Sam looked up from her laptop. She was just getting to the good part of her story, and she really needed to keep writing. She hoped the doctor wouldn't stay long.
"Hi...Sam. How are you feeling." He asked, approaching her tentatively.
"Not great," She shrugged and gave him a grudging smile, "I have my work cut out for me, though." She said, gesturing at the laptop. It rested on her lap, and typing put her head at a bad angle. She was starting to feel the pain, now, but she was determined to keep it together, at least until Dr. Kauffman left. She propped herself up a little more, and tried to adjust her pillows.
"Allow me," said Dr. Kauffman, adjusting her hospital bed for her. Sam hadn't always been a full time resident of Grace Lee Memorial Hospital, not until a few weeks ago, at least. Her heart had taken a turn for the worst. It had never been that great in the first place; she'd had several valves put in at age nine. They were supposed to replace her regular veins, because they weren't pumping enough blood...or something like that. No one had really taken the time to explain to her. Something had happened again, now, ten years later, on the eve of her 20th birthday.
Apparently she had collapsed one day at breakfast, though she didn't remember anything before waking up in the hospital. It was a horrible place to live; the air was always cold, and there were always various machines beeping away and making it hard to sleep. She sighed. The doctors had told her that something was wrong with one of the valves. Her heart rate was up, and only a steady drip from the IV kept it down in the normal range. Dr. Kauffman was here to tell her something, though. He never just walked in spontaneously. He wasn't a very spur of the moment man.
"We need to run another MRI, just too be sure that's the problem," He was saying, "and once we've confirmed it, we'll go in and fix you up." He finished with a smile.
"Does this mean I'm going to have to have another operation," Sam asked with a worried look on her face. She didn't like operations. Just one more scar, she thought sadly.
"Unfortunately, yes." Dr. Kauffman replied, pressing his lips together. "I know it's difficult, Sam, but we're doing everything we can to make it easier on you. On tuesday you'll go in for the MRI, and on thursday, if we get the green light, we'll do the, er, procedure. You'll close your eyes, and wake up here. It'll be over before you know it."
"That's great, Dr. Kauffman." She deadpanned. "Do you know if my family is coming to visit today?" This was a much more interesting topic. She'd wanted to talk to her sister; arrange some things with her.
"They haven't told me anything about today, but I'm pretty sure they'll swing by tomorrow morning to see you," he said with a smile.
Sam smiled back; it'd been a while since their last visit.
"Well, I'll leave you to it," Dr. Kauffman said, glancing at her computer.
"Yea, uh, thanks," She finished lamely. She was never sure what to say to Dr. Kauffman when he left. It was why she always dreaded him coming in. Not to mention the fact that he nearly always brought bad news. She'd welcome the day when the only thing he'd say was that she could go home.
Just a few more days, Sam," she told herself, "and then it will all be over." It was a shame about her family not coming today, she thought as she turned back to her work, she really missed them.
She hit enter on the keyboard to start a new line of dialogue. Blogging, and the stories she wrote, were a main part of keeping her hopes up in the hospital. It was a rather depressing place, she thought. Just a few more days.
Her writing was more important than ever now, she felt so dedicated to it, like she had a duty to herself and to her fans to keep going, but she was still trying to get over some writers block. "You're not going to write yourself, are you?" She asked the computer. "Yea, I thought not." She scribbled down a line, then deleted it. Nothing felt right anymore. Maybe it was the sudden tightness in her chest? Yes, it was definitely tighter than before.
"Nurse!" She took the deepest breath she could and yelled for help. Someone was there, trying to help her lie down, but it was all fading. Each breath was shallower than the last. "I'm scared," was her last thought before the blackness closed in on her, "what if I don't wake up?" Her question went unanswered.