Nightmare Clinic
Nightmare Clinic
Jeff woke to find himself safe in his hospital bed. He couldn't remember what it was that had woken him from his sleep, but other than a slight feeling of foreboding and a very mild cold clamminess to his skin nothing really seemed off. The room was dark, the curtains and blinds closed, the overhead light off and the bed's nightlight out. The only light in the room came from the hallway. Maybe, it had been a nightmare.
Yes, in fact, he was sure of it. After nearly dying in a motorcycle accident that was probably normal, right? He'd probably dreamed about the accident and forgot when he woke up. It made sense, right? Anyway, Jeff didn't like hospitals so that was likely contributing to his unease. He was glad he would be getting out of here soon. It would be sooner, except every time he came close to check-out day his white blood cell count would spike and alarm his doctors and they'd insist on keeping him. Hopefully, the third try would be the charm.
Sure, it would. Luck worked in threes like that. He'd heard that somewhere. So with the lucky third try and a positive attitude he could will even his white blood cells to behave, right? Of course! There were yogis in, what, India, who could--
“Jeff, what are you doing awake at this hour? You should be getting your rest. No wonder your white count keeps spiking,” came the voice of a nurse he liked.
She was young and pretty with chestnut hair and hazel eyes. Eyes which were now fixed on him to complete a look of obvious disapproval.
“Sorry, Cara,” he said a bit sheepishly, “I think I had another nightmare.”
“Oh, that's too bad. I was hoping those would stop,” she said, sounding genuinely concerned, not like it was just her job. It put Jeff at ease and he smiled.
“Doesn't look like it. Is this normal?” he asked.
“Well, a bit. One of the side effects of the meds we have you on is nightmares, but they aren't the most common,”
“Can you maybe switch me to something else?” Jeff only wanted to get some real rest.
“I'll speak to Dr. Jenkins about it.” she answered with a smile as she finished with her checking of the charts and monitors.
***
The next night Jeff was a bit more snappish and impatient with the hospital staff. His doctor had refused to change his medication and Cara wasn't on shift tonight. She was the only decent nurse on the whole damn staff as far as he was concerned. At least she truly cared about her patients. Unlike the rest of these harpies.
He ran a hand over his bald head before deciding to get comfortable. He may as well try to sleep. Who knew? Maybe he would get lucky and escape the nightmares. He didn't want to ask for too much luck, though. That would be greedy and would probably put a jinx on the whole damn thing.
“Positive thoughts, Jeff,” he mumbled to himself as a reminder. He was being too cantankerous tonight.
***
This time when he woke up it was to a sharp pain and a jolt. Looking up he saw a woman, one of the nurses. She was the red-head, Emily, he thought her name was.
He was about to open his mouth and asked what happened when he noticed the strange way she was looking at him. As if she hated him with the power of all the heat and brimstone of Hell. Then she opened her mouth and hissed at him like some sort of mutated snake, showing two fangs, long and sharp and dripping with some sort of liquid. Blood, venom? He couldn't tell, the light was too dim.
Emily shot forward and bit his shoulder firmly. He could swear he shrieked in panic before losing consciousness.
***
He woke with a sudden jerk, only to feel a gentle hand on his chest, pushing him back down. Despite his confusion, he obeyed the hand.
“Calm down, Jeff. Another nightmare?” came a soft voice.
Looking up, he was surprised to see Emily there. She looked completely normal, though. No evil eyes or dripping fangs. Just one of the nicer nurses who worked this floor.
“Yeah, must have been,” he said, reaching up to rub a hand over his face. He winced at a bit of dull pain in his shoulder, prepared to dismiss it before he remembered the dream. Not only was it the same shoulder that Nightmare Emily had bit him on...it also felt like it was probably the same spot.
“Well, that's too bad. I'll make another note of it for Dr. Jenkins,” Emily said with a smile, leaving the room after setting his chart down in its usual spot.
Jeff could only nod dumbly at her retreating form. His mouth had gone dry and his skin clammy. He looked down at his shoulder, covered by the standard-issue hospital gown he wore, and raised his other hand, allowing it to hover over the sore area. Maybe he should take a look...just in case.
No, this was stupid. There were no such things as monsters and dreams did not come true. And besides...some part of him which was very dominant right now didn't want to know. He knew it was irrational and that not looking could be trouble, because what if something were wrong with his shoulder? Someone should know about it. But, he couldn't make himself check. Part of him felt that if there was something wrong with his shoulder, no matter what it was, it would be confirmation that his dream had been real, that it had actually happened. And that, of course, was insane. Which would mean he was insane.
So, he moved his hand back to his side where it belonged and looked up at the ceiling. He would make himself think of pleasant, rational, sane thoughts instead. That would get his mind off of the nightmares and monsters and insane weirdness. He was a grown man, way too old to be scaring himself in the dark of night when he should be sleeping.
***
He had fallen asleep again despite himself that night, but thankfully had no more nightmares. It was a very pleasant change and he hoped it was a sign of better luck headed his way. He even ate all of the food that was sent to his room that day, finding that when usually he had trouble simply choking the hospital food down today he could hardly get enough of it and even found himself disappointed and still hungry when it was gone. Maybe he could convince a nurse somehow to get him a snack a little bit later.
Even his shoulder felt good as new. In fact, he was feeling so good he hoped he might get a visitor or two today. So far no one had bothered to visit him, and while at first he had been glad that nobody could see him at his worst and make a fuss he was beginning to feel hurt and lonely at the obvious neglect. He was surprised his brother Wayne hadn't insisted on visiting. He was a worrier like that. Still, at least Wayne had called a couple of times. His boyfriend, Adam, hadn't even bothered to do that much. That really hurt.
But, if today was an indication that his luck was turning around maybe all of that would change! Maybe both Wayne and Adam would visit. And maybe there was a perfectly good and reasonable excuse for the odd behavior, too. All he had to do was wait for them to show up and explain.
Jeff waited all day and by the time dinner arrived he was no longer hungry. His upbeat attitude had left him. Nobody came to visit and no one even so much as called. Just the nurses and Dr. Jenkins, who still refused to change his meds...especially since the nightmares seemed to be gone and he'd had such a good appetite and humor earlier. Hospital staff didn't really count as visitors, anyway. At least as far as he was concerned.
***
At around eight that night he tried to call Adam but got no answer. The phone just kept ringing.
Dejected, and a bit down-right angry, Jeff hung up after what seemed like it damn well had to be around the 80th ring. He would definitely be giving Adam a piece of his mind once he got out of here. What kind of behavior was this, anyway? Who treated someone they loved as if they didn't matter?
It was while he was having these angry thoughts that he began to hear the voices, feeling just a little numb and detached from himself at the same time. He probably ought to be alarmed, but he wasn't. The numbness he felt in his body seemed to reach to his emotions, too.
“Are you sure? If we take him off of the medication there could be side-effects,” a female voice Jeff almost thought could be Cara's sounded concerned.
“I understand that, I'm well aware of how the medication he is on works, Miss Nordstrom,” an irritated male voice this time, “however, he must be taken off of it completely or the whole thing is useless and we may as well not even be here,”
“It just seems like something we could get sued over,” came another female voice. Emily?
“We won't. Next of kin has consented and signed all the paperwork. Do as I ask, please,” the male voice again, this time less irritated but definitely tired.
***
“Another weird dream?” Cara asked as Jeff came back around. He could swear that what he'd just experienced had been no dream. It had seemed far too real. The again, what else could it have been?
“Yeah, and this one was a real doozy,” he answered, running a hand over his bald head. Well, buzzed, actually. After so long here, though, his hair was growing in a bit more. One of the first things he would do once he was out of this joint would be to go to the barber. He'd have some good stories to tell Mack, that was for sure. Ghoulish nurses and disembodied voices. Really!
“That's too bad. You were in such good spirits earlier I was sure those dreams were gone this time,” Cara's tone was sympathetic and he believed she meant it.
“It's okay. Hey...have you heard whether maybe Adam called while I was asleep?” he asked.
“No, no one's called. Why, were you expecting a call?” she replied.
“Yeah...well, no...well, sort of. I called him earlier, but no answer. I was hoping he'd call back,” Jeff tried to keep the dejection he was feeling off of his face, but from the look on Cara's he hadn't done a very good job of it. Failed seemed like the best word.
“Oh, Jeff. I'm sorry. Maybe he'll call tomorrow,” she said, her tone the sort you'd use to convince a small child you understood how they must feel at the unfortunate beheading of a favorite doll. It was the first time he remembered ever feeling annoyed with Cara.
“You're probably right,” Jeff answered, no longer really wanting to talk to her.
***
There was so much smoke and fire and pain that Jeff could barely see. At first he wasn't even sure what had happened, but it suddenly came back to him in a crash of memory. He had been on the bike with Adam when they'd been hit. His bike had been pushed into oncoming traffic before being hit again and sent onto a grass bank near the road. Everything went fuzzy after that so he supposed he must have passed out or something. He didn't make a habit of randomly passing out, so he didn't really know what that was supposed to be like.
But, wait...Adam! Where was Adam?! As Jeff tried to maneuver himself around and up into a sitting position he found it more difficult and painful than he had anticipated. He had to crawl, more or less, toward the burning and smoking debris, calling Adam's name.
There wasn't a need to do that for long before he realized someone was screaming. Screaming for help, screaming for Jeff.
“Adam! I'm here, Adam! I'm right here, I'm coming, just hang on!” he called, heading to where he was certain he could hear his boyfriend's voice coming from.
Jeff was horrified when he realized Adam was pinned under the burning motorcycle. He was unable to reach him, though, before the bike exploded and he felt a sudden pain in his head.
***
Jeff woke with a start, tears on his face. He wiped them away before running his hand through his short, blond hair again. That had seemed so real. He had even felt pain. You weren't supposed to be able to feel pain in dreams, right? Could that have been real? An actual memory? But, wait, that made no sense. There was no way he'd be able to forget Adam being there and dying. And the nurses all seemed genuinely upset that Adam wouldn't call or visit, it didn't seem like they were keeping anything from him. Dr. Jenkins, either. And the few times he'd spoken to Wayne on the phone in the beginning gave no hint of anything off like that.
Anyway, he remembered distinctly that Adam had stayed home that day. He had been sick with the flu and hadn't felt like going for a ride. He even remembered kissing him goodbye and Adam telling him he was an idiot because he'd probably get the flu, too, after that. Just their usual good-natured banter before he'd left on the bike. Alone. Adam was fine.
However, after that nightmare he could no longer be angry with Adam for staying away and not calling. It put things in perspective. And Jeff knew Adam had a phobia of hospitals and people in hospitals. Even more than Jeff did. Way more.
Everything was fine. Adam was fine, he assured himself again.
***
“You've looked like you've seen a ghost for the past hour, Jeff. What's wrong?” Emily asked as she entered the room. Jeff could see the nurse's station when his door was open and the curtains around his bed weren't drawn, so he supposed they could see him. It struck him as a little odd that they'd been watching him for an hour, though. Didn't they have any other patients?
“Yeah, sorry. I had a nightmare about Adam,” he confided. There was no one else to tell, anyway.
“Still with those crazy dreams. I wish Dr. Jenkins would find something else to put you on. But, at least you aren't having any physical side effects. I think that's what he's most concerned with,” Emily said as she helped add another pillow to the ones already propping him up, then adjusted the bed a bit for him.
“I almost wish I had something physical instead,” he said with a heavy sigh, “I'd give anything not to have another dream like that again.”
“Don't say that, you could jinx yourself,” Emily scolded gently.
Jeff didn't say anything to that, so she checked some of the monitors, wrote something on his chart and left the room again.
He was glad she was gone, he was still weirded out over that dream he'd had about her. He knew it was silly and totally irrational. Monster nurses, really? But, he couldn't shake the feeling of creepy crawlies when she'd come around. He wished Cara could be the only nurse that would see him. He trusted her the most. Of course, he knew and understood why that wasn't possible. Still didn't change the fact that Emily weirded him out now, though.
***
“Any word from the brother?” asked the voice that sounded suspiciously like Dr. Jenkins. Jeff had the idea that he must be dreaming again, because he had that odd sensation of trying to move, to open his eyes, or make some noise but being unable to that often occurred in dreams. What was it called? Sleep paralysis or something like that.
“No, not yet. It's difficult to get a hold of him. He stopped visiting a few months ago,” Emily answered. Or, at least it was the voice that sounded like Emily's. It wasn't really her. Just a figment of his imagination.
“We can't transfer the patient until his next of kin signs off on it,” Dr. Jenkins sounded exasperated.
“We'll keep trying,” Cara's voice this time. She was the one Jenkins was calling Nordstrom in the last dream like that he had had. Or had that been Emily?
***
Once Jeff woke up he ate some of the food waiting for him, though he wasn't very hungry. He understood the medication he was giving him weird dreams, but why these particular dreams? Why were they taking on the “forms” that they were?
Was this driven by his subconscious somehow? They couldn't be memories. Well, alright, the last two could, possibly, but he didn't think so. He would have known, remembered, in a much more obvious and tangible way if Adam had died. He knew he would have. How do you not know something like that. He refused to entertain the idea that he would have forgotten for any reason, even taking into account stress and head trauma. He simply refused. Maybe, just maybe, that last dream was his overhearing a conversation the doctor and nurses were having about. Or hell, even another patient.
He still didn't think so, though. No, they were all dreams. But, why? Why these dreams all of a sudden. Could they be a subconscious attempt to make him feel better about his apparent abandonment by his family? That did seem to make sense. Although, he felt bad that the way he was subconsciously choosing to explain it away was to turn himself into a hopeless coma patient whose brother had given up on him.
And poor Adam! At least Wayne was alive in the dreams, even if absent. He'd managed to subconsciously kill Adam in a very violent and horrific way. He supposed once he was out of here he may need to see a shrink or something about this.
Maybe Wayne's behavior in the dream was a product of his resentment toward his brother's absence, and Adam's fiery death was a product of his anger over the same sort of behavior. Still, why a coma patient, though? Was it just easier or was it maybe a manifestation of his feelings of helplessness?
Actually, this was starting to make a lot of sense. Maybe, he wouldn't need that shrink after all.
***
“Do you detect any brain activity?” asked Dr. Jenkins, already knowing the answer. That didn't matter, though, it was procedure and he happened to be one of those doctors who insisted everything be done by the book.
“Yes, but there's no picture. Everything points to some type of awareness, but the machine won't display,” Emily answered, disappointed and a bit frustrated.
“It doesn't matter. We went into this knowing it was a long shot. Testing like this on coma patients isn't ideal. Not for this. Even if we did get a picture, it could be a fluke or malfunction. The only real way to be sure would be if he woke up and told us,” Dr. Jenkins reminded.
“I suppose, but that's what this device was developed for. To allow us to get into the minds of coma patients and see what's going on. Maybe one day even leading to a way to communicate with certain patients,” Cara spoke up.
“I know, but medical science takes time. It may be years before we develop a properly functioning device,” Dr. Jenkins explained, patiently and reasonably.
Still, all parties in the room silently wondered just what it was that Patient 64JQ7-58 could be dreaming about.
End
Yes, in fact, he was sure of it. After nearly dying in a motorcycle accident that was probably normal, right? He'd probably dreamed about the accident and forgot when he woke up. It made sense, right? Anyway, Jeff didn't like hospitals so that was likely contributing to his unease. He was glad he would be getting out of here soon. It would be sooner, except every time he came close to check-out day his white blood cell count would spike and alarm his doctors and they'd insist on keeping him. Hopefully, the third try would be the charm.
Sure, it would. Luck worked in threes like that. He'd heard that somewhere. So with the lucky third try and a positive attitude he could will even his white blood cells to behave, right? Of course! There were yogis in, what, India, who could--
“Jeff, what are you doing awake at this hour? You should be getting your rest. No wonder your white count keeps spiking,” came the voice of a nurse he liked.
She was young and pretty with chestnut hair and hazel eyes. Eyes which were now fixed on him to complete a look of obvious disapproval.
“Sorry, Cara,” he said a bit sheepishly, “I think I had another nightmare.”
“Oh, that's too bad. I was hoping those would stop,” she said, sounding genuinely concerned, not like it was just her job. It put Jeff at ease and he smiled.
“Doesn't look like it. Is this normal?” he asked.
“Well, a bit. One of the side effects of the meds we have you on is nightmares, but they aren't the most common,”
“Can you maybe switch me to something else?” Jeff only wanted to get some real rest.
“I'll speak to Dr. Jenkins about it.” she answered with a smile as she finished with her checking of the charts and monitors.
***
The next night Jeff was a bit more snappish and impatient with the hospital staff. His doctor had refused to change his medication and Cara wasn't on shift tonight. She was the only decent nurse on the whole damn staff as far as he was concerned. At least she truly cared about her patients. Unlike the rest of these harpies.
He ran a hand over his bald head before deciding to get comfortable. He may as well try to sleep. Who knew? Maybe he would get lucky and escape the nightmares. He didn't want to ask for too much luck, though. That would be greedy and would probably put a jinx on the whole damn thing.
“Positive thoughts, Jeff,” he mumbled to himself as a reminder. He was being too cantankerous tonight.
***
This time when he woke up it was to a sharp pain and a jolt. Looking up he saw a woman, one of the nurses. She was the red-head, Emily, he thought her name was.
He was about to open his mouth and asked what happened when he noticed the strange way she was looking at him. As if she hated him with the power of all the heat and brimstone of Hell. Then she opened her mouth and hissed at him like some sort of mutated snake, showing two fangs, long and sharp and dripping with some sort of liquid. Blood, venom? He couldn't tell, the light was too dim.
Emily shot forward and bit his shoulder firmly. He could swear he shrieked in panic before losing consciousness.
***
He woke with a sudden jerk, only to feel a gentle hand on his chest, pushing him back down. Despite his confusion, he obeyed the hand.
“Calm down, Jeff. Another nightmare?” came a soft voice.
Looking up, he was surprised to see Emily there. She looked completely normal, though. No evil eyes or dripping fangs. Just one of the nicer nurses who worked this floor.
“Yeah, must have been,” he said, reaching up to rub a hand over his face. He winced at a bit of dull pain in his shoulder, prepared to dismiss it before he remembered the dream. Not only was it the same shoulder that Nightmare Emily had bit him on...it also felt like it was probably the same spot.
“Well, that's too bad. I'll make another note of it for Dr. Jenkins,” Emily said with a smile, leaving the room after setting his chart down in its usual spot.
Jeff could only nod dumbly at her retreating form. His mouth had gone dry and his skin clammy. He looked down at his shoulder, covered by the standard-issue hospital gown he wore, and raised his other hand, allowing it to hover over the sore area. Maybe he should take a look...just in case.
No, this was stupid. There were no such things as monsters and dreams did not come true. And besides...some part of him which was very dominant right now didn't want to know. He knew it was irrational and that not looking could be trouble, because what if something were wrong with his shoulder? Someone should know about it. But, he couldn't make himself check. Part of him felt that if there was something wrong with his shoulder, no matter what it was, it would be confirmation that his dream had been real, that it had actually happened. And that, of course, was insane. Which would mean he was insane.
So, he moved his hand back to his side where it belonged and looked up at the ceiling. He would make himself think of pleasant, rational, sane thoughts instead. That would get his mind off of the nightmares and monsters and insane weirdness. He was a grown man, way too old to be scaring himself in the dark of night when he should be sleeping.
***
He had fallen asleep again despite himself that night, but thankfully had no more nightmares. It was a very pleasant change and he hoped it was a sign of better luck headed his way. He even ate all of the food that was sent to his room that day, finding that when usually he had trouble simply choking the hospital food down today he could hardly get enough of it and even found himself disappointed and still hungry when it was gone. Maybe he could convince a nurse somehow to get him a snack a little bit later.
Even his shoulder felt good as new. In fact, he was feeling so good he hoped he might get a visitor or two today. So far no one had bothered to visit him, and while at first he had been glad that nobody could see him at his worst and make a fuss he was beginning to feel hurt and lonely at the obvious neglect. He was surprised his brother Wayne hadn't insisted on visiting. He was a worrier like that. Still, at least Wayne had called a couple of times. His boyfriend, Adam, hadn't even bothered to do that much. That really hurt.
But, if today was an indication that his luck was turning around maybe all of that would change! Maybe both Wayne and Adam would visit. And maybe there was a perfectly good and reasonable excuse for the odd behavior, too. All he had to do was wait for them to show up and explain.
Jeff waited all day and by the time dinner arrived he was no longer hungry. His upbeat attitude had left him. Nobody came to visit and no one even so much as called. Just the nurses and Dr. Jenkins, who still refused to change his meds...especially since the nightmares seemed to be gone and he'd had such a good appetite and humor earlier. Hospital staff didn't really count as visitors, anyway. At least as far as he was concerned.
***
At around eight that night he tried to call Adam but got no answer. The phone just kept ringing.
Dejected, and a bit down-right angry, Jeff hung up after what seemed like it damn well had to be around the 80th ring. He would definitely be giving Adam a piece of his mind once he got out of here. What kind of behavior was this, anyway? Who treated someone they loved as if they didn't matter?
It was while he was having these angry thoughts that he began to hear the voices, feeling just a little numb and detached from himself at the same time. He probably ought to be alarmed, but he wasn't. The numbness he felt in his body seemed to reach to his emotions, too.
“Are you sure? If we take him off of the medication there could be side-effects,” a female voice Jeff almost thought could be Cara's sounded concerned.
“I understand that, I'm well aware of how the medication he is on works, Miss Nordstrom,” an irritated male voice this time, “however, he must be taken off of it completely or the whole thing is useless and we may as well not even be here,”
“It just seems like something we could get sued over,” came another female voice. Emily?
“We won't. Next of kin has consented and signed all the paperwork. Do as I ask, please,” the male voice again, this time less irritated but definitely tired.
***
“Another weird dream?” Cara asked as Jeff came back around. He could swear that what he'd just experienced had been no dream. It had seemed far too real. The again, what else could it have been?
“Yeah, and this one was a real doozy,” he answered, running a hand over his bald head. Well, buzzed, actually. After so long here, though, his hair was growing in a bit more. One of the first things he would do once he was out of this joint would be to go to the barber. He'd have some good stories to tell Mack, that was for sure. Ghoulish nurses and disembodied voices. Really!
“That's too bad. You were in such good spirits earlier I was sure those dreams were gone this time,” Cara's tone was sympathetic and he believed she meant it.
“It's okay. Hey...have you heard whether maybe Adam called while I was asleep?” he asked.
“No, no one's called. Why, were you expecting a call?” she replied.
“Yeah...well, no...well, sort of. I called him earlier, but no answer. I was hoping he'd call back,” Jeff tried to keep the dejection he was feeling off of his face, but from the look on Cara's he hadn't done a very good job of it. Failed seemed like the best word.
“Oh, Jeff. I'm sorry. Maybe he'll call tomorrow,” she said, her tone the sort you'd use to convince a small child you understood how they must feel at the unfortunate beheading of a favorite doll. It was the first time he remembered ever feeling annoyed with Cara.
“You're probably right,” Jeff answered, no longer really wanting to talk to her.
***
There was so much smoke and fire and pain that Jeff could barely see. At first he wasn't even sure what had happened, but it suddenly came back to him in a crash of memory. He had been on the bike with Adam when they'd been hit. His bike had been pushed into oncoming traffic before being hit again and sent onto a grass bank near the road. Everything went fuzzy after that so he supposed he must have passed out or something. He didn't make a habit of randomly passing out, so he didn't really know what that was supposed to be like.
But, wait...Adam! Where was Adam?! As Jeff tried to maneuver himself around and up into a sitting position he found it more difficult and painful than he had anticipated. He had to crawl, more or less, toward the burning and smoking debris, calling Adam's name.
There wasn't a need to do that for long before he realized someone was screaming. Screaming for help, screaming for Jeff.
“Adam! I'm here, Adam! I'm right here, I'm coming, just hang on!” he called, heading to where he was certain he could hear his boyfriend's voice coming from.
Jeff was horrified when he realized Adam was pinned under the burning motorcycle. He was unable to reach him, though, before the bike exploded and he felt a sudden pain in his head.
***
Jeff woke with a start, tears on his face. He wiped them away before running his hand through his short, blond hair again. That had seemed so real. He had even felt pain. You weren't supposed to be able to feel pain in dreams, right? Could that have been real? An actual memory? But, wait, that made no sense. There was no way he'd be able to forget Adam being there and dying. And the nurses all seemed genuinely upset that Adam wouldn't call or visit, it didn't seem like they were keeping anything from him. Dr. Jenkins, either. And the few times he'd spoken to Wayne on the phone in the beginning gave no hint of anything off like that.
Anyway, he remembered distinctly that Adam had stayed home that day. He had been sick with the flu and hadn't felt like going for a ride. He even remembered kissing him goodbye and Adam telling him he was an idiot because he'd probably get the flu, too, after that. Just their usual good-natured banter before he'd left on the bike. Alone. Adam was fine.
However, after that nightmare he could no longer be angry with Adam for staying away and not calling. It put things in perspective. And Jeff knew Adam had a phobia of hospitals and people in hospitals. Even more than Jeff did. Way more.
Everything was fine. Adam was fine, he assured himself again.
***
“You've looked like you've seen a ghost for the past hour, Jeff. What's wrong?” Emily asked as she entered the room. Jeff could see the nurse's station when his door was open and the curtains around his bed weren't drawn, so he supposed they could see him. It struck him as a little odd that they'd been watching him for an hour, though. Didn't they have any other patients?
“Yeah, sorry. I had a nightmare about Adam,” he confided. There was no one else to tell, anyway.
“Still with those crazy dreams. I wish Dr. Jenkins would find something else to put you on. But, at least you aren't having any physical side effects. I think that's what he's most concerned with,” Emily said as she helped add another pillow to the ones already propping him up, then adjusted the bed a bit for him.
“I almost wish I had something physical instead,” he said with a heavy sigh, “I'd give anything not to have another dream like that again.”
“Don't say that, you could jinx yourself,” Emily scolded gently.
Jeff didn't say anything to that, so she checked some of the monitors, wrote something on his chart and left the room again.
He was glad she was gone, he was still weirded out over that dream he'd had about her. He knew it was silly and totally irrational. Monster nurses, really? But, he couldn't shake the feeling of creepy crawlies when she'd come around. He wished Cara could be the only nurse that would see him. He trusted her the most. Of course, he knew and understood why that wasn't possible. Still didn't change the fact that Emily weirded him out now, though.
***
“Any word from the brother?” asked the voice that sounded suspiciously like Dr. Jenkins. Jeff had the idea that he must be dreaming again, because he had that odd sensation of trying to move, to open his eyes, or make some noise but being unable to that often occurred in dreams. What was it called? Sleep paralysis or something like that.
“No, not yet. It's difficult to get a hold of him. He stopped visiting a few months ago,” Emily answered. Or, at least it was the voice that sounded like Emily's. It wasn't really her. Just a figment of his imagination.
“We can't transfer the patient until his next of kin signs off on it,” Dr. Jenkins sounded exasperated.
“We'll keep trying,” Cara's voice this time. She was the one Jenkins was calling Nordstrom in the last dream like that he had had. Or had that been Emily?
***
Once Jeff woke up he ate some of the food waiting for him, though he wasn't very hungry. He understood the medication he was giving him weird dreams, but why these particular dreams? Why were they taking on the “forms” that they were?
Was this driven by his subconscious somehow? They couldn't be memories. Well, alright, the last two could, possibly, but he didn't think so. He would have known, remembered, in a much more obvious and tangible way if Adam had died. He knew he would have. How do you not know something like that. He refused to entertain the idea that he would have forgotten for any reason, even taking into account stress and head trauma. He simply refused. Maybe, just maybe, that last dream was his overhearing a conversation the doctor and nurses were having about. Or hell, even another patient.
He still didn't think so, though. No, they were all dreams. But, why? Why these dreams all of a sudden. Could they be a subconscious attempt to make him feel better about his apparent abandonment by his family? That did seem to make sense. Although, he felt bad that the way he was subconsciously choosing to explain it away was to turn himself into a hopeless coma patient whose brother had given up on him.
And poor Adam! At least Wayne was alive in the dreams, even if absent. He'd managed to subconsciously kill Adam in a very violent and horrific way. He supposed once he was out of here he may need to see a shrink or something about this.
Maybe Wayne's behavior in the dream was a product of his resentment toward his brother's absence, and Adam's fiery death was a product of his anger over the same sort of behavior. Still, why a coma patient, though? Was it just easier or was it maybe a manifestation of his feelings of helplessness?
Actually, this was starting to make a lot of sense. Maybe, he wouldn't need that shrink after all.
***
“Do you detect any brain activity?” asked Dr. Jenkins, already knowing the answer. That didn't matter, though, it was procedure and he happened to be one of those doctors who insisted everything be done by the book.
“Yes, but there's no picture. Everything points to some type of awareness, but the machine won't display,” Emily answered, disappointed and a bit frustrated.
“It doesn't matter. We went into this knowing it was a long shot. Testing like this on coma patients isn't ideal. Not for this. Even if we did get a picture, it could be a fluke or malfunction. The only real way to be sure would be if he woke up and told us,” Dr. Jenkins reminded.
“I suppose, but that's what this device was developed for. To allow us to get into the minds of coma patients and see what's going on. Maybe one day even leading to a way to communicate with certain patients,” Cara spoke up.
“I know, but medical science takes time. It may be years before we develop a properly functioning device,” Dr. Jenkins explained, patiently and reasonably.
Still, all parties in the room silently wondered just what it was that Patient 64JQ7-58 could be dreaming about.
End