Chapter 60: Chapter 60
"Mark?" I stammer out while turning my head to look at him.
"Alyanna, you have to make sure that you get enough rest. It is currently two o'clock in the morning." Mark utters these words while setting his book down to the side.
"I just can't shut my brain off. It is imperative that I convey the following information to you." I say blinking slowly.
The question is, "What is it?" He requests that you move in a little bit closer.
"I had a dream about Maya being in this place," the narrator said. When I make an effort to swallow, however, it causes more discomfort than it solves. It had been ten years since I had from high school, and my wife and I were taking our four children with us to attend the reunion. I smile.
"Really? Were Milly and Landon two of the names that you were considering?" He inquires while straining his eyes slightly to the sides.
"Yeah, and the other two were a set of twins by the names of Kara and Kyle," she replied. I pause for a moment before asking, "Are you fond of those names?" He asks while placing my abnormally small hand in his normally sized one and wearing gloves.
"Yeah," I nod. "They are wonderful to me in every way. Camden, the child that Abby and Charlie had together, was somewhere between the ages of four and five at this point. I have absolutely no recollection of it." I make an effort to put on a smile.
We have some ideas about when they will most likely have another child based on our observations. He jokes. The events that occurred after then are mostly a blur to me. I'm willing to wager that when I slept off, Mark did the same thing almost immediately after me.
The following morning at precisely 10:52, a group of medical professionals and nurses entered my room wearing face masks and some sort of jacket. They were getting me ready for the transplant that I was going to receive. They made sure I was awake for it by giving me medication that would assist with staying awake for it.
After waiting an hour, they came back to check on me and see how I was doing. They remove the IV from the patient, replace it with a new one, and then they leave the room. They check on me at the top of the hour on the hour to ensure that I'm doing okay. Mark never leaves. It appears as though he is having a difficult time sitting in that chair. Even though he has a cot over by the wall, he insisted on sitting next to me instead, which makes it difficult for the physicians to move about the room.
It's been roughly twelve hours since the last time I went to sleep, and it's already eleven o'clock at night. Around 11 hours using my new cells. I don't notice a difference. I still haven't recovered from my illness, and I'm far too thin.
After three days, I'm starting to feel better, and I've noticed that my complexion is improving as well. Mark stated that, but I'm not entirely certain that I accept what he said. According to the experts, my newly formed cells are successfully fusing with my pre-existing ones.
It's been five days since the transplant, but I've finally managed to get up and moving. I am able to walk now because of the assistance of Maya, as well as Mark and a nurse. Only Maya accompanied me into the bathroom, and I was able to make it all the way to the toilet. Even though I'm taking in a lot of food, people often comment on how thin I am. After a while, I was able to get my appetite back. I am no longer restricted to drinking only liquids and can now consume solid foods.
One complete week, seven full days, 168 hours, 10,080 minutes, 604,800 seconds, plus all the other possible combinations of waiting for that long. The day after tomorrow, I have to travel back home. When that time comes, it will have been eight days since it started. I've been growing antsy. I don't need somebody to accompany me when I go to the bathroom. Sometimes Mark will be able to take the mask off for a few minutes, and at such times I will be able to see him genuinely smiling rather than having to speculate as to whether or not he is.
Day eight. No more disguises; now that I'm walking around without them, more of my true self is emerging. To add insult to injury, I'll be leaving here soon. "Are you well prepared?" Once Mark is settling in for the night, he has a question.
"Yes. Very." I smile. "I should be able to make it through the movies without falling asleep now."
"You still need sleep." The next step, according to Mark, is to get up and continue packing. It shouldn't be more than a minute before the attending physician arrives to release me.
"Even if it's late, I have to report to work tomorrow." Mark makes his way over to the entrance in order to place the bag in the area close to it.
That's not a problem at all. I shrug. "Please give me Sophie," I responded. She is going to be sleeping in the guest bedroom while she is here with Mark and I. At the very least, it looks like she's going to be for the next seven days. I told her that I would assist her with all of her schoolwork, and now she has all she needs. Hannah encouraged that I do so, and she said that doing so would be an excellent opportunity for me to get experience in preparation for the day when I will be teaching art. It can't be denied that she's correct. She has experience and knowledge that much surpass her years.
After waiting for another five minutes, the attending physician finally arrives and discusses what should be done. Take it easy, get plenty of rest, make sure you eat enough, and do everything else that's been recommended. The routine is so familiar to me that all I do is nod my head without truly paying attention to what's being said. I hold my breath as I wait for the word I'm looking forward to hearing.
You are free to leave at any time you choose. He says this while casting a quick glance at the clipboard, then gazing at Mark, and then returning his attention to me with a grin. After that, he leaves, but a little time later he returns with a wheelchair.
After the doctor has left, I find myself giving an eye-rolling expression. "Are you going to force me to sit on this chair, or are you going to let me get up?" I inquire of Mark, despite the fact that I am already aware of the response.
"Yep." He tells me that he placed the luggage on the back of the chair before going over to assist me in standing up. Now that I've built up enough strength, I can roll my eyes, but I still go ahead and shake his hands anyhow. He wraps one arm around my waist and supports the majority of my weight, which is still very little, with his other arm.
After taking me to the elevator in his wheelchair, he takes me down to the lobby of the building. As I arrive, Sophie is there to greet me. "How much longer do you anticipate being kept waiting?" I ask her.
"Not long, and why are you worrying about me when you're the one who's coming out of the hospital?" "Not long," she replied. "Why do you care about me?" She inquires as she keeps pace with me and walks alongside me.
"Because she's a decent human being," you might say. Mark says, kissing my head. I give another one of those eye-rolling expressions while maintaining my smile.
When the truck comes around the bend, Mark offers his assistance in getting me into the front seat, and Sophie offers to load the luggage in the back of the truck before getting in herself. After getting back to the apartment, we watched a movie there before going to bed. Around the time we reach the halfway point, Mark gets up and starts getting ready for work.
"You had better at least be asleep when I get home," the homeowner warned his son. He asks me this while planting a kiss on top of my head and then walking towards the entrance.
The answer to that question is dependent on when you will be back at your house. With a grin on my face, I ask the question.
"Goodbye Alyanna. You, Soph, are in command of this situation." He jokes. We both had a good laugh, and I can't help but nod my head.
"Got it." Once the door closes, she flashes a cheerful expression as she makes her way to the couch carrying her homework. I put the movie back in the player and check on Sophie every so often to see if she requires assistance before returning my attention to the screen. "If I ever find myself in need of assistance, you may count on me to let you know." She was successful in getting me.
"Sorry." I recommend getting up and going to the kitchen to get something to eat.
When did the physician tell you that you should be recovered from your illness? When I walked into the kitchen, Sophie asked if we might follow her.
"We are now in the last days of February and the first few days of March." I propose popping some corn in the microwave by putting a bag in there. "But, there is no guarantee that this will be effective." I tell her, in an attempt to raise her expectations beyond what are reasonable.
I am aware of this, yet..." Her presence dwindles away. "I have just recently become acquainted with you. Please don't go anywhere because I don't want to lose you." The words came out of her mouth as she was on the verge of crying.
"Sophie." I recommend walking over to her and giving her a hug when you do so. "I won't betray your trust," she said.
"It's obvious that you're not aware of that." When she says this, she is clutching me even more tightly.
"I don't know if I'll ever leave you physically, but you can count on the fact that I'll always be by your side." I'm trying to get away from her, she says. The answer is "Right here." I am pointing to her chest where her heart is.
She nods her head and says with a smile, "I know." I give her a reassuring smile in return and draw her in for one more hug.
"Well... I've been told that someone's birthday is coming up soon. " In my opinion, this should not be the topic of discussion.
It sounds like she is laughing. "Yes, you can count on me to be here for it," the speaker responded.
"I know." I give a jovial grin before returning to the couch with the bowl of popcorn in my hand. "What are your intentions for the evening?"
"I can't really comment on that. You're going to start feeling better soon, so-" I didn't continue talking to her.
"We are not doing nothing, on the contrary. You, Mark, and I will discuss this matter." I say not taking no for an answer.
"I have no idea what course of action I wish to take." A shrug may be seen on her shoulder.
"Well, you have a little bit of time to think about it," the speaker said. I soothe her as we return our attention to the film and begin to munch on the popcorn.