Bella
"Bella?" a female voice asks, simultaneously filling the room with light. I groan and pull my blankets over my head. Mornings and I never had a decent relationship. Unfortunately the nurses' first round starts at 7 AM, which means I have resented them every morning since my 4 week long-stay here. To make it even better: Part from the fact I can make them rise and lower to my liking, hospital beds suck. Hard.
"Go away," I beg, ignoring her pleas and trying to block the noise by pulling the pillow over my head.
She chuckles, making me realize it's Carmen. I like her. "C'mon, love. You know the drill."
I mumble some swears and reveal myself, groaning once more because of the bright light. "Drill is right. I might as well be a damn soldier the way you people keep bothering me," I say with a wide smile and offer her my arm, so she can take my pulse, blood pressure and temperature. Something they'll do about four more times today. "Isn't the fact that I'm still breathing enough for you people?"
"No," she answers bluntly and winks at me.
Dramatically I sigh. "Nurses, always wanting more."
"That's right," she laughs. "You should be grateful, I already make sure you're the last person I wake on my morning-rounds." And that's why I adore Carmen.
"You know I am," I state, because I truly am. "So, gimme the news. Is my heart still beating? Blood still pumping?"
She nods and looks me in the eyes. "Part from a terrible mood in the morning, you seem alright. Now, how are you feeling? Anything new?" she asks. If I would get a dollar every time someone asked me that, I'd be freaking rich by now.
"Well, I did see a doctor get punched in the nose by another last night, if that's the 'New' you're looking for." It has been bothering me the whole night, but after they left I hadn't seen any of them. "Any chance you can tell me how that ended?" I really do want to now and to be honest: I'm worried about dr. Hotshot.
She clears her throat, looking at me with that strict look only Carmen can pull off.
"I'm doing just fine," I answer, though it's a lie. I'm completely exhausted, sleep-deprived and have been nauseous since my last treatment. "I'm thinking about going for a jog later. Think they'll let me leave?" I didn't even jog when I was still healthy. Worst sport ever.
With a small chuckle, she makes some notes in my chart. "No, but they might drag you to the psych-ward."
"Good, maybe they'll let me in on the gossip," I grunt teasingly. She's now the second person who suggested I belong there, I'm starting to feel a little offended.
"Goodbye, Bella," she says amused and makes her way out of my room. "Call us if you need us."
"Will do," I state, "Love you!"
Soon it's just me in the room again and I decide I might as well get up, since I'm not falling asleep anytime soon. Quickly I take a shower and change into bright blue pajama-pants with a grey top. It always has been my favorite and since I'm not allowed to wear any normal people-clothing, I just have to put up with it. I don't see how jeans could kill me, but who am I to argue with people who have a degree?
The moment I'm fully-clothed, I'm bloody exhausted again and am forced to sit down once more. Luckily the same time they bring me breakfast, of which I only eat half a yoghurt. It's all I can muster at the moment, without having to hurl. Then I continue Operation Knockdown, my one way of getting any entertainment here.
I sneak out of my room once all nurses are too occupied to notice me and make my way to Garrett, my partner in crime.
"Knock knock," I say in a figure of speech, since Garrett's door – like mine – is always opened. He's lying in bed, above the covers.
He smiles. "Swan." His smile fades and he gets this fake terrified look, which I know far too well. "Wait. On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is your morning-mood this time?"
"Shut up," I grin and make him scoot over, so the both of us fit in the teeny tiny bed.
"So.. About a 7 or 8?" I stomp his arm.
I thought he'd return the favor, like he always tends to do, but this time he just keep still and stares at the ceiling.
"You're not trying to kick me out of your bed? What the hell is wrong with you?" I ask sincerely shocked. There must be something terribly wrong.
For a few seconds he doesn't respond. "Wondering if you'll survive here without me, love," he says with that awfully British accent of his. That's right. Garrett gets to go home in a few days. I still haven't forgiving him for getting better. Damn bastard.
Alright, that's a big fat lie. But I am going to miss him. Not that I plan on telling him this.
"You're lying," I squint my eyes at him and try my best at giving him the Carmen-look, only making him laugh. Why won't it work for me? She can get someone in bed with a simple glare. I would be able to yell at Garrett and he still would have been utterly impressed. Not that I have tried, but I'm pretty sure. "Tell me."
"Fine," he says, taking a pause. "If you call Daddy Swan." Shit.
I roll my eyes and get out of his bed. That's a no-go subject.
"Swan, wait," he says apologetic when I walk towards the door. He sighs. "My apologies. Too far, I know."
I nod. "Yes. I should kick your ass." But I go lie down again. Part from his big mouth, Garrett's pretty good guy. Actually, even with his big mouth. He might seem hard, but he doesn't have an ounce of bad intentions within him. Except against the Irish, of course. "You're lucky my muscles feel as though all energy has been sucked out of them. So do me a favor and pretend I'm hurting you."
"Auwtch. So much pain," he says dryly. "You should tell him though," he adds casually.
"Garrett," I reprimand him. This is not something I enjoy talking about.
"Alright, alright." He holds up his hands. "You're not talking about your thing, I'm not talking about my thing. Got it. Let's talk about something else then."
"What do you propose?" I take the remote from his nightstand and start surfing through the channels. Ah, the luxury of having a working TV remote.
He sits up and gains a mischievous smile. "Operation Knockdown," he states, immediately gaining my attention. Though I originally came up with Operation Knockdown - a simple name for us doing everything non-illegal we can imagine to mess with the nurses or amusing ourselves - Garrett was doing so, long before I came here. I feel a little pity for them, though. Most of them are actually very kind people, we're really just very bad patients. Something I've been told repeatedly as well.
"Sssssht," I say, placing my hand over his mouth. "They might be listening." I look around the room as if there could be microphones hidden everywhere and soon he joins in.
"You're right," he whispers. We both have the mental age of five-year old sometimes, perhaps that's what made us get along so well, so soon. "They're coming for us." Within a few seconds, he jumps up and closes the door. "I think the coast is clear."
I can't help but laugh. Man, I'm really going to miss him.
"We need to do something big," he says, surprising me. "A way of celebrating my cancer-free life and hopefully never having to come here again."
I raise my eyebrows.
"Part from visiting you, of course." Better.
"What do you have in mind?" I ask, suppressing a cough. My suckish lungs are acting up again.
He sighs, dramatically. "That's the thing. I can't come up with anything worthy of my exit."
"You? Not knowing what to do? And admitting to it? Holy shit. Call the newspaper."
He laughs, taking the remote from my hands. "Smart-ass."
"Don't worry, sweetheart," I say, patting his shoulder. "I'll give you the exit you deserve. You can count on me. Might be good practice, since I'll be left to Operation Knockdown all by myself." Great. I don't even have the slightest idea what to do that's worthy of his leaving. And it has to be big, fitting his inhumanely large ego.
"Smart-ass," he repeats again, suddenly forcing me into a hug. "How lost you'll be without me. Poor kid."
"Air. Suffocating," I whisper overdramatically. "Did. You. Even. Shower? Good lord."
He lets go of me and shakes his head. "Way to ruin a perfectly beautiful moment, Swan," he says grinning, ruffling through my hair. Normally I would mind, I never enjoyed people messing with it. But now I just praise myself for still having any, which won't be for long.
"You know me." I shrug my shoulders. "And, talking about beautiful moments. Did you see the big guy getting decked last night?"
"Who didn't?" he asks, "It was like one of those crappy shows you like in here. I tried flirting some information out of Tanya, but she didn't even move her lips. You know anything 'bout it?"
"Well, I think I might have caused it," I say and start explaining him everything. Well, almost everything. The start of my encounter with dr. Hotshot I wisely leave behind, so not to cause Garrett's endless badgering when it comes to me and men, even though I have constantly told him I'm not the relationship-type. His only response: 'Bull. Shit.'
We continue to talk about the usual gossip, me explaining the drama of yesterday and informing him of old man Bill's – patient in the room next to mine – endless story-telling, though he's quickly declining. In return he tells me how he has been messing with Tanya the last few weeks, subtly changing the tiniest things when she's not watching, making her think she's losing her mind. I had to promise I would take over this job the moment he leaves.
When his brother's there to visit him, I make a fast getaway, strolling back to my room. I don't get a lot of visitors. Probably since I haven't told that many of the fact that I'm ill and most of them think I'm on a trip through Europe. My father is one of them.
To my surprise there's a present waiting on my bed, when I enter my room. But I didn't see anyone leave or enter. Worried I look around. Did someone find out?
I sit down, allowing myself to rest and take the card attached to it in my hands.
Sorry, I couldn't get them on the menu.
Confused I rip of the wrapper and smile when I see what it contains. A basket filled with gummy bears.
Thank you, dr. Handsome, I think to myself.
