Faeyt had been living in the hospital for going on three months. Sometime in October she had been found by her father, early in the morning — and she was not breathing. Her lips and skin were starting to turn blue, and she was breathing very shallowly. The man had rushed her to the emergency room, only for her to be taken away without a word.
Faeyt Chord was admitted two hours after being brought in — they diagnosed with a pulmonary edema — which meant that she had caused her lungs to fill with fluid. They informed her father of the diagnosis and as they had prior dealings with young Miss Chord, they informed him that the symptoms had probably been showing for quite a while — up to as far back as a month before the edema became an issue. They were swift to reassure him that he was not at fault — for their diagnosis also led to the belief that her seizures had caused the edema.
Within four to five hours later, Faeyt was on an oxygen machine in a medically induced coma. They had warned that there could be brain damage — and as a precaution they had placed her in a coma in hopes of being able to re-oxygenate her body without harming her, as 100% oxygen could hard the person in question rather than help them.
She was in that coma from October until November, when her doctor attempted to medically bring her out of the coma — only for her not to wake. Then, sometime in early December, the little girl woke from her coma, and struggled against her breathing tube. A nurse had quickly removed the tube — because if she was struggling, she was trying to breathe on her own — and helped her sit up.
The little girl had stared silently upward, and reached for the woman to cling to her — she would have begun crying if the nurse had not been the usual nurse who treated her, or screaming — if her mouth was not so parched. The little girl was thin, her muscles weakened but not useless, from disuse.
Her father was summoned upon her wakening. The child was swaddled and sitting in a wheelchair with one of the various stuffed toys her father had brought for her, in her lap. The small girl had been scooped up and promptly coddled by her father that night — well into the next morning when the man summoned the woman that Faeyt called 'mommy'.
She was to stay in the hospital for a week after waking, but that changed when she had a grand-mal seizure during physical therapy. She was then to stay until they figured out medication to control her seizures, as the seizures had caused her to stop breathing in the first place.
But today, December 30th, 2015... Today was the day. Faeyt still had to attend physical therapy, but they had figured a cocktail of medications out that would help control her seizures — even if it were to lessen them and not stop them completely.
She was being wheeled by a nurse to say goodbye to all of the other long-term patients, giggling as she was hugged and kissed and given keep-sakes by each person. Eventually they wheeled to the nurses' station, where Faeyt was sat up on the desk and left to chat with the receptionist while they awaited her father.
"Are you excited to go back to school, Fae?" The nurse inquired, as she checked the child's blanket — "Excited! Excited! School be fun." She bobbed her head happily as she signed. She was still dressed in her hospital gown — hopefully her father remembered to bring her some warm clothes. "Did you get to talk to him on the phone last night?" The child twisted around to stare at the nurse and began to sign: "Daddy cannot talk." The woman chuckled. "Well, did you at least Skype him?" They had set up a laptop for the child to Skype her family on, seeing as 'talk' was not the right word to use for the rag-tag family — as far as the nurses knew, both of her parents signed and so did she; though it had been a recent development; Faeyt's signing, so they still forgot she preferred it over talking.
Faeyt nodded to that, "Daddy said he has to work today. What if he forgot?" She inquired, staring up at the nurse with wide eyes. The nurse simply shook her head and moved Faeyt slightly — "How about you help me work on my paperwork, hm?" She offered the child some crayons and a coloring page. She was lucky, because the little girl took the idea.
Whenever Sai arrived, he would find his little daughter sprawled out on top of the receptionists' rather large desk, with a blanket over her, dressed in a hospital gown with a diaper (for as much as she hated wearing diapers, they had put her in one for her stay in the hospital — especially until she could walk without the crutches they had given her) on.
@Sashi
Faeyt Chord was admitted two hours after being brought in — they diagnosed with a pulmonary edema — which meant that she had caused her lungs to fill with fluid. They informed her father of the diagnosis and as they had prior dealings with young Miss Chord, they informed him that the symptoms had probably been showing for quite a while — up to as far back as a month before the edema became an issue. They were swift to reassure him that he was not at fault — for their diagnosis also led to the belief that her seizures had caused the edema.
Within four to five hours later, Faeyt was on an oxygen machine in a medically induced coma. They had warned that there could be brain damage — and as a precaution they had placed her in a coma in hopes of being able to re-oxygenate her body without harming her, as 100% oxygen could hard the person in question rather than help them.
She was in that coma from October until November, when her doctor attempted to medically bring her out of the coma — only for her not to wake. Then, sometime in early December, the little girl woke from her coma, and struggled against her breathing tube. A nurse had quickly removed the tube — because if she was struggling, she was trying to breathe on her own — and helped her sit up.
The little girl had stared silently upward, and reached for the woman to cling to her — she would have begun crying if the nurse had not been the usual nurse who treated her, or screaming — if her mouth was not so parched. The little girl was thin, her muscles weakened but not useless, from disuse.
Her father was summoned upon her wakening. The child was swaddled and sitting in a wheelchair with one of the various stuffed toys her father had brought for her, in her lap. The small girl had been scooped up and promptly coddled by her father that night — well into the next morning when the man summoned the woman that Faeyt called 'mommy'.
She was to stay in the hospital for a week after waking, but that changed when she had a grand-mal seizure during physical therapy. She was then to stay until they figured out medication to control her seizures, as the seizures had caused her to stop breathing in the first place.
But today, December 30th, 2015... Today was the day. Faeyt still had to attend physical therapy, but they had figured a cocktail of medications out that would help control her seizures — even if it were to lessen them and not stop them completely.
She was being wheeled by a nurse to say goodbye to all of the other long-term patients, giggling as she was hugged and kissed and given keep-sakes by each person. Eventually they wheeled to the nurses' station, where Faeyt was sat up on the desk and left to chat with the receptionist while they awaited her father.
"Are you excited to go back to school, Fae?" The nurse inquired, as she checked the child's blanket — "Excited! Excited! School be fun." She bobbed her head happily as she signed. She was still dressed in her hospital gown — hopefully her father remembered to bring her some warm clothes. "Did you get to talk to him on the phone last night?" The child twisted around to stare at the nurse and began to sign: "Daddy cannot talk." The woman chuckled. "Well, did you at least Skype him?" They had set up a laptop for the child to Skype her family on, seeing as 'talk' was not the right word to use for the rag-tag family — as far as the nurses knew, both of her parents signed and so did she; though it had been a recent development; Faeyt's signing, so they still forgot she preferred it over talking.
Faeyt nodded to that, "Daddy said he has to work today. What if he forgot?" She inquired, staring up at the nurse with wide eyes. The nurse simply shook her head and moved Faeyt slightly — "How about you help me work on my paperwork, hm?" She offered the child some crayons and a coloring page. She was lucky, because the little girl took the idea.
Whenever Sai arrived, he would find his little daughter sprawled out on top of the receptionists' rather large desk, with a blanket over her, dressed in a hospital gown with a diaper (for as much as she hated wearing diapers, they had put her in one for her stay in the hospital — especially until she could walk without the crutches they had given her) on.
@Sashi
