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Angel 6
by David Wainio |
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Mercy Rose Hospital Complex
Roseville, Tukayyid
21 May 3052
Terry’s existence swirled about him in colors and in darkness in patterns that he couldn’t comprehend. He was exhausted and pained, then later was feeling nothing and seemed to float about. He’d caught snatches of voices. Heard someone referred to as “nurse”. The small part of his consciousness that still dared to even attempt to function was vaguely aware that he must be in a hospital somewhere. But most of his consciousness didn’t want to revive. It wanted to sleep forever. Living would be too hard.
The instinctual responses hardwired into the human genetic makeup clung to life however. When swelling and new bleeding cut off his breathing, the base drive to breathe – the need to draw air – broke through the drugs and his ebbing will to drag his consciousness to the forefront. Panic, the familiar threat that Terry had thought himself finally taken beyond, clawed at his thoughts as he clutched clumsily at his throat in confusion. Somebody had lectured him. Somebody had told him something important. He remembered nodding that yes, he understood. But what was it?
“Emergency buzzer,” supplied a soft voice.
That was it. The emergency buzzer mounted on the bed rail. Terry tried to roll up on one side so he could reach it.
“Can’t…reach,” he gurgled. Frantically he tried again but managed to only rise a quarter of the way.
“Hold on, let me help. I don’t have one. Maybe I can nudge yours closer from where I am ”.
Terry made one more stretch. This time the tips of his fingers brushed the call button. Moments later the med-techs burst into the room in response to the electronic call for help. This patient was one of only a handful of survivors. The med staff couldn’t go out and make the Clanner pay for the harm they’d caused but they would fight like hell to rob them of every kill they could. It extra satisfying every time they cheated a Clan instigated death.
In short order they had a trach-tube punched in and the patient was resting easy once again. A new set of drugs would reduce the throat swelling. They should have recognized the danger and taken the proper precautions. That had been close. The automatic monitors would have gone on reporting a beating heart while lack of oxygen started killing his brain. They should have also attached the emergency beeper to his gown sleeve for easy reach. It was a lucky thing he woke and hit the distress key.
“I’m surprised he was able to move at all the way he’s drugged right now,” sighed a nurse.
“He’s damn lucky our incompetence didn’t kill him tonight,” growled the Koeller, the shift leader. “I want everything in his chart double checked and someone on station in this room until he’s moved to stable condition.”
After a round of affirmative responses the others set about cleaning up the discarded wrappings of their wares. |
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