Did I mention that I do not own anything?
Chapt.2 is up (yay), finals are killing me (yay) I have a goldfish that ignores me (yay).

Dr. Nolan was enjoying the quiet of an uncomplicated night-shift. Coffee in one hand, and a few charts in the other he slowly walked through the hospital halls towards his desk. He had a fruitful year of assistants and co's. So he needn't to juggle patient after patient while his minions were apologizing for letting charts disappear or adding too much, too little or the wrong medicine to a patient.

Sitting down at his desk he happily sighed. Perhaps he could fill out some forms and then take a quick nap. Maybe if he was lucky he… well, no such thing because his beeper started to ask for attention. Apparently quiet-time was over.

'What's the deal Janovic?' Dr. Nolan walked towards the room of Ms. Sachs while asking for an update.

'Sir there has been a mistake.' Great, a mistake, hopefully he hadn't given her anti-malaria pills. God knows that happened too many times with those chicken-doctors.

'What kind of mistake?'

'WellapparentlysomesocialnumbersreallylookalikeandIthinkthenurseswerereallytiredwhenfillingthisoutbutitjustcameinand-'

All the rambling was definitely not coherent but Dr. Nolan had the icky feeling this was not going to be good. He stopped walking. 'Slow down. Start again. Now. What is the problem?'

'The scans of Ms. Sachs have been swapped with the scans of Ms. Whiteaker.' Janovic was looking at him as if his balls would be half the normal size after Nolan had dealt with him.

'Meaning what?'

'That Ms. Sachs is having a severe cause of bronchitis… But is connected to a morphine drip because we thought she was dying.'

Andy woke up with the feeling of a double hangover. Nauseous, blurry, and a headache like she had just awoke from a 40 day journey through the desert. Which would not be completely impossible compared to the amount of thirst she felt.

'Welcome back Ms. Sachs. Please stay calm. We can imagine you're thirsty, that is a common side effect of morphine withdrawal. However, because of your lungs and the peculiar state of being that you're in it is unwise to drink anything. You are allowed to take a few ice-chips though.'

'What the fuck is happening?' She wanted to say. It sounded like an undefinable whisper of a Platyceratops.

'I am afraid we have some good news and some bad news.' Dr. Nolan said in his most empathic-yet-objective tone. An intern handed her a few chips of ice, which she gratefully sucked in. Instantly she felt better and worse. Her thirst being a bit relieved, but her chest cramped in pain. Fuck, the cancer was still killing her.

'Worse than dying?' She tried to say. It wasn't much of a better sound but apparently dr. Nolan had understood. A small grin appeared on his face.

'Well, if you phrase it like that, no. However, - and his face turned serious again- it is of importance that you understand what we have to tell you. Your lung scan results - those that absolutely confirm a diagnose which was in your case cancer- were accidentally mixed up at the lab with another patient. Due to your social security number that are highly alike the results got switched up. Therefore you've been diagnosed incorrectly.'

'Meaning what?'

'You have a severe case of Bronchitis, but are otherwise perfectly healthy, and cancer free.'

'I am… I'm… what?'

'Cancer free. Your bronchitis is severe, probably caused by high levels of stress and an unhealthy lifestyle, work I assume, which has common symptoms yet will disappear when treated with antibiotics. I will subscribe you the required dose, and some pills to help you with the withdrawal from the morphine. You see with the amount of morphine that we described because of… the more humane option that your diagnose required, the side effects of with -'

'I took that one out last night. I wanted to feel.'

'Alright. Well, then I will get the pills immediately and leave the word to Mr. Hamilton.' He smiled again. 'My sincere thanks for taking the news so well.' His smile changed into a tight uncomfortable one. 'We understand the heavy implications of such a… miscommunication. We will take care of everything you need in order to get you healthy and clean out of this hospital.'

Andy thought he was talking like a lobby boy from the Hilton. Then she thought: I am not dying.

I am not. Dying.

A scruffy young man in frumpled suit stepped away from the doctor. He clearly had been woken up maximum half an hour ago. 'Ms. Sachs, my name is Eugene Hamilton. I am here to talk about your peculiar case. Please note that it is …' His voice faded out while Andy pinched her wrist. It was not a dream. She was not dying. Letting her fingers flutter she felt her own pulse. A pulse that would continue to be there for another while. Way longer then she thought.

I am alive, she thought.

…. we have to inform you about the fact that you can may call a lawyer, however, we would like to advise to consider not taking the case to court. Often these cases end in a settlement but think of the time and money that it will take to….

I am alive. I can go. I can get better. Andy started to grin. It hurt, but it did hurt in the best way. The ultimate fucking good way. She was alive, and she better damn well know it!

…. Lack of funding within the hospital, therefore your claim can cost someone's health, so we encourage you to think of this with your most humane view-'

'Where are my parents? Where's Doug? And Lilly?' she screeched. Mr. Hamilton rose an eyebrow at being interrupted in his speech on whatever he was talking about. A polite but unmeant smile appeared on his face.

'Your relatives are in the hallway, currently being filled in on your situation by Doctor Nolan.'

That's good, Andy thought in relief. Knowing that they were still around was comforting. It added to her slow feeling of reality. She was going to be okay. She did not have to leave anyone, or anything yet. She would stick around for a while. Her body became heavy with the knowledge and her eyes started to flutter, tired of the emotionally heavy days that she had been through.

'I see that you're tired miss Sachs.'

Right, the man was still here.

'I'll put my card on your nightstand. Do not hesitate to contact me in order to talk about your prospects.'

She didn't think he meant the prospect of embracing anything i radius out of sheer thankfulness of life when she had the energy again. But she nodded gratefully, hoping that he would leave and she could talk to her parents and friends.

Which happened right after Hamilton left. Her mother overloading her with kisses, while crying 'oh my dear baby girl, you are going to be all right. You're going to be fine.' Her father also blinked away his tears, while Doug and Lily hurled together, waiting to hug her. She smiled and cried and laughed at the same time until a nurse came into the room to do some check-ups on her. It was then that her father hesitantly asked 'do you perhaps know who mixed up my daughters charts?' The nurse smiled apologetically.

'No sir, I am afraid not.'

'You see we thought she was dying and now-'

'Dad.' Andy interrupted him. 'Dad we can talk about this later. There is a card Mr. Hamilton left.' She pointed at her nightstand where the card lay, neatly next to…. Nothing. Her cards. They were gone. Where a small pile of letters had graced her nightstand was now empty space.'

'Where are my letters?!' She squeaked with a raspy voice.

'I just posted them.' The nurse smiled a broad smile, relieved that her father wasn't asking any more difficult questions. 'With my early rounds they were just in time for the mailman to take them with him. Don't worry, they're in good hands. She winked. He's been picking up and delivering mail since forever at the hospital. Probably they will arrive within two days.'

Andy's face paled.

'O god.'

'Are you alright darling? Perhaps you should sleep some more before you leave. Don't worry, I will make sure Dr. Nolan has signed the discharge papers this afternoon so you can go home and recover.' She smiled at Andy full of joy. 'You are one lucky girl.'