The phone call part 5

I was amazed how busy the hospital was.

The automatic doors revealed a massive open atrium that was easily 5 stories high and bustling with people on every level. It seemed like they were everywhere. Each one of them appeared to be looking at me like they knew exactly what had happened, yet I was still so confused and unclear about everything. I immediately felt small and insignificant among all of the people in that expansive hospital which continued to grow as we walked through the many hallways towards her.

Sarah quickly explained a few more details as we zig- zagged the corridors. She had given birth and was still being monitored in the recovery area after what I was being told was an extremely sudden, complicated, and painful child birth for both of them. The baby, a boy, was breathing and in stable condition in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU), but born very prematurely. How prematurely? They weren't exactly sure yet. Was everything okay? They weren't exactly sure yet.

I took a deep breath before I opened the door to the room she had been waiting in. As I turned the handle, I realized this was another door with a completely unknown future waiting for me on the other side.

She was laying on a bed with a nurse checking her vitals. There were tubes and wires connected to her in several places, tethred to numerous hanging bags of clear liquids. Her hair was entangled in a big mess that started as a nest at the top of her head and and stretched out as far as it could reach in all directions, like she had stuck her finger in a power outlet. She sat up and her hair remained the same shape, completely erect, not budging an inch. I could tell she was exhausted, and high. She was very, very, high.

Oh, Hey! Thanks for coming

She was trying to play it cool, but I could hear it in her unfamiliar voice, reminiscent of an obviously guilty teenager. She was also terrified. We both were.

As I entered the room to greet her, I put my back pack down on the floor against the wall beneath the window. When the bottom of the bag made contact with the tile floor, the unmistakably recognizable sound of beer bottles clinking against one another echoed throughout the entire room.

My heart immediately stopped.

Instantly I realized what had happened. When I locked myself in the store and couldn't leave, I asked my roommate to pack my bag for me in an attempt to save us time getting to London. I told him where the bag was, that my room was unlocked and that he could,

Grab anything you think I'm going to need to get through this.

Those were my exact words to him.

I continued to tell him that my clean laundry was in a basket on the floor beside my mini fridge. The fridge that was waiting for me to get home with half a case of cold beer inside of it. This was entirely my fault. He was younger and only being a thoughtful roommate and friend, grabbing what he assumed would be a few congratulatory beer for me. How was I going to explain this?

My eyes shot to the nurse, who uncontrollably blurted out

What the fuck?