Angel in Scrubs
one.
I was dead.
I was pretty sure I was dead. It was pitch black, and I couldn't see or hear or feel anything - I vaguely remembered what had happened - flashes of orange and red, angry flames that licked the side of my cheek. There was a rush of intense, unbearable pain, then something - or someone, I realized - knocked into me, and my vision snapped, the blackness enclosing in on me.
I heard my heart beat, actually. A thrumming beat, going too fast to be my own. It sounded like a hummingbird's heartbeat, one constant steady beat that trilled in my ears, and I tried desperately to draw in a breath, before realizing that I couldn't drag in the air, and I was starting to panic. I finally felt something - someone's hands slamming into my ribcage, pounding against my bones, and my ribs screamed in protest as I felt several snapping motions in my chest. A burning rush of oxygen gasped into my lungs and I started breathing frantically, finding an oxygen mask on my face.
And I passed out again.
--
When I came to, there was mechanical beeping and dripping noises and whirs, and I was a wrapped up mummy. I raised my thin arm, wrapped thickly in cotton bandaging that itched. I tried to pinch off the butterfly clip, but a masculine hand pushed away my hand, and gently pushed down my arm as my joints screamed in pain.
I looked up to find an angel in scrubs.
He was gorgeous - black hair that tickled his jawbone, a perfectly pointed nose and hazel eyes, framed by thick lashes, that curved into a frown. "Don't do that," his lips spoke, and I could only stare. "You have to let it heal. I know how much it itches, sorry." he apologized, as he fussed with my blankets, tucking them under my legs and my back, his solid hands lifting me up slightly as my ribs and skin screamed in protest, the fabric rubbing against the bandages which rubbed against my skin.
"Sorry, sorry." He said, finally done with the thin sheets. "I'll get Emily to do the needles, I'm not very good with them." He said apologetically, before slipping out of the room. I stared - he was gorgeous. An angel. I could have been in Heaven for all I knew - white walls and white floors and the smell of disinfectant that stung my nose, however, reminded me that I was in a hospital.
The female nurse walked into the room now, and I assumed it was Emily, as she had a trolly and IV needles and bags of liquid. She smiled in a friendly manner, and pointed to her name tag, which read her name. "I'm Emily, Gerard probably told you about me." she smiled, and I smiled faintly, as my face screamed in pain.
Wait.
What?
"Try not to move your face too much if it hurts - The burns probably hurt a lot, don't they." the nurse smiled apologetically, and showed me a reflection of myself in a hand-held mirror.
I was wrapped thoroughly in cotton bandages - my chest was all wrapped up, as well was the entirety of my right side as well as my face. I gasped audibly - I realized this was all burns and broken bones. I needed to talk, and Emily seemed to sense this, as she reached for a paper pad and a pen. "I hope you can write a little bit with your left hand." I wasn't left-handed, but beggars couldn't be choosers, as I grabbed the pen and pad, and clumsily scribbled, WHAT'S THE DAMAGE?
She sighed. "Mostly second degree burns though your face and leg have a few third-degree burns, three cracked ribs. The ribs were from the CPR, which Gerard feels bad about."
I paused. CPR?
"When we found you, you were passed out, presumably from smoke inhalation. The firefighters had to lift you out, and you were the only sur-" Emily stopped herself, and I felt tears prickling and burning the skin around my eyes.
DID THEY DIE?
"I'm sorry, honey." She said, as she reached for IV bags and needles. "I need to switch your sugar drip, hold on." She said, as she went around the other side of my bed to my left arm. I peeked - there were two needles, one on my forearm and one below my shoulders. She pulled off the bag from the very top of the tube, replacing it with the new one. I realized that I must have been passed out for several days - one large IV bag of sugar water dripping into my veins couldn't run out that quickly.
HOW LONG WAS I OUT?
"Almost three days, now. It was a busy night at the hospital which is why a few of the stronger male nurses who had emergency training went out as EMTs." Emily explained, and secured the drip bag back to the stand. "Okay, you have to get a shot, and Gerard will be here with the painkiller." she said, pulling out a thin syringe filled with a clear liquid. "Leg or arm?" she asked, and I pointed towards my leg with the pen, and she immediately started wiping down a patch on my leg, before quickly administering the needle and putting a bandaid on top of the spot where the needle had poked. It stung, but it wasn't as unbearable as the cotton bandages, which were starting to itch now. Emily gave me a swift smile before leaving the room.
The angel in scrubs appeared soon after, pulling a face. "I hate needles." he admitted to me, balancing a tray of medications on one hand. "This isn't for you, by the way. I had to help out with the old folk's wing." he added, as he set down the gray plastic tray, reminiscent of cafeteria trays, as he pulled out a smaller needle, adding something to the drip on the IV tube and grimacing, before throwing the whole syringe into the trash can. Immediately I felt a shallow drowsiness blur out my vision, and he smiled. "Sleep. It'll help the healing."
I tried to remember his name through the fog, blurring my memory. His name was... Gerald? No, Gerard, I remembered, and I managed to scribble his name on the pad of paper before my eyelids drooped.
The last thing I saw before the sleep was the angry, bright flames.
I was pretty sure I was dead. It was pitch black, and I couldn't see or hear or feel anything - I vaguely remembered what had happened - flashes of orange and red, angry flames that licked the side of my cheek. There was a rush of intense, unbearable pain, then something - or someone, I realized - knocked into me, and my vision snapped, the blackness enclosing in on me.
I heard my heart beat, actually. A thrumming beat, going too fast to be my own. It sounded like a hummingbird's heartbeat, one constant steady beat that trilled in my ears, and I tried desperately to draw in a breath, before realizing that I couldn't drag in the air, and I was starting to panic. I finally felt something - someone's hands slamming into my ribcage, pounding against my bones, and my ribs screamed in protest as I felt several snapping motions in my chest. A burning rush of oxygen gasped into my lungs and I started breathing frantically, finding an oxygen mask on my face.
And I passed out again.
--
When I came to, there was mechanical beeping and dripping noises and whirs, and I was a wrapped up mummy. I raised my thin arm, wrapped thickly in cotton bandaging that itched. I tried to pinch off the butterfly clip, but a masculine hand pushed away my hand, and gently pushed down my arm as my joints screamed in pain.
I looked up to find an angel in scrubs.
He was gorgeous - black hair that tickled his jawbone, a perfectly pointed nose and hazel eyes, framed by thick lashes, that curved into a frown. "Don't do that," his lips spoke, and I could only stare. "You have to let it heal. I know how much it itches, sorry." he apologized, as he fussed with my blankets, tucking them under my legs and my back, his solid hands lifting me up slightly as my ribs and skin screamed in protest, the fabric rubbing against the bandages which rubbed against my skin.
"Sorry, sorry." He said, finally done with the thin sheets. "I'll get Emily to do the needles, I'm not very good with them." He said apologetically, before slipping out of the room. I stared - he was gorgeous. An angel. I could have been in Heaven for all I knew - white walls and white floors and the smell of disinfectant that stung my nose, however, reminded me that I was in a hospital.
The female nurse walked into the room now, and I assumed it was Emily, as she had a trolly and IV needles and bags of liquid. She smiled in a friendly manner, and pointed to her name tag, which read her name. "I'm Emily, Gerard probably told you about me." she smiled, and I smiled faintly, as my face screamed in pain.
Wait.
What?
"Try not to move your face too much if it hurts - The burns probably hurt a lot, don't they." the nurse smiled apologetically, and showed me a reflection of myself in a hand-held mirror.
I was wrapped thoroughly in cotton bandages - my chest was all wrapped up, as well was the entirety of my right side as well as my face. I gasped audibly - I realized this was all burns and broken bones. I needed to talk, and Emily seemed to sense this, as she reached for a paper pad and a pen. "I hope you can write a little bit with your left hand." I wasn't left-handed, but beggars couldn't be choosers, as I grabbed the pen and pad, and clumsily scribbled, WHAT'S THE DAMAGE?
She sighed. "Mostly second degree burns though your face and leg have a few third-degree burns, three cracked ribs. The ribs were from the CPR, which Gerard feels bad about."
I paused. CPR?
"When we found you, you were passed out, presumably from smoke inhalation. The firefighters had to lift you out, and you were the only sur-" Emily stopped herself, and I felt tears prickling and burning the skin around my eyes.
DID THEY DIE?
"I'm sorry, honey." She said, as she reached for IV bags and needles. "I need to switch your sugar drip, hold on." She said, as she went around the other side of my bed to my left arm. I peeked - there were two needles, one on my forearm and one below my shoulders. She pulled off the bag from the very top of the tube, replacing it with the new one. I realized that I must have been passed out for several days - one large IV bag of sugar water dripping into my veins couldn't run out that quickly.
HOW LONG WAS I OUT?
"Almost three days, now. It was a busy night at the hospital which is why a few of the stronger male nurses who had emergency training went out as EMTs." Emily explained, and secured the drip bag back to the stand. "Okay, you have to get a shot, and Gerard will be here with the painkiller." she said, pulling out a thin syringe filled with a clear liquid. "Leg or arm?" she asked, and I pointed towards my leg with the pen, and she immediately started wiping down a patch on my leg, before quickly administering the needle and putting a bandaid on top of the spot where the needle had poked. It stung, but it wasn't as unbearable as the cotton bandages, which were starting to itch now. Emily gave me a swift smile before leaving the room.
The angel in scrubs appeared soon after, pulling a face. "I hate needles." he admitted to me, balancing a tray of medications on one hand. "This isn't for you, by the way. I had to help out with the old folk's wing." he added, as he set down the gray plastic tray, reminiscent of cafeteria trays, as he pulled out a smaller needle, adding something to the drip on the IV tube and grimacing, before throwing the whole syringe into the trash can. Immediately I felt a shallow drowsiness blur out my vision, and he smiled. "Sleep. It'll help the healing."
I tried to remember his name through the fog, blurring my memory. His name was... Gerald? No, Gerard, I remembered, and I managed to scribble his name on the pad of paper before my eyelids drooped.
The last thing I saw before the sleep was the angry, bright flames.