The cold, brightly-lit hallways smelled distinctly of disinfectant and hand sanitizer. I nearly gagged. Even though I’ve had my fair share of hospitals, the intense smell always makes me stagger a bit. This was probably the fourth hospital visit this week, and honestly, I was getting damn near sick of it. I was having a hard enough time keeping up with school work and having to see somebody that may not even notice my presence wasn’t helping in the least.
“Is everything okay, Ma’am?” I looked up to see a nurse in scrubs decorated with Christmas trees.
I put a fake smile onto my lips. “Yes, of course,” I lied.
“Do you need any assistance finding a room?” A nurse that likes to hover, I see.
“No, no. I know where I’m headed,” I assured the woman. She gave me skeptical look, but moved on with whatever she had to do. I didn’t go to her room, I just wandered the overly clean halls. I had quite a few other nurses ask if I was okay, each a little more skeptical than the last.
I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket to check the time. 5:16. Visiting hours would be done in nearly fifteen minutes. Sighing, I slid my phone back into my pocket and made my way back to room 202 on floor five. I kept my eyes on my feet the entire way there. I really didn’t want to go, but I knew that I had to.
Soon, I found myself face-to-face with room 202. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door a crack. Peeking my head in, I saw my grandmother sitting on the edge of a hospital chair, her head bowed and a rosary in her hands. I slid into the room as quietly as possible, doing my best to not disturb her prayers. Even though I may not believe in God, I respected others’ beliefs. I sat down in the chair adjacent to hers, my elbows on my knees and my head rested on my hands.
Grandma turned to look at me, her face a mixture of surprise and relief. She looked awful. “Have you been sleeping here?” I ask, feeling only slightly worried. It’s not one of the craziest things she’s ever done.
Grandma nodded and said, “It really is nice to see you here, Emma. I’m sure your mother would appreciate it.” I nod, feeling a little uncomfortable. It always has been weird with her. I found myself slowly looking up to my mom, taking in her unbrushed hair, her yellow skin, and the tubes seemingly sticking out of every open area of flesh.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?” I turned to my grandmother, noting the questioning look on her face. Looking away, I shook my head.
She eventually did leave. For what? I never asked. I sat there in silence, listening to the beeping of the machines and the occasional clanking of medical carts that went by outside the room. I found myself tapping my foot to an unknown beat. I lifted my gaze from my hands and to the scenery outside. I blink back the sudden tears that threaten to spill. I let out a shaky sigh, feeling as if I should say something. Get some closure.
Taking a deep breath, I walk over to the side of the bed and grab my mother’s hand. I knew I could only manage a few words, so I say the only thing that comes to mind. “I love you.”