"I didn't mean to. . .I sort of get nervous around needles," I said, nervous as my slightly dry yet hoarse voice broke through so lowly, making me sort of pull the crisp sheet up a bit with the tips of my left hand. It sounded so strange and sort of thicker than usual, maybe it had everything to do with my uncomfortably dry throat or maybe the heavy feeling which had sunk into my stomach as soon as the nurse walked in those pale shrubs carrying that tray, maybe it was being there period.
"It's okay," she said, finishing up cleaning the little cut I had slightly decorated because of the abrupt pull of the tube which had been taped against my arm, with that needle stuffed deep into my vein. I guess it was the reason that much blood had slowly begun to come out.
I was so embarrassed and hearing the nurse tell me it was okay sort of made it worse.
I wanted to leave those bleached blue walls.
The nurse was patient while I was left no choice but to brace myself for the needle, which she stuffed into my vein quite carefully. The stench which I was sure every hospital smelled of came in quite strongly, I simply offered her a sorry smile while she continued finishing up wrapping the medical tape right over the thin tube, keeping it in place whilst I stared at it.
I offered the nurse one last smile before she left, feeling terrible for having her re-tape that thing against my arm, which must have been at the orders of the doctor, and even clean the tear which I had caused.
I also didn't want them to start thinking I was crazy or perhaps harmful to myself, I didn't want any pills.
I could handle myself.
I had fainted with stress and I was aware of that. I was sure the doctor thought more of my significantly low blood levels, hence why I had to stay for a couple more hours for all those liquid vitamins to help my body, for my blood levels to steady. For my body to perhaps have enough energy for me to be able to leave that hospital without being wheeled out of there, therefore I had to stay until all those vitamins swam right into my bloodstream–until my body got enough to feel better.
I sort of wished I hadn't fainted, that would make things better more than hoping nothing serious was to come back from those results, that I wasn't going to be put on some medication again.
I was sure the results were going to give the doctor enough leverage, especially with my health history.
I however hated pills, the taste, and the smell, all of it made me feel sicker than anything. I guess I hated the memories of the ones I had to take, every day–twice every evening. Maybe I sort of still had the memory of them drilled to my head, hanging quite close to every thought. I could barely deal with the thought of having to take a bottle and open it, let alone of having to swallow a pill.
I couldn't do it, I doubted I was to be able to take pills.
Those tests had to come back with nothing, I didn't want to sit around in the doctor's office and have to listen to him go on about how these pills were so necessary for my health, what they were to do for me.
I didn't want to know just what was wrong with me, the last time I had sat before a doctor they had practically declared me insane and gave me a bunch of pills saying I needed them to get better, to deal with the 'trauma'. I wasn't going there again, there was no post anything in me and my low blood pressure must have been from my slipping breakfast that morning, nothing more.
I didn't want to think of anything further as I stared down at the fresh tape on my arm.
My sister had been quiet for a while, it sort of was disturbing in its way–just as the crisp whiteness which clung to half of this room. I hated the pale blue that blended in with it, making the whole place seem even cooler than it already was, even depressing. I didn't get hospitals, no wonder some people just got worse by being there even if they were perfectly fine, there was this dauntingly somber tone to hospitals, this feeling of sorrow which sort of brought out my pangs to the surface–it wasn't fair.
I wasn't going to change my mind about pills, no matter what my sister, or anyone else for that matter, was to say about it.
I hated pills and that was that, period.
I was never going to get over that whiff that hit me whenever I opened a pill bottle, it was always going to remind me of the ones my doctor had given me an okay to stop taking–of the reason why I had even started taking them in the first place.
This time they would have to tie me, and not threaten me about it, to get me to take any type of medication and I wasn't going to be sorry.
I was just not going to go there, simple as that.
"Who thought of taking me to a private hospital? Do you know how expensive a day costs here? I –"
"It's taken care of."
I lifted my left brow at my sister who seemed so calm, despite knowing just how difficult I am about handouts. I sort of wanted to scream right at that very hospital, I just didn't want her to wear that concerned look so heavily in her eyes, I no longer wanted to be the subject of their pity and sighs like this.
I wanted to not be treated as if I was as fragile as glass, it had to stop.
They had to stop.
The bitterly bright and sharp light within the room sort of made her pale brown skin seems sort of balanced as if she had somehow lost a significant amount of blood just by witnessing me sitting there–as if I had ripped a deep cut tight inside her and left it to bleed.
I didn't get it, I didn't get my whole family.
I was fine, I had survived and I was no longer in dire need of others to take care of me, I could do it by myself, and well enough–I was okay.
I just didn't like them treating me as if I wasn't, I was fine. I had dealt with it in my way, it was all behind me and I wasn't going to dwell on it. The healthy thing to do was to accept this, after all, I was sure, the healthiest thing for one to do in these sort of situations was to admit it–I had.
I could say it even, I could part my lips and say it.
I could say...I had lost 'it'. There. I was fine with the ache, it no longer bothered me that much and I had accepted it just as well, I was never really meant for it, a family.
I was fine with this, so they needed to be too.
If I was to move on they had to as well, I was sure.
However, I had my sister to deal with.
I sighed, fairly.
Even though I wanted to reassure her that I was good, I couldn't help myself–I went to it.
"What do you mean by that?" I arched my brow tight, arching a bit forward as my body sort of felt a bit less sore.
I couldn't help the cold however, the hospitals were a bit uncomfortably cold for me–they were never going to stop being so.
"When you fainted a. . ." she trailed off, slightly twisting her head in the direction of the door, right where the soft knock came from.
I guess I had expected a doctor, hence why my body had sort of tensed up.
I was wrong.
By the door, slightly peeking stood a lady with a sweet pair of dark eyes, and even sweeter light twinkling quite blissfully inside her irises as a trail of long wavy hair fell around her oval face generously, capturing the slimness of her little nose.
I was sure I was opposite this, so I sat up straight.
I couldn't help it, I reached for my hair.
"Is it okay if I come in?" her voice was soft, just as her eyes.
"Sure." My sister brushed her bob behind her ear.
"You've woken up, sorry you didn't get to meet me earlier. I had go and answer. . .but are you okay?" Her brows suddenly furrowed as she jumped to the last bit.
"She's fine, the doctor says she needs to rest." My sister brushed that bob of hers behind her ear again.
I sat there with a dry mouth, not knowing what to say.
The lady swept her lusciously long dark brown hair to the side. "It must be the stress, I also get like this when I'm overworking."
"It is. My sister worries about everything." My sister held my hand, smiling at the lady who was probably my age, if not younger.
Her hands were small, so ladylike, and slightly chubby, fitting for her.
Her eyes met mine. "Feeling better?"