Whitney
The hospital is quiet this morning as I carry the food and my purse through the hallways before I hit the elevator. Ryan had barely stirred this morning when I left the bed, which says a lot about how tired he is. We've all been stressed about Trevor, but yesterday they'd downgraded him and moved him to a private room on a regular floor. To say we're all relieved is an understatement.
If you ask everyone in my family, I can almost guarantee that we all slept better last night than we have since the wreck. I struggle with believing it's only been a few days.
The elevator dings and I hop on, not surprised it's empty. Not many people want to spend their Thanksgiving morning in a hospital, but it's tradition for Trevor and I have to have breakfast before we go over to mom and dad's
