Chapter 33 - The Hospital Room Again
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The stark white walls and the sharp, chemical smell of the hospital corridor triggered a violent wave of nausea. I had spent too many hours in these sterile hallways, waiting for terrible news that altered the course of my entire life.
I paced the waiting room for four agonizing hours while my father underwent emergency surgery to repair his shattered hip.
Finally, a tired-looking orthopedic surgeon walked through the double doors.
“Ms. Ellery?” he asked.
“Yes. How is my father?” I demanded, stepping forward.
“The surgery was successful,” the doctor offered a reassuring, tired smile. “We put a pin in the hip. His heart is strong, and he handled the anesthesia well. However, at his age, the recovery process is going to be incredibly slow and highly demanding. He is going to need significant physical therapy and round-the-clock care for the next few months.”
When I was finally allowed into his recovery room, my father was awake, though heavily groggy from the painkillers. He looked incredibly small in the standard hospital bed, stripped of his usual sharp suits and commanding presence.
“I hate hospitals,” my father grumbled weakly as I sat in the plastic chair beside him.
“They aren't my favorite place either, Dad,” I smiled, taking his hand.
Over the next few days, our roles completely reversed. The man who had fiercely advocated for me during the darkest moments of my life was now entirely dependent on my advocacy. I used my absolute best 'clinic director' voice to politely but firmly manage the nurses, coordinate his pain medication schedules, and aggressively demand the best physical therapist on staff.
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“You are terrifying when you are organizing a medical chart, Nora,” my father chuckled weakly one afternoon, watching me argue with an insurance representative on the phone.
“I learned from the best judge in the state,” I replied, winking at him. “You just focus on healing. I will handle the rest.”
