Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
I shake my head. “No.”
Speak of the devil, because a tall man wearing a white coat over blue scrubs walks in. “Hi, I’m Doctor Andrews.” He has a good bedside manner and makes a bit of small talk with me before he looks down at the chart in his hand. “We got your lab results back. Good news is there are no clots, and no heart attack. We’re going to run an echo to make sure your heart looks good. But other than that, your labs look great. All your levels are where they’re supposed to be.”
“So what do you think it is?” Greer asks him.
“Not sure yet. We’ll know more once we look at his heart.” He glances over at me. “They’ll be down soon to take you for the echo.”
“Thank you.” I lean back against the pillow, wishing for answers.
Once he’s gone, Dev and Chloe stay for another hour before heading home. Chloe was getting uncomfortable sitting in the chair, and I completely understood. I didn’t want anyone being here when they could go on with their own lives.
“You should get going too,” I say to Greer.
“I’m not leaving until you get that echo.”
Right as she says it a nurse walks in with a wheelchair. “We’re ready for your echocardiogram.”
Greer gives me a supportive smile and walks beside me as I’m wheeled to the imaging department. She makes the clinical atmosphere a bit more bearable. I’m taken into a room and lie on the examination table as the technician prepares the equipment. It takes about thirty minutes to complete the test and then I’m wheeled back to my room.
After another hour, Greer falls asleep in the chair next to my bed. I watch her sleep. The way her hair frames her face. The way her soft breathing lifts her chest up and down. She’s breathtaking and my eyes fill with unshed tears, thinking I may not live a full life to watch her grow older.
I shake my head, snapping myself out of these morbid thoughts.
“Knock, knock,” Doctor Andrews says, striding into the room. At the sound of his voice, Greer’s eyes open and she sits up straight in the chair. He stops at the foot of the bed. “The echo came back all clear and your heart is looking strong and steady. Everything’s looking good, and this is nothing more than anxiety and panic attacks.” He glances at Greer and then back at me. “Have you been feeling anxious lately?”
I shake my head. “I have nothing to be stressed or anxious about.” This sounds ridiculous. I have enough money to support myself without the need for work, so I live a pretty carefree life. Sure, the past couple of months with the Greedy Girl serial killer on the loose were stressful, but since we found the murderer, life has been fine.
“Anxiety?” Greer asks. “Can anxiety mimic a heart attack?”
Doctor Andrews nods. “A panic attack can mimic many things. Stroke, heart attack.” He turns his attention to me. “You can follow up with a psychiatrist who can get you some medication to help control your anxiety. We’ll get your discharge papers and get you out of here.”
I nod. “Thank you.” Is there really nothing more to it? I feel horrible. Last night at Dev’s house, I felt like I was literally going to die. Is that anxiety?
Greer texts everyone to let them know I’m leaving, and I get ready to go, still not convinced everything is okay. They checked my blood sugar and ran all types of tests, but maybe they missed something?
That question repeats in my head as I go through the discharge process. And then I push it away when we leave the hospital and Greer drives me back to her place.
“I want to sleep for hours,” I tell Greer as she follows me into her house.
“Okay, I’ll leave and let you rest.”
I feel my chest close in on me, and I remind myself that this is all anxiety and nothing more. “No, stay. Lie down with me until I fall asleep?” I hate that I have to ask her this. I hate that I can’t even fall asleep without feeling like I’m going to lose it. “I hate this feeling,” I tell her.
“What feeling is that?”
“Like there’s something seriously wrong with me. Like I’ve got some underlying health condition they didn’t find.”
Greer’s eyes soften, and she steps up to me. She wraps her arms around my waist and rests her head on my chest. “There’s nothing wrong with you. I’m sure of it.” She blinks up at me. “Let’s go lie down.”
I’m so tired that I wonder if I’ll even make it to her room, but I follow Greer down the hallway and head into the bathroom to change. It’s the middle of the day, but I can’t remember the last time I had a good night’s sleep. With how exhausted I feel, I’m hoping I sleep until tomorrow morning.