MEDICINE ➤ SPENCER REID

ONE

"Human touch - the meeting of eyes, the exchanging of words - is the psyche what oxygen is to the brain. If you're feeling abandoned by the world, interact with anyone you can." - Martha Beck.

* * *

Louise Robyn Ashfield coughed. Painfully; with her ribcage screaming as each cough pulled more and more air from her already damaged lungs, causing her glassy eyes to water.

She sighed, leaning back into her hospital bed, and decided on putting back on the nasal cannula that she was almost dependent on by now. With shaky hands, Louise fiddled with the tube of plastic that contained oxygen, and swiftly placed it under her nose; instantly being able to breathe better.

Louise was back in hospital again. It was no surprise now to her friends and family, seeming on how she spent most of her life there. But after around a year of her Cystic Fibrosis remaining calm for once, it had taken one stupid fever to make it go haywire again. Louise was instantly admitted into hospital, hoping for the nurses to decrease the chances of the fever fighting against her lungs until they gave out.

Louise grunted, exhaling deeply, wanting the sensation of a new cough to go away. She chewed on her lip, fingers tapping against her thigh as she sat cross-legged in the comfortable hospital bed that had basically became her bed for the past few weeks. Louise was becoming bored; bored of taking her medication everyday, bored of waking up in the same four white walls each morning, and bored because she could not see her friends.

So Louise grabbed her small oxygen tank, that was held in a brown leather bag, and swung it around her shoulder - trying her best to not pull on the chord that connected from her nose to the tank.
Sliding on some shoes, Louise reached for her hospital room door. With a heave, she yanked it open and instantly smiled.

She smiled at the sight of the nurses, the patients and the life that continued around her. Stepping out of her room, Louise looked around the ward she was on; which held blue walls and pristine white flooring - a few posters about 'washing hands' were plastered around the walls too, on show for anyone passing by.

Passing down the wide corridors, Louise smiled as people walked by; waving to some nurses along her way, and the occasional 'hello'.

"Morning, Louise," a nurse chuckled, seeing as Louise skimmed her way past people in her casual sweatpants and oversized sweater, a brown bag also hung on her shoulder.
"Morning," the girl beamed back, a chuckle also rising against her lips as she paced the corridors.

It was safe to say Louise Robyn Ashfield loved life. Although she had spent only twenty-one years on this Earth, she loved every second of it; even from heaving up thick pieces of mucus from her lungs, to messing around in the small coffee shop she worked in - with her closest friends, of course.
Yet, at times, Louise did understand on how life could be unfair; a great example would be the Cystic Fibrosis she was born with.

Cystic Fibrosis disrupts the digestive system in peoples bodies; most specifically the lungs - and the disease leaves people coughing up mucus that is constantly producing in their lungs and organs; filling her body up each day, almost drowning her in its own fluids. But with constant medication and treatment, the disease can settle; and had only really properly settled for Louise last year - but after a contracting fever a few weeks ago, the worst of Cystic Fibrosis all came back again.

Recently, it has left Louise heaving up clumps of mucus - and has left her in hospital. But she is determined to fight off the fever; and is hoping to return back to work as soon as she can. But first, Louise needs to fight. Fight; and nobody will stop her.