Whore.

Chapter 32: Histamine

The constant beeping noises were irritating. They became more frequent as I wondered where they were coming from. Whose annoying alarm was trying to disturb my sleep?

"Oh, thank God."

The first words I heard as my eyes fluttered open were from an unknown voice. I looked up. A rather young male doctor was looking down at me. I wanted to speak but my mouth felt dry and I could feel that there was something on top of it, almost like it was clamping it shut. I tried to make sense of my surroundings. I was in a hospital. The beeps were from a cardiac monitor whose leads were attached to my chest. There was an infusion bag draining its contents into my arm. I couldn't remember coming here. And from how I felt, I didn't think I was sick.

"How are you feeling?" The doctor looked a little too young, like a teenager. He couldn't be older than me. Then again, maybe he had Jeremy Syndrome and was actually thirty.
"Fine" I croaked. I felt thirsty. I reached up and pulled a gas mask off my mouth. "Water."
The doctor looked at me for a few seconds before my request registered. He fumbled with some notes as he walked off, hopefully to get me a drink. I tried to sit up and immediately felt woozy. I lay back and did my best to absorb my environment. I was in a rather busy hospital unit. Everyone seemed in a rush and either walked fast or jogged.The other patients I managed to see where unconscious and hooked up to several machines. They reminded me of Jason as I had seen over a week ago. I wondered if we were in the same hospital. Nurses scurried to a patient whose heart monitor had begun to make rapid ominous beeping noises. Several doctors and nurses ran in his direction.

"Clear!"

I heard a loud thump and I tried to see through the crowd of medics that had surrounded the guy. They were doing the cool shock thing that I always saw on TV. Defib, yeah that's it. Except that their eyes lacked the dramatic excitement. This was just a boring routine for them. I sighed to myself as the young doctor returned with a bottle of water. He offered it to me and I drank eagerly. I felt a little better. I tried to recall how I had gotten here. I was dying; that was my last conscious thought. But somehow, I hadn't died. My sesame allergy had struck again. I remembered the first time it had happened. I was merely a child and only too happy to stuff anything that looked like food in mouth. And then I felt the same things: swollen tongue, breathing difficulty, dizziness, all that. It was probably from a burger. Or maybe a breadstick I couldn't even remember what I had eaten or how I had survived that time. But I knew I had an allergy to sesame. My mother fussed over me enough afterwards to have that fact ingrained in my skull.

"Michael!"

I spun to the side and Swash rushed into the room. I saw the lines of worry all over his face, now easing with relief.

"Sir, you're not allowed in here," the doctor said meekly. Maybe he was intimidated by Swash's size; he was really small.
"I'm sorry, just needed to see him."
"What happened?" I was curious as to how he had handled it. I had no idea what happened.
"You were brought in with anaphylactic shock," the doctor replied. "Luckily, he brought you in time. You were in a stuporous state and almost in respiratory failure. You lost consciousness shortly after you arrived."
"I feel fine now."
"Which means that the epinephrine and diphenhydramine have done their job" he said smiling. "We got you stabilized almost four hours ago but somehow you remained unconscious. He," the doctor nodded to Swash "thought you were in a coma. We just played the waiting game." He smiled, seeming proud of his superior intellect or sense of judgment. I smiled back. I was just happy to be alive.
"So, when can I go home?"
"Hopefully, soon. All your vitals seem normal. We just need to do a quick physical exam to prove that you're not in any physical danger and haven't had any minor neurological damage, and you'll be good to go. Your speech seems perfect, so...mark off cranial nerves ten and twelve..."