**Chapter 17: Reflections in a Sterile Room**

The corridors seemed to stretch on forever as Dr. Thompson led us to my new room. We finally stopped in front of a door with a small sign that read "Room 304". She unlocked the door and gestured for me to enter. The room was small, with a single bed, a desk, and a chair. A large window looked out onto the hospital grounds, and I could see a few trees swaying gently in the breeze. As I stepped inside, my eyes landed on the bed, and I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me. My dad helped me settle in, putting my bag on the chair and smoothing out the bed. Dr. Thompson handed me a small folder with some papers and a schedule. "This is your treatment plan," she explained. "It outlines your daily routine, medication, and therapy sessions. Don't worry if it seems overwhelming – we'll go over it all with you in detail." As she left us to settle in, my dad sat down on the bed beside me and put his arm around me. I leaned into him, feeling a sense of comfort and security. But as I looked around the room, my mind began to wander. I thought about my mom, and how much I missed her. She had died a year ago, and the pain still felt like a raw wound. I remembered the day she passed away, the feeling of emptiness and loss that had consumed me. And today, I had almost died too. The memory of the accident, of the sound of screeching tires and shattering glass, still lingered in my mind. As I stared blankly at the wall, I couldn't help but feel a wave of guilt wash over me. I was selfish, I realized. I had put my dad through so much pain, and I had almost taken myself away from him. The thought made my eyes sting with tears. My dad seemed to sense my distress and pulled me closer. "Hey, kiddo, it's okay," he whispered. "I'm here for you. You're not alone." But I felt alone, trapped in my own thoughts and emotions. I thought about all the times I had pushed my dad away, all the times I had lashed out at him. I thought about the pain I had caused him, and the worry that I had put in his eyes. As the tears began to fall, my dad held me tightly, whispering words of comfort in my ear. But even as he held me, I couldn't shake off the feeling of selfishness that had taken up residence in my heart. I felt like I was a burden, a weight that my dad carried around with him. The room seemed to fade away, and all that was left was me, my thoughts, and my emotions. I was lost in a sea of regret and sorrow, and I didn't know how to find my way back to shore. But as I looked up at my dad, I saw the love and concern in his eyes, and I knew that I wasn't alone. Not yet, at least.