The night is a weird mash-up of tiny bits of sleep and bad dreams. They move me at around three a.m. when a room finally opens up on the pediatric floor. There are sunshines on the floors and a picture of a cow jumping over the moon on my wall. The nurses come in every hour to aim a light at my eyes and ask me questions like what season comes after winter and can I touch the tips of my index fingers together. There’s an ice machine just outside my room. I cringe every time I hear the whirring that comes right before the thunk-thunk-thunk of the ice. Something about that sound feels like a knife scraping across a bare plate. It’s terrible. And exhausting. Who needs that much ice at 4:08, 4:36, 5:13 in the morning? I can’t sleep anyway, without Mom. My head hurts too much to cry.

By the time the door swings open at seven a.m. and Dr. Janson comes in with Maria and a new nurse, I feel weak and shivery in a way that’s worse than sitting in the snow with my head banged up.

“How are we feeling this morning?” Dr. Janson says with a hand on the bed rail, again too close to my hand.

“I’m okay.” Where’s my mom? I want to ask, but these people make me feel so small, I can’t find any words that aren’t answers to their questions.

“No dizziness? The nausea has gone away?”

I nod.

“Well, let’s get you on your feet for a minute and check that balance. You’ve got a sizeable bump up there, and I want to make sure you’re on the mend before we discharge you.”

I slip out of the bed, feeling naked in the hospital gown. It’s a child’s size small but hangs off my bony shoulders and billows out in the back like a cape. The nurse reaches out a hand to steady me, but I dodge it and grip the bed rail. There’ve been way too many hands on me lately.

“Okay, Louise,” Dr. Janson says. “Feet together and arms out to your sides. A little higher.”

She reaches out and lifts my right wrist to shoulder height, but she does it with her pen, which is okay. I hold the position until my shoulders burn and arms shake. Which isn’t very long.

“Okay, that’s enough.” She turns to the nurse. “I think we’re good to discharge tomorrow if the night goes well. That is”—she turns to Maria—“if you have everything you need from us in regards to placement?”