"And you'll need to take care of the incision site..."

Doctor Fadel's going over at-home care instructions that I need to follow now that I'm getting released today, but yet again, I'm not listening. I can't.

It's been a week since my heart transplant. I can thankfully sit up on my own, despite a bit of struggle; I don't have any infection or high blood pressure; no blood clots have happened or any signs of kidney issues; the pain in my upper-body is manageable with pain meds; the new heart is operating fine according to millions of blood tests and echocardiograms and ECG's I was still subjected too afterwards; hell, I actually feel like a new person, like something inside me seems 'up-to-date'.

But, I'm still heavy. I don't know how to explain it, and I've already tried to several times to Doctor Fadel and Nurse Jarvis. Every time I sit or stand up, it's like gravity's pushing against me, or grabbing me from behind trying to keep me down, and I end up moving moving in permanent slow motion.

No one understands whenever I bring it up, and the confused looks they give me always make me want to take a sledgehammer to those godawful white walls everywhere.

They say the heart is working well, but I'm not so sure. What if death is actually right around the corner, warning me of its arrival. What if-

"Suzie?" Doctor Fadel's voice rings out, tugging me back. My cheeks get warm feeling eyes cornering me. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I lie.

"Are you listening?" dad asks me in a quiet voice. Luckily he's been here with me too taking mental notes of what Doctor Fadel's explaining. I don't think I've heard a single word of the actual care instructions.

"Yeah," I lie.

I absentmindedly glance at Doctor Fadel, my stale brown ones accidentally catching his mystical grey ones, and something about them says he isn't convinced by me. Yet a smile sneaks into the open anyway, and he switches his line of sight to my dad as he goes on.

"And one more thing, she'll need to stay away from crowds. You can't be in areas where you'll surrounded by people-"

"Wait, what?" I question. I've been sitting cross-legged on the examination bed, but I can't help but uncross my legs now. The white parchment paper beneath me cries out. "Why?"

"You're still quite vulnerable to infections, and you never know what a person's carrying these days," Doctor Fadel says. "Best to steer clear of being around too any people, just for a few weeks-"

"Weeks?" I make to stand from the bed, but quickly abort that move. The heaviness is turning me into a human seesaw. "What the fuck-"

"Suzie!" dad barks. He's got his stern parent face on: teeth bared, eyes wide and drastic, thick brows drawing towards each other as if they'll form a conjoined furry road. Despite how he looks now, Doctor Fadel actually doesn't seem all that bothered by my cursing.

Still, I relent. "Okay sorry about my language, but, couldn't I just keep my distance? There's a game in two weeks at Reamirora High, and I can't miss it."

"Game? May I ask what's being played?" Doctor Fadel asks.

"Volleyball. It's Magnolia's — that's my school, by the way — it's their last chance to get a spot in the championships, which is happening in June.

"Oh, I see. So you play volleyball, Suzie?"

"No." I mentally cringe at how defensive that came out, like regularly doing anything that involves athletic ability is the last thing I'd ever do, which isn't the case at all. "I'm on the dance team. We go to every game, to support them, rally the school, that sort of thing. I've already missed three games. If I'm not there next week, and Magnolia doesn't win, it'll be a tragedy."

"Sue, not to downplay your talent, but I hardly think that your absence on the squad will cause the loss of a volleyball game," my dad interjects, and I make sure he sees me roll my eyes. Before scowling at him I glance at Doctor Fadel again, quickly, and for a moment I thought I saw him smothering an amused grin.

"I mean, this could potentially be the last game of the year overall. No other sport except volleyball's been going on the last couple of months so if our team loses the next match I'll have to wait until next school year when basketball or soccer starts up again if I wanna dance."

That accidentally came out in one breath, even though I don't currently have the lung capacity to do so, and the consequence of it is hitting me now. Literally. It's like the oxygen just vanished from inside me, and my body's losing balance like I'm about to topple over onto the floor.

Just as I lean a little too forward on the bed, someone's hand is on my shoulder, keeping me up straight. Oxygen's materialized inside me again, and through the minor tears pooling in my eyes I gaze up at a wavy buzz-cut and a five o'clock beard with a bushy soul patch.

"Just take it easy, Sue," dad whispers gently to me. "You know you can dance whenever you want, right? Maybe not right now obviously, but when you're better."

It was clumsy and sluggish, but I managed to shake off my dad's hand from my shoulder. Or, more like a gave my shoulder as vigorous a shake as I could, and dad took the hint and stepped back.

"It's not the same dancing alone as it is with other people," I say, all my earlier defensiveness and exasperation evaporated. Probably disappeared too when all the oxygen in me seemingly did before, and then didn't come back with it. "And I'm not waiting anymore. I haven't danced in a month."

"Well I don't think you'll be able to dance much anyhow with the hemovac at your side," Doctor Fadel adds.

Ugh. He has a point. One week after surgery and my chest still needs to be drained. It's not particularly bothering me at the moment, but I angrily shift the pouch a bit which is holding the damn device around my waist. Doctor Fadel says to give it another week at least for all that ickiness in me to be emptied out.

"So what about school?" I raise. "I'd definitely be surrounded by crowds, like, while I'm in class or something." Doctor Fadel nods, a quiet hum echoing from him as he considers the dilemma. If I can't dance, then no way am I going to school either.

Dad apparently doesn't need any time to mull over the situation, because he already has a solution readied. "I've been talking to a few of your teachers over the month, and we've worked out a plan for you to get your schoolwork done at home."

"Of course you have." I roll my eyes again, though not so blatantly this time.

"Perfect!" Doctor Fadel beams. "You'll have everything you need right in the comfort of your home while you recover." Just as he stands from a swivel chair, Nurse Jarvis enters the room with several white paper bags clutched in both her hands.

She's got on a dark blue polo scrub today, and it has violet horizontal lines over the chest pocket this time, with a neon pink and a neon orange ballpoint pen sticking out of it. I silently approve of the embellished outfit.

"Okay, you're all set!" She's across the room in a second, methodically handing over the bags to my dad. "So you've got immunosuppressants in here, an antibiotic in here, painkillers in that one — we decided we'll give you two for now, then blood thinning medication in there, also something for any stomach irritation you might have, and something to keep that cholesterol low. Oh, and the spirometer is in this one. There, that should be everything. Do you need me to go over anything, Suzie? Medication schedule? Breathing steps?"

"No," I say as politely as I can manage to those benevolent green eyes studying me.

I have at least six medications prescribed and Nurse Jarvis has explained in exhausting detail the purpose and time to take each one, at least four separate occasions over two days. Part of me is really glad that yesterday was my last day sleeping at this damn hospital, though I'll still miss the impromptu dance breaks she and I had every now and then.

"Alright, Suzie, I know you're tired of me nagging about medication schedules and how to breathe, so I'll take your word for it," Nurse Jarvis quips as she comes closer to give me a hug that I return as fast as my arms can move. "I'll miss you too..." She whispers beside my ear.

Wait...What? How did she know that? Any of that?

Before I can question her, she's pulling away from me and a surprised look overtakes her face.

"Oh! I forgot to pickup the schedule for your next appointment from Glenda. I'll go see if she's printed it out yet. Meet you all at the elevators!"

Then she was out the door like a puff of wind, and I caught a glimpse of her jogging down the hall before she vanished.

"That's right!" Doctor Fadel suddenly says, louder than anything else he's ever said to me before. "Keep that schedule in a place you'll remember to check it, Suzie. It's important to come in for your next few appointments — we can't reschedule them. And also remember to let me know — that means call me directly, you have my number remember — and let me know if anything's wrong that the medication isn't fixing."

It was a couple days ago that Doctor Fadel informed me and my dad that he was transferring to this hospital permanently, so he'd be overseeing my road to recovery, as well as further monitoring of my new heart afterwards, himself. He hadn't given any explanation on why, so I'd assume that since he had other heart transplants patients in the past, that he'd probably stuck around to monitor them too, then eventually left whenever another potential patient came his way.

I nod slowly at Doctor Fadel. He seems a bit more serious now as he starts towards me and offers a hand.

Even slower, I reach out my arm and clasp his open palm right as dad says, "will do, Doc. Thanks." I'm realizing now that I never received Doctor Fadel's personal number, but apparently my dad did at some point. Well whatever. Probably for the best to have a direct line to the guy anyway.

"Let's go check on Glenda and Nurse Jarvis," Doctor Fadel goes on. While dad is juggling the paper bags filled of medications, the Doctor's volunteered himself as my human walking cane while we stroll, profoundly slower, to the door.

My eyes wander up to him while we traverse, dad way ahead of us, when a myriad of goosebumps streak across the skin on both my arms. The oxygen in me becomes brittle like it's about to vacate itself again, but it's only for a moment because that's also how long I witnessed it before it faded it out.

His eyes. Doctor Fadel's mystical grey eyes. I think...they were glowing just now.