Night Watch

6:00 pm. July 22. Cardiovascular ICU.
I don't like being in this place.
It's so cold here. My hands are numb.
I closely monitor the screen that checks his ecg and bp rating. Everything is normal.
His breathing heavy and deep. He must be extremely tired, he only had jello and bland soup for dinner.
He slowly drifts back to sleep. I wonder what he's thinking right now or what he dreams about. It must be scary lying there so vulnerable and helpless. It hurts watching him like this.

6:30 pm
Nothing.
He's still asleep. Sound asleep. He has his mouth now open.

7:00 pm
The nurse comes in and startles him. He is now awake while she's checking the machines and tubes attached to him. At last she leaves.

7:30 pm
We quietly stare at the tv as he kept switching channels between Nickelodeon and Cartoon Network. He can't decide what to watch: talking cows or the kid that can bend air. I'd catch him shutting his eyes once in awhile. Then, he asks me to fix the yellow blanket. He's feeling cold.

8:00 pm
He falls asleep. I stand up from my seat again and switch off the t.v.
I kiss him on the forehead.
Goodnight, dee dee.