Before I’m Gone Read Online Heidi McLaughlin

Categories Genre: Chick Lit, Contemporary Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
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“Palmer, are you feeling any better?” The nurse picked up Palmer’s wrist and then stared at her watch. Was she supposed to answer when it was clear the nurse was counting? After the nurse set her wrist free, Palmer nodded. “I am.”

“Oh good, you’re talking. The medics who brought you in noted you were having trouble speaking, but you sound clear. Can you tell me what happened?”

Palmer shook her head and then said, “I remember eating lunch, but it upset my stomach. I was walking back to my office, maybe? That’s all I can recall.”

“Your speech sounds great, which all but rules out a stroke. It’s possible you have the flu, which could lead to fainting if you’re dehydrated. The doctor will be in shortly,” she said before she went behind the bed. “Can I get you something?”

“I’m a bit cold,” Palmer said.

“I’ll bring in a few more blankets. I put the call button on the side here in case you need anything. I’ll be right back.”

Everyone knew “be right back” in medical speak meant sometime in the next half hour. Hospitals were busy and their staff overworked. They all did their best to accommodate the emergencies as they came in.

Palmer lay on her side and watched the bag of saline drip into the tube. They were treating her for dehydration, but deep down, she knew something else was wrong. Ironic that Celine had suggested Palmer go to the emergency room to speed up her visit with the neurologist, and now she was there. When she saw the doctor, she was going to spill her guts and demand some sort of imagery testing. She could feel there was something wrong with her. By all accounts, the medicine her primary care physician had prescribed should’ve worked longer than the few weeks it had.

The nurse returned with two more blankets. She laid one on top of Palmer and then wrapped one around her shoulders. “Is there someone we should call?”

Palmer shook her head. “Thank you for the blankets.”

“Of course. Do you want some water?”

“I’m fine, but thanks.”

The nurse nodded, patted Palmer’s leg, and then checked her vitals once again. Before she left the room, she reminded Palmer to press the button if she needed anything or felt worse than she already did. Palmer said nothing and continued to stare at the machine hooked to her arm. The IV hurt, but not as bad as her pride was hurting. She worked hard to keep up the facade that she was okay, and to collapse or faint at work in front of her employees and customers was embarrassing.

She shifted her focus to the concrete walls. They were a yellowish color, undoubtedly white at some point, and if she stared hard enough, she could find chipped paint in the creases of the walls. Not far from the ceiling, the metal rod holding the curtain started and formed what looked like a half circle. Palmer wondered why the rod hadn’t been constructed to go straight across, instead of creating an odd-shaped space for privacy.

From what she could tell, there were four spaces or rooms. She wasn’t sure what the hospital called them. But the rooms were in one large space, each with its own wall of medical gadgets and cloth partitions. The bed diagonal from hers had someone in it, but the other two spaces were empty. Palmer was closest to the door, and if she flipped to her other side, she’d be able to see people walking up and down the hall, which also meant they’d see her. She didn’t want to see anyone.

Above, fluorescent lighting kept everything bright, which to her was a drawback, because she could see how dingy the wall color was. Plus, the lighting gave her a headache—well, made her existing one worse. She wanted her room to be dark and quiet, and the person sharing her room was now talking loudly on her phone. Palmer tried not to listen, but the boisterous and agitated voice echoed through the space, preventing her from hearing the one-sided conversation. Palmer deciphered that the other patient needed a prescription that no one wanted to refill or approve her for more.

Palmer finally turned toward the door when she heard a commotion. People in white coats ran down the hall, with one barking orders as they followed a stretcher and two paramedics. She wondered what had happened and guessed it was a car accident or a shooting. Both made her stomach turn. She hated hearing about all the trauma her beloved city experienced, and couldn’t imagine what those families went through.

The intercom sounded overhead, and the automated voice repeated, “Code blue.” More people ran past her room, and then she heard a scream. It was guttural and gut wrenching, and was followed by a string of “nos.” Palmer turned over to face the wall and pulled the blanket from her shoulders over her ear. She appreciated the calm it gave her.


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