Rough hospital sheets rubbed against my skin. My foggy brain registered muffled voices coming from nearby and the sound of footsteps approaching my bed.
My new friend, Rita, ambled over, her shoes making a soft shuffling sound on the hospital floor. She smoothed the sheets on the bed. “Look who is awake. How are you feeling, Ally?”
I pried my eyes open and gazed around me: vitals machine beeping in sync with my heartbeat, a blue curtain surrounding the bed, a rolling bedside table with a glass of water on top. “Actually, I am doing a lot better.” I tried to keep the pain from showing in my voice.
I lifted my hand, fingertips dabbing the back of my sore head. “Ouch.” Hard little pieces of dried blood remained glued to individual strands of hair.
“Oh, no dear. Don’t touch it.” Rita cluc
