Blot #Wattys2015

11

11 - ash

I had always hated the smell of hospitals. Dry soap and rubber gloves mixed with salt and death. Being at a hospital never promised anything good. Yet, there I found myself sitting on one of their uncomfortable beds, annoying hospital gown and all.

I sighed, waiting for the doctor to come back with the results I already knew. An Arrhythmia. Without realizing, just upon thinking about the arrhythmia my hand went to my chest. I put it back in my lap, leaning back onto the flat pillows. My mouth tasted terrible, and my tongue was dry. What kind of nurses didn't come to check and see if you needed water? My eyelids were heavy and my throat was sore. I rubbed my chest, frowning at the small cats printed over and over again on the bed spread. How old did they think I was? I leaned a bit closer, squinting. These were some poorly drawn cats to be printed so many times.

With my phone shattered and my hands still shaking, there wasn't much left for me to do besides think. And of course, the only thing I could think about was the phone call from last night. Steve Earls. A name I wasn't ready to remember. A man I wasn't willing to forgive. How did he have my number? What did he mean "next time you see me"? Bastard knew what would happen when he said it. I hoped he hadn't found Rain, yet. She'd be a wreck. I also hoped Rain's name wasn't a contact on my hospital papers. She didn't need to be here.

According to the doctors, a guy in an off green jacket brought me in last night. They said he wouldn't tell them his name, but he had talked to me minutes before and I had seemed fine. From my deductions, it was boner kid. I'd have to thank him if we ever crossed paths again. At first, they couldn't figure out what had happened to me. But soon, one of their interns threw out the idea of heart palpitations. For some reason the rest of them agreed with her. It was pretty obvious what had happened, but it was clear these doctors and nurses were idiots.

Finally, a man with a gray clipboard walked in, flipping through some papers, "Hello, Mr. Stuart." he greeted, looking up to smile at me. I said nothing. "We took a look at you, and it seems you have an arrhythmia. Were you aware of this?"

"Yes," I said, staring at one of the cats on my bed sheet. It seemed to be moving.

"Do you have previous medical history related to the arrhythmia?"

"Yes,"

"Could you tell me about it?" he asked, trying to get me to open up. I knew doctor tricks. They wanted to get 'close' to their patients. Unfortunately for this guy, I wasn't his patient. I didn't even want to be there.

"No,"

"Alright, buster, I just need you to give me some insight. We want to help you."

"I'm fine," I countered, "I just need some water."

He rolled his eyes, poking his head out of the door, "Susan!" he yelled. A short, stocky woman appeared next to him looking a bit frazzled.

"Yes, sir?" she asked, blowing her hair out of her face. She looked at me and grimaced. "Not another one of those young, cocky patients, Tim, you know how they treat me!"