TJ's POV
I'm going to see Luis today, at least that's what my nurse told me. It's been four days since I found myself in here and he still hasn't come to visit. I guess he was serious about breaking up. I don't know what hurts more, knowing that, or my bruised and achy body. Still, if he's willing to see me, there's hope left. Isn't there? Or do you think I'm just holding on to a dream?
I'll find out soon enough, my wheel chair just arrived, I guess wherever I have to meet Luis at, is too far for me to get too with my walker. That's alright though, I'll enjoy the ride. Walking is for losers, at least what's what I've been telling myself for the past few days. That's what I've said about a lot of things in the past few days. Like walking to bathroom on my own, or showering without a nurse standing beside me. Normal things that I used to do just fine.
We enter the elevator and I shiver as the door closes. A chill had run the length of my spine, suddenly I have a really bad feeling about this. When the doors reopen, I realize exactly why I feel this way. We've just entered the ICU. Why in the H E double hockey sticks would we be entering the intensive care? Suddenly I'm moving again as my nurse gets behind and pushes me out of the elevator. Going over the bump rattles my hip and it hurts, but I don't cry out. The ICU just didn't seem like the place to complain about my own pain.
I'm rolled down the hall and as I pass more and more of the rooms and see their residence and thank god to be in as good of shape as I am. We finally stop in front of a room, there's a label on the door the reads 'LM'… Luis. Luis is in the ICU? I am pushed in and there he is. Battered, bruised, broken and bandaged.
For a second my breath hitches and I'm certain I'm going to faint. This can't be my Luis, he looks too small and pale laying motionless in his bed. His skin is almost as pallid as the sheets that hang limply over his still body. He's a surrounded by a million beeping and blinking machines, this is unbelievable.
"Oh Luis." I whisper rolling closer to the bed. "What's… what's wrong with him?"
My nurse picks up his chart and reads it over quickly. Her face is grave as she places a gentle hand on my shoulder. "He's not doing so well dear, not well at all."
That is obvious if he's was doing well, he wouldn't be lying there with his chocolate eyes closed, looking so lifeless and frail.
"But what's wrong wit him?" I repeat.
"I think it's best to just leave it at he's lucky to be alive."
"He'll be alright, won't he? People come on these sort of things all the time, right?"
The door opened and I moved my head to see a doctor entering with ad clipboard in the hand. "We're sorry, we just don't know." He says, he must have heard me.
'We're sorry!' 'We're sorry!' These are the medical professionals? For Christ's sake, if they don't know how does? Just tell me who does know, I'll ask them. He's a god damned doctor for crying out loud, what good is he?
"Is he going to die?" I gulp, swallowing the golf ball sized lump in my throat.
"So far we have him stable, but critical and unresponsive. I think it may do him some good to hear a familiar voice. Are you close?"
"Luis, is my savior." My voice is scarcely above a whisper. But it's true, he saved me from myself.
"I see, well then we'll give you s few minutes." The nurse and doctor retreated out of the room and I'm left alone with the shell of my former boyfriend and all the beeping machines. It's creepy.
His hands are so scraped and raw they practically resemble hamburger as I pick it up and tread my fingers though his. "Luis, it's TJ, I'm here. I wish I you could give me a sign that you're in there." I'm trying to remain calm and keep my emotions level but I just can't. I give in to my tears, resting my head on his barley rising chest.
"I'm so sorry, I should've pulled over when I so you following me, I should have never taken my car in the rain. This is all my fault." I sob knowing full well my tears are not going to help. Then the machines went crazy and the next thing I know I'm being pushed out in to the hall and the door is closed in front of me.
'Please, god, don't take him away.'
I'm going to see Luis today, at least that's what my nurse told me. It's been four days since I found myself in here and he still hasn't come to visit. I guess he was serious about breaking up. I don't know what hurts more, knowing that, or my bruised and achy body. Still, if he's willing to see me, there's hope left. Isn't there? Or do you think I'm just holding on to a dream?
I'll find out soon enough, my wheel chair just arrived, I guess wherever I have to meet Luis at, is too far for me to get too with my walker. That's alright though, I'll enjoy the ride. Walking is for losers, at least what's what I've been telling myself for the past few days. That's what I've said about a lot of things in the past few days. Like walking to bathroom on my own, or showering without a nurse standing beside me. Normal things that I used to do just fine.
We enter the elevator and I shiver as the door closes. A chill had run the length of my spine, suddenly I have a really bad feeling about this. When the doors reopen, I realize exactly why I feel this way. We've just entered the ICU. Why in the H E double hockey sticks would we be entering the intensive care? Suddenly I'm moving again as my nurse gets behind and pushes me out of the elevator. Going over the bump rattles my hip and it hurts, but I don't cry out. The ICU just didn't seem like the place to complain about my own pain.
I'm rolled down the hall and as I pass more and more of the rooms and see their residence and thank god to be in as good of shape as I am. We finally stop in front of a room, there's a label on the door the reads 'LM'… Luis. Luis is in the ICU? I am pushed in and there he is. Battered, bruised, broken and bandaged.
For a second my breath hitches and I'm certain I'm going to faint. This can't be my Luis, he looks too small and pale laying motionless in his bed. His skin is almost as pallid as the sheets that hang limply over his still body. He's a surrounded by a million beeping and blinking machines, this is unbelievable.
"Oh Luis." I whisper rolling closer to the bed. "What's… what's wrong with him?"
My nurse picks up his chart and reads it over quickly. Her face is grave as she places a gentle hand on my shoulder. "He's not doing so well dear, not well at all."
That is obvious if he's was doing well, he wouldn't be lying there with his chocolate eyes closed, looking so lifeless and frail.
"But what's wrong wit him?" I repeat.
"I think it's best to just leave it at he's lucky to be alive."
"He'll be alright, won't he? People come on these sort of things all the time, right?"
The door opened and I moved my head to see a doctor entering with ad clipboard in the hand. "We're sorry, we just don't know." He says, he must have heard me.
'We're sorry!' 'We're sorry!' These are the medical professionals? For Christ's sake, if they don't know how does? Just tell me who does know, I'll ask them. He's a god damned doctor for crying out loud, what good is he?
"Is he going to die?" I gulp, swallowing the golf ball sized lump in my throat.
"So far we have him stable, but critical and unresponsive. I think it may do him some good to hear a familiar voice. Are you close?"
"Luis, is my savior." My voice is scarcely above a whisper. But it's true, he saved me from myself.
"I see, well then we'll give you s few minutes." The nurse and doctor retreated out of the room and I'm left alone with the shell of my former boyfriend and all the beeping machines. It's creepy.
His hands are so scraped and raw they practically resemble hamburger as I pick it up and tread my fingers though his. "Luis, it's TJ, I'm here. I wish I you could give me a sign that you're in there." I'm trying to remain calm and keep my emotions level but I just can't. I give in to my tears, resting my head on his barley rising chest.
"I'm so sorry, I should've pulled over when I so you following me, I should have never taken my car in the rain. This is all my fault." I sob knowing full well my tears are not going to help. Then the machines went crazy and the next thing I know I'm being pushed out in to the hall and the door is closed in front of me.
'Please, god, don't take him away.'