The Lasaran (Aldebarian Alliance #1) - Dianne Duvall Page 0,13
they don’t have an international calling plan. But we left several messages, so I’m sure they’ll contact you as soon as they return.”
Would Brad’s parents really leave the country when their grandbaby was so close to being born? Particularly when, according to the nurse, doctors had had a difficult time keeping her from losing the baby during her coma?
“Then I’ll email them.”
“Oh, we can’t let you use a hospital computer. If anyone found out, there would be lawsuits accusing us of putting other patients’ privacy and confidentiality at risk.”
“I wouldn’t do anything other than access my email account and send Brad’s parents”—whoever they were—“a quick message.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t let you near a hospital computer. It’s against the rules.”
“What about your cell phone? I can email them and message them from that.”
She shook her head. “That’s against the rules, too. I’m not even allowed to bring a cell phone into a patient’s room. It’s meant to protect patients’ privacy.”
“But I’m giving you permission.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t afford to risk my job. Would you lie down for a moment, please?”
Lisa returned to the bed and reclined against the pillows.
The nurse used the stethoscope to listen to the baby’s heartbeat, then smoothed her hands across Lisa’s big belly, applying pressure here and there. “Any problems beyond the cramps?”
“No.”
“No spotting or bleeding?”
“None.”
“Okay.” She pulled the covers up over Lisa’s legs, then drew the tray closer and uncovered it.
“Can I be moved to a room with a window?” Lisa asked.
The nurse shook her head. “The medication we administered during your coma has left you very sensitive to sunlight.”
Lisa frowned. “My eyes?”
She shook her head. “Your skin. You’ll sunburn too easily. Any exposure at all and you’ll start to pinken. But don’t worry. It won’t last. Any and all side effects from the medication should wear off in a month or two.”
“I’d still like a window.” So I can see for myself where the hell I am. “I can keep the shades or curtains closed during the day and only open them at night.”
“I’m sorry. We live in such a litigious society now that we have to play it safe. It’s just for a little while though.”
“Can I leave my room and walk up and down the hallway? I could really use the exercise.”
Again the nurse shook her head. “Your immune system has been weakened by the coma. We don’t want to expose you to any germs fellow patients or their visitors might carry. Certainly not while you’re having such a difficult time with your pregnancy.” She motioned to the unappealing meal on the tray. “Try to eat as much as you can. You need to rebuild your strength.” She left without another word, closing the door behind her.
And Lisa knew if she checked it, the door would be locked. That merely heightened her suspicion and concern. The first time she’d gotten out of bed by herself, she had grown tired of waiting for the nurse to return but hadn’t found any call buttons the way there had been in her mother’s hospital rooms. So she had tried to open the door, intending to venture out and ask the nearest hospital employee some questions, and found it locked.
The next time the nurse had come, Lisa had demanded to know why the door was locked.
“Well, I didn’t want to tell you this, honey,” the nurse had said with yet another of those false smiles, “but you’re in the psych ward. When you found out your husband died in the accident, you tried to kill yourself.”
With a baby in my belly? I don’t think so.
Lisa knew herself better than that. If she had actually fallen in love with Brad and married him, she wouldn’t try to kill herself and their child when he died. She would instead do everything she could to keep their baby safe. To safeguard the part of him he had left with her. And even if there hadn’t been a baby, no matter how grief stricken she had been, committing suicide would not have occurred to her. She knew loss. She had survived it twice. She could survive it again.
“That’s why you were in a coma. Not because of the accident that took your husband’s life. But because grief drove you to try to take your own. That’s also the real reason you can’t have access to a cell phone. Too many people become enraged or are overwhelmed with despair as a result of texts or voice mails. And we want you to