Callie POV
I'm relieved when we finally get into the room and shut the door, leaving the noise behind us. We do another awkward, painful dance of getting me back into the bed, and all I want to do now is curl up and disappear. After realizing that I made a big deal out of absolutely nothing downstairs, I feel even more pathetic than I did when I left the room earlier.
Lena pulls the tray table over the bed, setting down the bowl of soup and a bottle of water in front of me. My stomach churns, already rejecting the idea of food. Lena gets a spoonful of broth and blows on it, cooling it down before holding it up to me. I am hesitant, but I sip a small amount of it. It does feel good on my throat, but it does nothing for my stomach.
After several spoonfuls, she holds up the water. "Want some?" She asks, sticking the straw into the bottle. I nod eagerly, I'm incredibly thirsty. She holds it up for me to drink, and I hurriedly gulp more than half the bottle before she pulls away slightly. "Sweetheart, you might want to slow down.. I don't want you making yourself sick. You can have it at any time, no need to rush, okay? Just let us know whenever you want some."
My face flushes. Russell always took water away so quickly after offering it, I would barely get a few sips. I guess I've gotten used to trying to get as much as possible when it is offered, and I just.. I forgot that I could ask for it. I try to think of a way to explain this, but quickly realize I don't even want to. They don't need to know that.
"Sorry." I say, feeling dumb. "No, honey, don't be sorry." Lena shakes her head. "There's nothing to be sorry for. I just didn't want you getting sick. Make sense?" I nod, although I still feel oddly guilty.
"Want to try some of the noodles?" Stef pipes up from the chair she is sitting in. I shake my head. I'm afraid I'll have a bad reaction to it like I had with the Jello, and I don't want to risk it. Both Stef and Lena frown slightly. "Do you think you could try just one bite? It would be really good for you." She pushes.
"I guess." I shrug, irritated. Lena offers me a small bite, and I take it carefully. To my surprise, it doesn't bother me. My stomach, on the other hand, seriously disagrees. She offers me another bite, but I turn it down. After 5 more spoonfuls of broth, I shake my head when Lena lifts another spoonful toward me. "Don't want." I say, my voice managing to sound even worse.
Lena looks at Stef, who looks at me with worry. "Love, can you try to eat a little bit more?" I feel anger flare inside me momentarily. "No." I croak. Lena sighs, and Stef gets out of the chair, coming to stand next to the bed. "I know it's hard, sweets, but can you at least take 2 more spoonfuls for us?"
I look away from her, feeling anxious. "Fine." I relent. Eating makes my stomach feel sour, and after 2 more spoonfuls, I feel like vomiting. "Feel sick." I say, which causes Stef and Lena to share a slightly panicked glance as they look for something for me to throw up into. "No," I clarify "Not puke." I feel like I want to hurl, but I don't think I am actually going to.
Lena finds a vomit bag, anyway, and sets it on the table. "Okay, well here is one just in case you feel like you do need to at some point." She says, making sure the bag is in close reach.
"You did a good job, Cal, thank you for taking those extra bites." Stef praises. For some reason, this makes me angry. I don't acknowledge her, instead attempting to pull the blankets up over me so I can go back to sleep.
Stef grabs hold of the blanket and tucks it in for me. "Do you want to lay back?" She asks, ready to lower the head of the bed. I nod, and she lowers me down. Lena is cleaning up the trash from our brunch, and I find myself dozing off almost immediately, lulled into sleep by her mundane actions as Stef combs her fingers lazily through my hair.
5:20pm
When I wake up again, I am shivering violently, far more nauseous now than I was before I fell asleep. I try to sit up, but only succeed in fumbling around and causing myself pain. Lena comes to my aid, raising the bed for me. "Thanks." I mumble.
"Are you cold?" She asks. Before I even nod, she is already tucking the blanket around me, bundling me up. I look up and notice Stef is speaking with a new doctor. Before I have time to be worried, I realize I'm going to throw up. "Throw up." I say, panicky. Lena manages to stick the bag under my mouth just as I begin retching.
Nothing comes out, which almost makes it worse. Stef has come over to rub my back, both her and Lena speaking soothingly to me. After a few minutes of dry heaving, I've become a sweaty mess. Lena pulls the blanket off me, replacing it with a lighter sheet.
I lean my head back, trying to catch my breath. "Do you feel any better, honey?" Lena asks, pushing a few sweaty strands of hair out of my face. "No." I groan, my stomach still cramping.
The doctor Stef was talking to comes back into the room, surprising me. I didn't even realize she had left. "Hi, Callie. I'm Dr. Carter, but you can call me Beth." She smiles kindly at me. "I've got some anti-nausea medication that I can give you, would that be okay?" I'm a little suspicious that she is asking for my permission, but I accept it anyway, desperate for some relief.
She carefully connects the syringe to my IV, pushing the medication. "This should start to help in just a couple minutes." She explains, disconnecting the syringe and moving across the room to dispose of it. I let myself scrutinize her, semi-curious. She is small and delicate, maybe just over 5'0". She looks younger, too; 30s maybe, with dark brown hair.
She turns around, seeming to regard me as well. "I'm sorry that I wasn't working when you came in yesterday, Callie. I will be your doctor from here on out, though, okay?" She seems genuinely apologetic, but I have no idea why. "Ok." I answer.
"So, besides the nausea, how are you feeling today?" She comes toward me, but keeps her distance. I shrug. She seems nice enough, but I don't trust her, and I am not interested in being poked at again. "Are you in any pain right now?" She pushes, seeming unperturbed. I fight not to roll my eyes at this. No, lady, I feel like a million bucks. Obviously I'm in pain. I choose to ignore her instead. Maybe if I do, she'll go away.
"You need to answer her, sweets." Stef speaks up, giving my shoulder a light squeeze. I sigh. "Yes." I respond, not looking at her.
"Okay. Where are you hurting worst?" I pause, considering this. "Hands. And throat." I answer honestly. She nods, looking like she's considering something.
"You know that you can use the morphine button at any time to give yourself relief from some of the pain, right?" Part of me feels judged, but I can tell by her tone that she doesn't mean it that way.
I nod my understanding. "Okay, well as long as you are aware of that. We're not going to force you to take the pain medication, but I really do recommend that you use it whenever you need to. We want you to be as comfortable as possible." She sounds sincere. Kind. Maybe she's not too bad.
"Your mom was telling me that you're having difficulty feeling and moving your fingers?" She asks. I nod. "Do you mind if I see?" I hesitate. I don't really want her touching me. But I guess if it's just my hands.. I nod again.
She picks up my right hand up, and I watch her defensively. "Can you wiggle your fingers for me?" She asks. I try. It comes out as some odd twitching. "Okay, good job. Now I want you to look away and tell me if you can feel what finger I'm touching." I frown, unnerved.
"It's alright, love. We're here." Stef says. I look away. A moment passes. "Did you feel that, Callie?" She asks. I look back at her, shaking my head. I didn't feel anything. She maneuvers each of my fingers around carefully, asking if there is any pain. "Sometimes." I answer.
She picks up my left hand, going through the same motions with slightly better results. On this hand I can feel when she touches it, and the wiggling is a bit more pronounced.
"Okay. The issue may resolve itself over time, but we will get you into physical therapy to make sure everything heals as best it can. If it continues like this after PT, we will see what other options we can look at." She explains. I frown, wondering how long that will take. I don't have much time to think about it before she begins talking again.
"I was also talking to your moms about possibly sending you home tomorrow." This gets my attention, and I look right at her. "Yes. Please." I beg. She gives me a smile. "I thought you might be interested in that! Right now everything is looking well enough that we should be able to discharge you in the morning. There are a few stipulations, though." She says seriously, causing my heart to sink.
"It was noted in your chart that your ability to speak has gotten progressively worse since yesterday, and you complaining of pain along with that makes me a bit more concerned, as well. You know that we ran some tests yesterday, but I would like to do an additional one to see if anything has changed since then. It's called an Indirect Laryngoscopy. All I'm basically going to do is use a small mirror to look inside your mouth at your throat. It can be slightly uncomfortable, but it's a fairly quick and easy procedure; it should only take about 10 minutes total."
I'm already shaking my head, declining. I'm angry at myself for answering her stupid question earlier. I never should've told her it was hurting.
She continues carefully. "Your moms and I have talked about this, and they also agree it would be a good idea to get you checked, Callie.." I throw a hostile glance at them, angry tears forming in my eyes. It's not fair. They shouldn't get to decide. Lena puts her hand on my arm, and I jerk away from her. I don't want their comfort. This is their fault.
"I understand that you're very anxious about anything to do with your throat, and I fully understand and respect that. We do want to refrain from giving you any more sedation until we've evaluated what's going on, but we can absolutely give you anti-anxiety medication to help you through the procedure." Dr. Carter continues.
I refuse to answer or acknowledge her. Why even tell me all of this if they're just going to do it, anyway? My heart flutters, a dreadful familiarity sinking in. I have no control over anything.
"I'm going to get things set up, and some nurses are going to come in to help. I'll let you and your moms talk about if you want to get the medication or not while we do that." Dr. Carter says, turning around to shuffle through some drawers.
"I know this is difficult, love." Stef places her hand hesitantly on my arm, trying to get my attention. I pull away from her without looking; keeping my eyes focused straight ahead of me, unblinking. She continues, anyway. "Do you think you would be okay with getting the medication to make you feel calmer?" For a second, I debate ignoring her. But my anxiety gets the best of me. "Don't want it." I whisper.
Stef sighs. "Honey, are you sure? Nobody is going to hurt you. We will be right here." I shake my head. I don't want drugs. "Okay. If you change your mind at any time, please tell us. I want this to be as easy on you as possible."
A nurse rolls an overhead light to the head of my bed, and then sits me so I am straight up. My heart picks up speed, my anxiety growing. Dr. Carter snaps her gloves on, sliding a tray of instruments over to the bed. I lean away from her.
"So, what's the verdict on the anti-anxiety medication?" She asks me directly. "Don't want." I manage to get out. She looks at me with empathy. "Okay, Callie. If you change your mind, you let us know." She straps a headlamp on, turning on the light.
A nurse turns the overhead light on then, and I feel blinded by the brightness. I close my eyes tightly, pulling my legs up and hiding my face behind my arms. It is only when I feel Stef pull me toward her that I realize I am crying. I don't pull away this time, too needy to be angry. I bury my head into her chest, trying to wrap my arms around her body. "You're okay, love. We've got you." She rocks me slightly.
After a minute, I feel her trying to let go and lean me back against the bed. I fight to stay attached to her.. I know what letting go means. She manages to free herself from me relatively easily; my arms aren't the greatest right now.
"Can you open your mouth for me real quick, Callie?" Dr. Carter asks, holding a small spray bottle in her hand. I clench my jaw automatically, looking at her with distrust. "I'm just going to spray this in your mouth, it will numb your throat." She explains, waiting patiently. I balk, worried, but hesitantly open my mouth.
She squirts the numbing spray into my mouth, and I gag instantly, clenching my jaw shut again. "You're doing great." Dr. Carter states, as though I've just won a race. Stef and Lena are on either side of me, rubbing my arms.
"Okay, now I need you to open your mouth and stick your tongue out. I am going to need to hold and pull your tongue so that I can see into your throat. It may be a little uncomfortable, but it will be over very quickly." Dr. Carter explains, now holding a small mirror on a rod.
This time, I am not so quick to oblige. I glance at Stef, wondering how I can get out of this situation. "You can do it, Cal. I know you can." She tries to encourage me. It takes me a few minutes, but I finally open my jaw, sticking out my tongue. Dr. Carter smiles at me, placing a square of gauze on my tongue before pulling it.
She begins inserting the mirror, and panic wells up inside me. I blindly grasp for Stef and Lena's hands, needing to know they're there. Both of them seem to understand, holding each of my hands gently. "You're doing so great, honey, it'll be over in just a minute." Lena reassures.
I gag a few times, but then it is over surprisingly fast. As soon as Dr. Carter releases my tongue, I clamp my jaw shut. I'm not interested in doing that again. Stef brushes some hair out of my face, leaning in to give me a quick kiss.
"So it looks like you've probably got Acute Laryngitis, likely due to a traumatic injury. We will keep an eye on it, but hopefully you will start feeling better in a week or 2." She smiles at me before beginning cleaning up.
The nurses roll the overhead light away, and everyone starts leaving the room. I pull my legs up again, laying my head on the bed and closing my eyes. I wish this would all be over.
I hear Dr. Carter's footsteps stop before she leaves the room. "You did awesome, kiddo. Hang in there. I'll see you in the morning."