by Writing Shark
A life worth dying for
“Doctor? Doctor! He’s waking up!” The first thing you notice is the pain. Dull and all over. The next thing you notice is that the pain has changed. And then a bright white light. You know you’re alive because you wouldn’t go to heaven, that’s for sure. You almost have to laugh but your throat feels like a burning iron bar has been rammed into it. “Lie still and don’t move!” a muffled voice reaches your ear. “You’ve been mechanically ventilated.” That explains the pain in your throat. You want to raise your hand but something prevents you. Then you feel a warm, gentle touch. “You have been restrained for your own protection. Please lie very still. Doctor!” You show your thumb to the voice. All right. No big deal. In your other arm you feel something different, first a twinge, then something cool that quickly gets warmer. First the sounds come again, then you feel your heart beating hard in your chest. Then your body and… the pain fades more and more. Apparently you are still alive. The next thing that comes back is seeing and the first thing your eyes perceive makes you doubt being alive. The face of an angel looks at you worriedly.
“Didn’t you say I was alive?” you ask hoarsely and in a weak voice. The angel blinks and then shows two bright, straight rows of bare teeth in one of the most beautiful smiles you have ever seen. You are most certainly dead.
“Yes, you’re alive and I’m sure you’ll be as bright as a button soon.” You can’t believe it, but you’re not the one whose side God is on.
“You’re the expert,” you mutter, trying to move your head. Then it dawns on you. “A hospital?”
“You’re at Tom Bosley Memorial Hospital” announces the angel of….
“Oh, excuse me Doctor” you mutter as you recognize the bright blue clothing.
“Just Nurse” smiles the angel… nurse cheerfully. “Nurse Brown.” Her name matches her long hair which she has tied into a smart ponytail that falls over her back and her blue uniform. Her bright blue eyes examine you closely, making you feel lighter, which is good for your upset stomach.
“What happened?” you ask, already feeling a little better at the sight of the young woman. Nurse Braun’s features darken a bit and her face takes on a worried look.
“I’d rather have the doctor explain that to you, okay?” But she doesn’t wait for a reaction, which wouldn’t come anyway because you’re just lost in her eyes. “Can you tell me your name?” You blink your eyes, but try to center yourself.
“Finn…Lynchwood,” you mumble, “I was on my way from the grocery store…and then…” At that moment, the door to the room you’re lying in opens. You follow the soft sound of the hinge and realize that you are lying in a room with many devices on the wall. Your bed is alone and only Nurse Brown is in the room.
“Ah,” the man who has just entered makes and strides quickly toward you. His coat is whirling behind him. He is obviously a doctor. “I see you are with us again” he greets you, “Nurse Brown?” The nurse turns to the doctor but places her dainty hand on your shoulder.
“Patent’s name is Finn Lynchwood by his own admission. Blood work stable, pupils reacting normally, responds to external stimuli and can already articulate. It’s…amazing…” The nurse looks at you with something like admiration, which you don’t quite understand. But then you remember the blood on the sidewalk.
“Well done Doris,” the doctor says appreciatively and the girl nods with satisfaction. Then your view of the picture-perfect creature is blocked by the doctor who leans over you energetically and examines you. “What can you remember?” the doctor asks as he performs the same tests on you that Doris must have done when you woke up. While you tell him everything you can remember, the doctor examines you some more.
“And then I woke up here. I… didn’t think someone could lose blood like that.” The doctor looks at you long and hard.
“Neither can you Mister Lynchwood. That was at least four liters the paramedics found… after three hours.” You hold your breath.
“What?”
“You got lucky” Nurse Brown translates your thoughts and looks relieved. She clutches a clipboard that appears to have your information on it. You catch a glimpse of the many many values marked in red.
“Nurse Brown is right, your survival is… amazing.” The doctor shakes his head. “We also found dead tissue in your blood. At first we thought Ebola, but tested and found nothing. Just amazing.”
“I’m… feeling much better” you mumble and try to sit up in bed, but are held back by two amazingly strong female hands and the restraints.
“You’ve been away for two days Mister Lynchwood. No heroics now, understand?” You nod. Anyway, now you don’t have to spoil your few acquaintances the birthday party by canceling. While you are ashamed to think this way, the doctor takes more readings from the many machines around your bed and discusses a few things with the angel Doris whose ponytail dances around her shoulders as she takes down the readings. At some point the doctor leaves the room, surely to see other patients.
“Hey doc?” you murmur and glance down to your arms. “Eh, are these necessary?” You state the fact that you are fixated on your bed. The doctor, already out of the room stops in his trails and turns around. He seems to struggles with himself then relaxes.
“Not with Ebola Mr. Lynchwood. Doris…” Doris is fast with her work and seconds later you feel your arms.
“Interesting” the nurse states. Normally we aren’t allowed to remove the shackles so fast.” She shrugs. In the doorway, the doctor chuckles.
“We trust you with that young man. my word is the law here, no heroic doings or we restrain you again.” You nod and that seems to sue the doctor’s worries. “If you need anything, let Nurse Braun know, she’ll take care of you until we discharge you.” You nod to the doctor and notice a big smile on the nurse’s face. As the door closes behind him, however, it takes you two tries before you manage to look at the girl. Not that your eyes don’t work, Nurse Brown is just so beautiful.
“Okay,” she finally says. “Everything looks fine. For someone who was in such bad shape the day before yesterday, you look a lot better now.”
“Thanks, Doris,” you say, biting your tongue. “Sorry, Nurse Braun of course.” Doris laughs brightly and gives you a pleasant poke in the stomach area without even having to touch you. Your weeks of nausea are forgotten.
“Actually, we keep a businesslike manner here at TBMH,” she says with mock severity, frowning so that small wrinkles form on the bridge of her nose. “But I can see that you’d feel better if you called me by my first name. And making patients feel comfortable is my job.” She rocks on her feet a few times and your eyes almost fall out of your head. “Next to your bed, you’ll find a button you can use to call me…uh, or one of my colleagues, anytime.” She blushes a bit on her cheeks at this mistake and turns to leave. “Feel free to press it if you need me…” Again she shakes her head. “I mean… you know.” Then the girl turns on her heel and you wonder what that meant.
“Wait, please!” you call after the embarrassed girl, and are actually taken aback when she stops and turns around as the doctor did earlier. She is visibly uncomfortable but still does her duty.
“What can I do for you Mister Lynchwood?” she asks without being able to look at you. Actually, you don’t even know what you wanted to say to her. But it’s clear that you want Doris near you after these terrible days.
“Can’t you call me by my first name?” Doris seems relieved at the question and her shoulders relax, her fingers not clutching the clipboard so tightly anymore.
“Of course…Finn.” She nods, more to herself than anything else, and you almost feel better. You’ve never talked to a girl this naturally before, and even when you have once it’s quickly ended in a full-blown disaster. But with Doris you feel comfortable. “And how about a nice juicy steak for dinner?” you ask, congratulating yourself on this excellent joke about the hospital food system.
“It’s the middle of the night, Mister… Finn” says Doris, laughing again so brightly and adorably. You look out the window and pucker up. You could really use some nourishment right now.
“I’ll settle for the leftovers from dinner,” you say, not wanting to inconvenience the nurse.” Doris leans against the doorframe and examines you closely, something is going on in her head.
“I’ll see what I can do Finn.” Then she is gone through the door, leaving you wondering.
Some time passes, hours you estimate, in which you lie alone in your room, only the beeping of the heart monitors and the whirring of the other machines as your companions. Time enough to take a closer look at yourself. You almost died, maybe even for a few minutes. So much blood, and yet… you feel fantastic. No wonder after such a great and invigorating encounter with such a great person as nurse Doris. Satisfied, you lean back in your bed. The only thing that bothers you is that the bed seems to be too short and your feet bump against the board at the end while you are already lying on a mountain of pillows, your head already above the stands at the head end. But that can wait until night. For now, you enjoy being alive. Strange. You feel really good. Your body feels great, but it really shouldn’t. Or maybe it’s because you’ve forgotten what it feels like to be healthy after the last few weeks of constant pain. You close your eyes and breathe in and out slowly, images of nurse Doris Brown in your mind’s eye.
Writing Shark 