Если я останусь

           Oneoftheotherpatients,onewhowassoswaddledingauzeandbandagesthatIcouldn’tseeifhe/shewasamanorwoman,isgone.Inhis/herplaceisawomanwhoseneckisimmobilizedinoneofthosecollarthings.

           Asforme,I’moffmyventilatornow.IrememberthesocialworkertellingmygrandparentsandAuntDianethatthiswasapositivestep.IstoptocheckifIfeelanydifferent,butIdon’tfeelanything,notphysicallyanyhow.Ihaven’tsinceIwasinthecarthismorning,listeningtoBeethoven’sCelloSonatano.3.NowthatI’mbreathingonmyown,mywallofmachinesbleepsfarless,soIgetfewervisitsfromthenurses.NurseRamirez,theonewiththenails,looksoveratmeeverynowandagain,butshe’sbusywiththenewguywiththehalfface.

           "Holycrud.IsthatBrookeVega?"IhearsomeoneaskinatotallyfakeydramaticvoicefromoutsidetheICU’sautomaticdoors.I’veneverheardanyofAdam’sfriendstalksoPG-13before.It’stheirsanitizedhospitalversionof"holyf**kingshit."

           "YoumeanBrookeVegaofBikini?BrookeVegawhowasonthecoverofSpinmagazinelastmonth?Hereinthisveryhospital?"Thistimeit’sKimtalking.Shesoundslikeasix-year-oldrecitinglinesfromaschoolplayaboutthefoodgroups:Youmeanyou’resupposedtoeatfiveservingsoffruitandvegetablesaday?

           "Yeah,that’sright,"saysBrooke’sraspyvoice."I’mheretooffersomerock-and-rollsuccortoallthepeopleofPortland."