"Are they talking about admitting her?" Megan asked, trying to keep the horror out of her voice. From their conversations the doctors hadn't thought hospitalization would be necessary and she could receive her chemo as an outpatient. If the emergency room doctors were considering hospitalization for anything other than dehydration and nausea, then Anya was not in good shape. If so, all the optimism and perky tones in the world wouldn't do her any good.
"I don't know," Bryan repeated, clearly frustrated. "I don't think the doctors know!"
"Okay, okay," Megan said, trying to calm Bryan down. "I'll be there soon. Let her know, okay?"
"Yeah," he said weakly and mumbled that he needed to go and he'd see her soon.
The phone clicked, signaling the call was disconnected and Megan had to fight the urge to put her head back and close her eyes as she merged onto the interstate. Thankfully the rush hour traffic was dissipating.
Minutes later Megan was maneuvering through downtown, silently cursing every red light. She had been able to see the hospital since she exited the interstate and was anxious to reach her destination.
Finally, the light turned and car in front of her rolled through the intersection. Megan made her right turn into the hospital parking garage and felt her pulse begin to race.
It wasn't fear of being too late, but the fear the unknown. Having just seen Anya earlier, Megan wasn't sure what kind of state her best friend was going to be in.
The parking garage was across the street from the hospital and Megan collected the ticket so she could proceed further into the underbelly of the garage and begin her hunt for a space.
Parking was a nightmare—almost as bad as the ones she had been suffering at night. She reached the third level before she found a parking spot in a distant corner of the garage. She quickly trotted to the elevator, waited for what felt like hours, and wrote it down to street level.
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