3. Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Find a Friend
Violet awoke to a nurse putting a blood pressure cuff on her arm. She felt groggy and tired. Her head throbbed. She eyed the dimly lit room and then promptly drifted back into a deep sleep.
When she next awoke, the morning light shone through the drawn-back curtains of the hospital room window. It felt like a slice of heaven streaking its warmth through the sterilization of the room. Violet let her eyes close again as she took a mental inventory of her situation.
A dull ache was still present in her head. Thoughts of the day before peppered her mind. She distinctly remembered not remembering. It sent a chill down her spine.
“Oh my God.” Her eyes snapped open, her voice a barely audible whisper. Bursts of memory started to go off in her head like a succession of fireworks. In her mind’s eye, she could see her Airbnb. Sitting on the edge of the bed. The worn dark green carpet with the small gold diamond patterning. Putting on her blue runners. Going to the bathroom sink. The white tiles and the one with a chip to the left of the sink. Gulping down water.
Events of the day before were percolating in her mind. It was a slow trickle, one memory at a time, but indeed, she was remembering. Relief washed over her, and she couldn’t help but try and recall every detail of the day before.
“Good morning, Violet.” A clean-cut man with salt-and-pepper hair walked into the room.
Violet looked at him, and with surprisingly little effort, she remembered him.
“You’re the doctor,” she stated.
“Aye, Dr. Campbell. Yer memory is returning?” he asked, studying her from under bushy dark brows.
“Yes, it all seems to be coming back to me. Am I okay? I mean, will I be okay?”
“Aye, I’d say the prognosis is good.” He smiled reassuringly. “You hit your head rather hard, but fortunately, all the scans were normal.” He came over to stand beside the bed. “May I?” he asked before lifting her hair away from her forehead. He pressed gently but firmly around her bruised head.
Violet winced, feeling a stab.
“Ye have bruising that will likely get worse before it gets better, but I’m pleased that the swelling has already improved substantially. You’re very lucky,” he said, stepping back. “Any nausea?”
“No, just a bit of a headache.” She gestured to her bruised head.
“And you said your memories are coming back?”
“Yes, in a flurry. It’s so odd. It’s like they didn’t exist at all—but now they're coming back to me, ultra vivid.”
The doctor nodded as he scribbled some notes, presumably on her chart. “Ye’ve suffered a concussion and with it some post-traumatic amnesia.”
Violet’s eyes went wide.
“Nothin’ to worry about,” he assured her. “Ye are remembering now, and that is a very good sign. Ye should make a full recovery in no time.”
She let out a sigh of relief. “Does that mean I can go home then?” She looked at him hopefully, knotting her fingers in the starchy bedsheet.
“Aye, I think ye are well enough to leave. However, I would like someone to stay with you for the next twenty-four hours. Ye shouldnae be alone.”
Not the news Violet wanted to hear. She’d only just arrived in Scotland and didn’t know anyone. Who could she get to stay with her? She bit her lip worriedly. “Why do I need someone with me? My memories are coming back, and I feel way better.”
“Aye, and that’s excellent." Dr. Campbell slid his pen into his chest pocket. "However, with a concussion, complications can sometimes arise a day or two later. It is best if someone is with ye to keep an eye out.”
“Well, if something happens, I can just come back here.”
He seemed resolute, but Violet wasn't going to give up so easily.
Dr. Campbell smiled kindly at her, his jowls lifting, “It's important, Violet. It is rare, but seizures can occur after a bang to the head like yers. Usually, if they are going to occur, it happens at night. Ye were fine last night, but either ye stay here another night or ye promise me to have someone stay the night to watch ye,” he said, with a finality that she couldn’t argue with.
With Violet’s promise, Dr. Campbell signed her release papers and told her she was free to go but that she should take it easy over the next day or two.
After such an ordeal, Violet couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital and into the fresh highland air. She felt weak, and her head ached. But she also felt almost a new lease on life, kind of feel. It certainly fortified her belief to live every moment to the fullest.
Now the only problem was who was she going to get to stay with her. The lady she was renting the Airbnb from was offsite, and they hadn’t even met in person. She considered texting her, though. In their interactions to date, she seemed nice and easygoing. Violet crossed her arms over her chest, realizing that she didn’t feel comfortable asking her Airbnb lady to come babysit her. Maybe she could find an all-night café or something. She bit her lip. Oh, this was maddening.
When she wasn’t racking her brain trying to think of who she could get to stay with her, Violet’s memories were still flooding her mind. She walked over to the wardrobe in her room and opened the door. Her black stretch running capris and bright peach tank hung neatly on wire hangers. Her black underwear was draped carefully over a third hanger, and her black sports bra hung on a fourth. Slowly, she recalled the nurse telling her the night before, Lassie, I’ve hung your clothes up in the airing cupboard. They’re a wee bit damp.
Violet reached up and touched her bra. Dry. She pulled it down and got dressed, silently thanking the thoughtful nurse. She was so happy she was okay and getting out of the hospital that she didn’t even care that she had to put her dried-up, sweaty jogging clothes back on. Getting dressed knocked the stuffing right out of her.
As she pulled her hair up into a messy bun and plonked herself back on the bed, she closed her eyes and took some deep breaths. She needed a few minutes to recover. The knock at the door made her jump, and when she opened her eyes, there he was.