Life
OH, FISH | The Girl Who Cried Fish Bone
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A nurse, dressed completely in navy-blue and gripping a clipboard, sprints down the hallway––in my direction, I assume. But my optimism proves short-lived, as she passes by my bed just as fast as I had gotten my hopes up. I roll my head back, eye the clock and then my dad, and let myself fall back onto the hospital cot. I should have kept my mouth shut. It’d been almost three hours since we arrived at the urgent care center, and I was more than ready to forget my incident and head home “untreated.” My parents, however, were far too determinedly overprotective and accustomed to long wait times to give in so easily, so we waited and waited among the others, weary and waiting, too.