But after a time, much like the novelty of any new toy, the staff slowly ceased their all-too-frequent visits, leaving him to recover in peace between cannula meals. At first, these times passed superbly with frequent naps to recover his energy. Sleepiness eventually faded, however, and he found he could not will himself to slumber any longer. Once Isaiah tried exercise, considering the exorbitant calories they pumped into his body involuntarily, and was nigh immediately set upon after he encountered complications. A thorough lecture and begrudging agreement staved off restraints - he would not pursue further physical activity and try to remain prone to avoid further damaging the burns.
Unfortunately, this meant total boredom.
The room itself offered no enjoyment. A nondescript, frankly ugly watercolor of flowers hung on the wall above him, which he found was a terrible choice - was it meant for the nurses to ogle upon entry instead of their beleaguered patient? Beyond that, a mostly bare nightstand sat to his right with an old corded telephone, a door sat opposite him for the water closet, and an empty bed to the right indicated a recent discharge. They spoke of moving someone to his room occasionally, but the future occupant still remained in surgery even hours later. Otherwise, bland beige walls and bland white speckled tile and bland blinds meant that Isaiah had nothing to occupy a demanding mind.
Isaiah considered texting many people, tried to choose between who he would text, and ultimately ended up texting everyone to drop by at their leisure. This occurred around 6:00 PM, shortly after the dinner intubation. Spirits were low, and company might provide a pleasant boost not otherwise covered by morphine.
To his glee, a knock sounded and he sat up dizzily. Calling to his visitor, he issued a sedated "come in" while he anticipated the identity of this friend.
Felyn
hope this works!
