Despite my hasty retreat to the restroom, it was already too late. Upon emerging, I was struck by an overwhelming dizziness and promptly lost consciousness.
I'm unsure how long I was out, but when I came to, I was drenched in a cold sweat.
Mom was waiting by my side. I struggled to sit up, frantically asking, "Mom, you're here! Where's Delia?"
My mother, seemingly startled, instinctively replied, "Billy, Billy's keeping an eye on her."
A thunderous realization struck my mind as if I'd been hit by lightning.
I yanked out my IV, tumbled out of bed, and half-crawled, half-ran to Delia's room.
As I feared, Delia was nowhere to be seen!
I dashed to the nurses' station, gritting my teeth as I demanded, "Where's my daughter? Which room is she in?"
I knew I must have looked frightening, having barely slept and now fueled by anger.
The nurse, visibly shaken, pointed down the hall, "She's... she's in the operating room at the very end."