The Waiting Game.
A week had passed since Renee had dragged her father through the halls of this Hospital in Oklahoma. A week where questions were dismissed and piled in the corner, and answers came few and far between. A week in which patients had come, and gone. Men and Women just like her father, even children. They had all been rushed through those doors, and wheeled out on gurney's; some only hours later. Renee had watched from the window of her fathers room, because that was all she could do; watch. With her forehead pressed against the glass, she watched the nurses and doctors run around like headless chickens, rushing from one room to another in a desperate attempt to do whatever they could. Which appeared to be very little. Whatever this disease was, it was a ruthless killer of both the strong and the weak, it didn't seem to mind who it claimed and nothing seemed to stop it, only hold it back for the time being.
Renee rubbed her eyes, looking up from the pages of her book as the words had begun to swim. It was the fifth book she had read this week, with nothing else to do but sit by her fathers bedside she found that she had an immense amount of free time, something she hadn't had in a long time. On the second day she had gone in search of something to read, finding an abandoned book on the nurses station, though the small novel had barely lasted a day before she was off in search of another. She had traded books with others in the ward, some where page turners and some were garbage, but they were enough to take her mind off the reality of the situation, if only for awhile.
The wards were starting to feel over crowd, the small wing of the hospital barely able to deal with the sudden influx of patients. There were 6 beds in this room of the ward, and there had only been one other patient that had been here as long as her father, his wife was snoozing in the chair beside his bed. He was younger than her father, probably in his late thirties. His wife had sparked up conversation on the third day and they had shared the stories of how they had come to be here for awhile, before her husband had awoken and called her away. The had spoken in hushed whispers for awhile, and then the wife had refused to even make eye contact. Everyone was scared and nobody was sure how the disease was spread. Everyone was being over-cautious. Even the Doctor's and nurses had taken to walking around wearing face masks, a sight that was no encouraging.
Rubbing her neck slightly Renee looked over to her father, he was pale and thin; thinner than even years of alcohol abuse had made him. The hospital gown he wore was too big, and he looked like he was drowning in the fabric and the blankets they had swathed him in to try and retain his body heat. Amongst all that fabric a small cross could be seen, lying delicately against her fathers chest. It had been years since her father had given up his position at the church, and it had been years since Renee had prayed, but as her hand clasped around her own necklace she found herself praying; and not for the first time this week. With her eyes closed, she reached out and clasped her father's hand with her free hand. She was mid prayer when she felt a presence at the end of her fathers bed, and her eyes snapped open. "Doctor..."
