The January Records

January 1st, [XXXX] 

 

  Ninth entry. My boss read some of my previous logs the other day and yelled at me about how off-topic and personal these logs have become. Said I needed to focus on being more general and less specifically about Ms. [XXXXX]. I can’t blame her; they’ve turned into something other than just patient records. I need a place to think, and I do my best thinking between ink on a page. Though for my boss’s sake, I will try to keep these more professional from here on out. 

 

  The father had let me know that he was going to be out of town at the turn of the new year. Something about a business trip he had to go on. He seemed worried and gave me his personal cell number in case anything goes wrong with Ms. [XXXXX]. Though a little out of protocol, I didn’t mind it. I think he trusts me at this point.  

 

  I decided to work late this evening, bringing my computer into Ms. [XXXXX]’s room to spend some time researching and keeping an eye on her. Besides, I knew she wouldn’t have any company for New Year’s 

(and neither would I), so I decided we could keep each other company. 

I had been reviewing her files more closely ever since my trip to [XXX XXXX]. I knew there was something I had been missing, and today I had found it.  

 

  She had already been in the coma before sustaining the head injury.  

   

  The person who found her had said that he had been jogging by the park she was found at and saw her hit her head on a large rock. Presumably, this is what caused her current state. However, the person reports that Ms. [XXXXX] seemed to fall limp before hitting the rock. It's not definitive proof, but enough to make me question just a little. Low blood sugar maybe? Uncommon for someone her age, but possible. Was it something else? 

 

  I watched as her eyes began to roll back and forth beneath her eyelids, a common occurrence for people in deep REM sleep. I’ve determined that that is what is happening to her, a deep and vivid dream state. Possibly lucid. Though I could do all the brain scans in the world and they would not tell me exactly what she was experiencing right now, what she was going through.  

 

  I had never wanted children, nor really had any desire to settle down, but sitting here and watching her, wondering, worrying, I know how her father felt. How he felt everyday coming here and going through the same, a hundred times worse than anything I could feel. For a brief second, I was envious of that, of that feeling. Of having someone worth caring that much about.  

   

  Ms. [XXXXX] suddenly twitched involuntarily, as if someone had shocked her mildly. I tensed, expecting a full epileptic attack, but she soon returned to normal as if nothing had happened. She mouthed a single incomprehensible word as a tear fell down her cheek. Ducts must be leaking. Instinctually I grabbed a nearby tissue and wiped it from her face.  

 

  I waited and watched until the clock struck midnight and wished [XXXXXXXX] a happy new year before packing up my computer and heading home. 

‚Äč

  I knew I had to do everything in my power to save her. For her and her father. Though what power I had, I didn’t know. 

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