Still shaking.

It's night.
I'm shaking.
It's a result of 6 hours of sleep in 48 hours, a hot pocket in 24, and a venti blended mocha in 3.
I can't help but think it's because of something else.
The nurse comes in changes out the IV, adds more medication, does an ultra-sound, records the amount of fluid that the tube vacuums from her lung.
They tell her things; me things.
Diluted hyrdro-cordrin.
Axenol
Prefix followed by morphine.
I can't process it.
She tells me to talk.
I can't think of anything of value to say.
So I talk about literature, history, my weak grasp of theology.
Word for Word class discussions.
It's the only things that are making sense right now to me.
They make no sense to her, in retrospect, but she listens anyway.
She falls asleep at about 3:30.
The room isn't quiet.
Her breathing is raspy; not the breathing I'm familiar with.
The machine applies air pressure to wraps on her legs.
It's to prevent blood clots.
It sounds like it's breathing for her.
There is a tube coming out of her side, vacuuming fluid from her lung.
Every minute it hisses.
Other things beep.
Each beep has a different pitch.
Lights on. Lights off.
Every hour. Every half-hour.
Nurse in, Nurse out.
I can't sleep.
I can't think.
I can't even cry.
It's the dead of night.
I text a friend under false pretense.
A failed attempt to try and stay the terrifying feeling of being alone.
It's the dead of night, the conversation doesn't last long.
Too much pride to call someone.
Desperation is unbecoming.
So I sit and I stare at the bed.
I'm still shaking.
I haven't showered since Monday afternoon.
I try not smell my clothes, myself.
The smell of a long car drive, sweat, greasy hair, and hospital.
She wakes up briefly. She's thirsty.
I get her a cup and she falls back asleep.
Functioning on Auto-pilot.
Pull out a book.
Read the same sentence until I finally realize it.
Put it away.
Stare.
Stare into the dark until light peeks through the blinds.
The floor looks like its on fire.
The sun has finally risen.
New Nurse.
I'm still shaking. I don't think it'll stop anytime soon.