The limbo of the ICU

Days go by. One after another. She just lies there. She can't even breathe by herself. One hour is exactly the same as the following one or the previous one. No difference between day an night.
I want her out of ICU now. I hate that place. The smell. The drama. Every family has its own kind of drama.
Now she's opening her eyes and looking at me. I hold her hand all the time I'm with her. I'm scared like hell. I'm afraid she'll lose her mind, like the last time she was in the hospital, just a month ago.
This time looks like it's gonna be much worse… she's been under sedation for so long. She's been so close to death this time. And she's alone. I'm only allowed two hours a day with her. That's what worries me the most. I'd like to be there everytime she opens her eyes. I don't want her to feel alone. I don't want her to feel the same fear that I feel. I'm wondering what she's thinking now. I don't want her to think that her life is over and she's only a pain to me now. I do need her as much as she needs me. I'm exhausted by now. Let's hope.