know, what the sterile facts and figures couldn't prepare her for, were the tedium and loneliness of lying flat on your back in an impersonal hospital room. The barely-comfortable bed, a window that overlooked a parking lot, and TV mounted to the wall, playing inane cooking shows and ridiculous soap operas, just like every other room in the building.
The only thing that differentiated one room from the other were the patients, their visitors, and the occasional personal mementos. Not that Myka had any visitors. Pete was busy, nobody else at the Warehouse even knew she was sick, she certainly hadn't told her family, and Helena was…
Myka glanced over at the table that held one of the few objects in the room she'd brought with her. Helena was better off where she was. As much as Myka longed for her to be there, longed to hear that warm, clear voice read aloud one of the books she was too weak to hold up on her own, she knew that leaving her there… with them… it was the right thing to do. Who was she to tell someone to stop hiding and face their truth when she was guilty of doing the same? Who was she to rip Helena away from a chance at happiness and drag her back into a world of danger, when she couldn't even guarantee that she'd be there by her side in a month's time? No. If things didn't work out, if the worst came to pass, then Helena needed to be around people who cared for her. People who needed her.
Myka wiped at the tear that escaped down her cheek, trying desperately not to listen to the little voice inside that told her that no one cared for Helena more than she did, and even harder not to listen to the voice that said that no one needed Helena right now more than she needed her.
Anyway, it was too late to do anything now. Even as her thoughts were hundreds of miles away, she could hear the nurses coming down the hall to prep her for surgery. Myka reached over to the table and shook the snow globe one last time, watching as white flakes passed in front of black hair, before letting her eyes drift shut.