PANIC

An hour later!

I'm here at the hospital with a bandaged, pounding head and a depleted self, struggling to control the restless and uncomfortable, anxious Andy. His wound on his right upper arm is badly bleeding, and his white t-shirt has deviated to a red color. He has vetoed being touched by any doctor, and all he has been doing for the last hour since we arrived in this hospital is pacing back and forth outside of the room where Angel is being attended to by a team of doctors.

He does not care about his own well-being at all, but that of his daughter. His life is not important, but his precious daughter's. He is squirming uncontrollably with impatience and fear. He can't stand still even for a minute, and mellowing him down has been one of the most impossible things I have ever experienced.

"Andy, please! Angel will be fine. Try to calm down." I mumbled for the thousandth time.

"Calm down, Ania? My daughter was barely breathing when I handed her to the doctors. It's been an hour no