It's been a couple of weeks since I was hospitalized. I've been told that Lisa's been here every day right after school lets out. Dr. Welington says that I've been in and out of consciousness, but I can't remember anything. Right now, I'm running a fever. That's not good. My homework is piling up on my bedside table, and the rug is barely started. Whenever I'm awake, I'm too disoriented to work on anything. Most of the time, I'm sleeping. The doctors and nurses put so many different drugs in me, I'm sure I wouldn't be legal to drive, even if I did have my license.
Since I've woken up from my deep sleep, a ton of changes have been occurring in my room. Everything from people garbing up (the nasty blue plastic robes and masks that cover your entire body) to a crash cart (in case my heart stops). It's a bit freaky to think that my heart could just stop, but I guess it's just to be on the safe side. Like my dad always says, it's better to be safe than sorry. I only hope that they don't need to use it.
Another week has passed. Most of the time, I was told, that I was unconscious. My fever has been running even higher, and the doctors thought it was necessary to move me to the Intensive Care Unit. It's a lot different here than from the rest of the hospital. Everything is white and spotless. Sometimes, I think that I'm dreaming when I'm awake, and sometimes I think that I'm awake when I'm dreaming. My arms and legs are beginning to retain fluids. The beautiful swan is once again an ugly duckling.