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I understand, but it would’ve been nice to see her at least once, even if we didn’t get a chance to do anything. I should’ve asked for her number when she was here. Oh well.Today is a bittersweet day. I’m driving Claire to the airport. Her winter break is over and she’s already heading back to school for the new semester. I think she had a good time being home, but I know she’s anxious to get back to her friends and new life back East. I can already see she’s a little more mature than when she left the first time. As a father, that brings me such joy. My little girl is growing up, step by step.I ran through a few different emotions in my head as we drove on the 405 to LAX. Sad to see Claire leave but happy to know that she is adjusting well to college. However, my mind kept floating back to Alex and whether or not I’d see her again. I didn’t know when she was going back to school, and I couldn’t really ask Claire about it because I didn’t want her to get suspicious. She’s a little. I missed the beeping and blipping of the equipment I had been used to. I wasn't hooked up to a big computerized device that could monitor everything. Seeing the two of them, I tried to say something, but it just came out as a groan."He's awake!" I heard Dad say."Oh Sammy!" Mom cried, trying to rush over. Dad actually grabbed her arm and held her back."Helen stop!" he cried. "Broken ribs, remember?" Broken ribs?" I gargled. Dad walked over to the door and called "He's awake!" through it.A man in a white jacket and a stethoscope came to stand beside and over me. A white clad nurse came to stand on the other side. She began taking my pulse, holding my wrist and staring at the watch on her wrist. The doctor held a little penlight up to my eyes, moving it around, and began generally poking and prodding."Sam, I'm Doctor Garrison. How are you feeling?" Broken ribs?" I repeated."Yes son, and a concussion. You've got a dislocated shoulder as well, although that went back into place pretty.
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