Remembering

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Celia's door slowly opened, it was John, a boy that was in a couple of her classes.
John looked a little nervous, it's not really normal for a guy that Celia barley knew to just enter in her room, but the girl looked like he could honestly use a friend.
"Hey Celia" John said softly "I don't know if you know me...but my name is John...I go to your class."
His voice was gentle as well as the color of his hazel eyes.
"Mind if I sit?" He asked smiling
 
She shook her head with a small smile and scooted over on the bed, watching him casually. He seemed familiar. They didn't talk a lot though. She was pretty sure he was in her chemistry trig, and English class. Yeah, she knew who he was, though he was just an associate.
 
"So how have you been?" He asked "people in class have been wondering if you were okay...I know better than to worry though because I know your a strong girl" he said sweetly
 
Charles had had enough.
He knew they were her parents as soon as they leapt at his once they had seen him.
He knew what they wanted. They knew what he had.
He let them have it.
''So, you're the parents I presume. First off, yes, this is my name and not a nickname given to me due to malpractice.
Secondly, leave now. I'm serious. I will let you know when we know something but it looks like you've been here a while. Go home and relax. Your worrying does nothing here except get in my way.
Speaking of which, if you'll excuse me...''
He moved past them and towards his office. He was going to need some equipment for this one. Probably a lock for the parents too.
 
"Um.. I'm okay.. I think. I was just at a soccer game." The remembrance of her family slowly came back to her, but she still had other memories forgotten. "I think maybe my parents took me home and I went to sleep. I don't..." she squinted as her eyebrows furrowed, her hand going yo her temple as a headache began to reveal itself, followed by nausea. "Know why I'm here..."

Celia brought her knees to her chest and put her head down to rest it, taking deep breaths so she didn't vomit.

----

Celia's mother and father watched doctor Death walk away with wide and slightly offended eyes. They knew he was trying to put them at ease, but something about his tone of voice, or maybe his words, made them feel differently.

C's mom sniffed and wiped her eyes as she looked around. "Where's our son?" "I'm right here." He replied softly, for he was walking with Dr. Death the whole way.

"Alright, you heard him. Let's go home. We can come back tomorrow." The father said gently as they began to leave the building, not noticing the boy in the room with her.
 
"Don't strain yourself" John smiled then looked at the clock, visiting hours were definitely over.
"I should go" he smiled "I will visit you soon" the boy then left.
 
Celia blinked as the door closed behind him. He was attractive, really attractive. And he was nice too. If he was in some of her classes, which she did recall he was, why didn't they talk more?

As she shifted in the bed, coming out of her ball, she realized she still had her soccer clothes on, and her caramel colored hair was in a ponytail that was by now loose and close to coming out. Though her shoes and socks were off, which was good. She wished she to change into more clean clothes- ones that hadn't been on the ground and in sweat. Celia would probably have to change into a gown anyway.

It was getting late. The clock near her hospital bed read 10:35PM. It was then the girl realized her headache had gone away, though nonetheless she still felt ill. Slowly, C slid her legs off the bed and slightly hopped off, taking one step before the room began spinning around her. Her dizziness was strong enough to make her stumble and fall to her knees. At least then the room had calmed down, but Celia's puking didn't help the matter.
 
John was told by some doctors that she would be fine within a couple of days, in the meantime he didn't know what to tell the rest of the students at school.
When he arrived home he got the earful from his mother, that is until he explained what happened.
"Oh, that poor child" Johns mother Beatrice began "I think I will make her some brownies...and you buy her some flowers...and not the crappy ones in the hospital gift shop, I mean from my rose garden."
Helping this girl was definitely a big deal to Johns mom, she usually hated it when anyone picked flowers from her garden.
"Get some sleep for now, I know that your worrying about the girl, she will be fine now that she's in the care of professionals."
John nodded before walking to his room and plopped on his bed. Pulling the covers over him, he prayed that Celia would be all right before closing his eyes.
 
Two minutes passed of straight puking, and she was able to breathe again. C took in a deep and shallow breath, followed by gripping the bed tightly to support her standing up. That helped her to sit on the edge of the bed, where she looked at her vomit in disgust. She needed to clean out her mouth too. Ew.

Celia thought for a moment. She could attempt to clean it herself. But considering she couldn't stand for a second to even go get the supplies, that would be a horrid attempt. So she thought again, carefully scooting to the other side of the bed where she pushed a small red button, which informed her nurses and doctors she needed help. There was another one like it near the door, but that was for the doctors', nurses', and visitors' use.
 
Dr.Death was asleep when the pager went.
He had decided that, for this case, he should lighten up for the poor girl, and so he slept.
But now he had been forced out of his dreams and into his office. Supplies lay scattered on his desk.
He sat up, yawned and checked his breath.
...tic tak.
He picked a few from his pocket supply and in they went.
He was ready.
Out came the morphine drip from his arm.
God that was nice.
***
He pushes open the door and he is greeted by the stench of vomit. The girl, Celia is in bed.
''Why hello, I'm Dr.Death. Yes, it's my real name. Who are you?''
A little routine to make the patients more comfortable, otherwise it's rather daunting to have someone come in and tell you everything about you.
He quickly looked down at the chart.
Age: _____
Humm....would she be sexually active?
He then realised what he was thinking and stopped. The morphine coursed through his veins as he waited for a reply.
 
"Um... I threw up..." Celia mumbled quietly, in a daze from her concussion and lack of oxygen from her nonstop puking. She expected him to clean it up; he was one of her doctors, right? Or were there special people for that? It was then her mind slowly processed his question.

"I'm.. uh.. I'm Celia.." her voice trailed off before she could get to her last name. She rubbed her eyes, sighing softly.
 
He nodded and then stared at the puke.
''Ahh, a flan lover as well are we?''
Again, his mind realised what it was doing and he promptly leant out the door and screamed.
''A nurse should be here any moment now. So, how are you feeling today? Feel like puking more or are we done for now? These shoes are swayed so, you know, give me some warning.''
***
The scream was heard. The nurses all raised their heads at the sound and, as if by command, they took flight on sneakers as the white as wings of especially dirty swans. Upon arrival they could smell the puke. Off they went, again, to get the cleaning material, unaware that those waiting in the ER had just seen a flock of nurses sprint in one direction only to turn tail a few seconds later and sprint back.
Those who could leave left, those who could not despaired.
 
"I think I'm okay now.." she muttered, watching him with tired eyes. She blinked slowly as she scooted back on her bed and slowly laid down. "I'm tired..." she said in a daze, closing her eyes. Excessive sleep and lack of sleep were two symptoms of a concussion. Apparently she had the first one.
 
....ok then.
Charles left the room and returned to his morphine drip, eager to get back to his buzzed sleep.
***
The nurses were swift in their cleaning. Within minutes the sick was gone and now the smell of varnish filled the room.
The returned to their posts, ready for their next assignment.
 
Celia was to awake again at 12:41AM. The room was dark and cold, like every hospital room overnight. She noticed she was now in a hospital gown, which made her grimace at the thought of people changing her while she was asleep. But she still had her bra and panties on her body, so in a way, it made her less uncomfortable.

C grabbed the remote beside her bed and turned on the TV, laying back while watching it after finding something decent on. So far, she'd been doing almost everything you're not supposed to do while you have a concussion. Thinking, watching TV, straining herself, getting up, etc. Though she didn't know any of this. Actually, she hadn't even been informed herself yet of her own condition.
 
Dr.Death decided that it was time to check in on her. Some of the nurses had been brainstorming possible conditions and so they told him it was either a concussion or...nah, it wouldn't be the other thing.
So, lets see is sleeping beauty is awake.
Wait, beauty?
BAD CHARLES!!!
Again, out came the drip from his arm and he put his clothes back on, drank a cup of coffee powder and went to check on his only patient.
He began to sing as he walked.
''My anaconda don't,
my anaconda don't,
my anaconda (etc)''.
 
(Your posts make me laugh x) )

A few nurses walking by in a group looked over and stared for a few seconds, then whipped their head around and continued on their way. Others walking by, such as patients, more nurses, doctors, and other employees, would look and giggle as they passed.
 
Charles arrived Celias room.
How should I deal with this?
He thought for a moment.
She probably just wants to know what was wrong and how long she'd be in here, so why not lead witht hat and then a quick Q and A.
He walked into the room.
''Mrs. Celia, you have a concussion. We're going to keep you here with me for a while. I have morphine if you're in pain or TV if your not. My advice is to not do anything for as long as you can. Except breathing, keep doing that. And maybe thinking, we don't want you going brain dead now do we?''
He laughed.
He saw she wasn't laughing and so he decided it was one of those times when you need to compensate for the lack of laughter with more laughter. A minute of laughter passed before he finally shut up.
''Yes...any questions?''

(Also, I aim to please ;) )
 
Celia didn't nod, but instead answered with more questions. "What? I have a concussion? Can I still play soccer? And how long is a while? What about school and my soccer games?" She asked. She was half dazed still, and still sleepy, but she had some alertness in her voice. By now her hair had fallen out her ponytail, and her hair somehow laid neatly over her shoulders.
 
''Oh dear, you mustn't exhaust yourself dear. Lie back, relax. If you do you will probably get to play soccer again. As for everything else, I don't know.
Great huh.
Tests are being done as we speak. So, I guess at some point I'll be able to answer most of those questions of yours you little...minx you...yeah.''
He went to leave.
As he reached the door he turned to face her.
''Anything else?''
 
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