Her brain was a cloudy haze of grogginess and pain.
A long gown draped off her body. The front and back had Velcro to save her dignity—plain medical blue with no pattern was her unwilling style of choice.
Her scabs and raw wounds were wrapped in cotton gauze- a comfortable moisture soothing the pain.
At the upper top of the glass wall was a flat-screen TV. It was newly installed that morning due to her incessant whining and threats to go bat-shit crazy. A show she'd never seen droned on- a trio of men sobbing after eating hot sauce.
Calamity sat with her legs crossed and slightly leaned forward. The back of her gown was open- the cold tickling her pale skin.
The gentle hand of the nurse, who wore a different hazmat suit from yesterday, rested on her shoulder. "Do you mind if we pause the show?" He asked.
"I want a distraction from the fucking spear you're going to shove in my back." She fired back- her voice croaky due to the early morning grogginess. "My face hurts."
The male nurse set a bag of ice on her lap, "Put this on your eye."
"My eye?" She gazed back at him, "Why?"
He flashed an unenthused look through the visor, "Your black eye."
In an immediate reflex- she pressed her fingers against her left eye. Calamity adapted to her pain to the point she forgot about her black eye. "Oh."
The man politely leaned her forward again. She picked up the ice and pressed it against her eye- the frosty bag soothing the hissing pain bulging from the purple inflamed tissue. The pain was exchanged with cold discomfort, but it was welcomed.
Voices from the TV droned on- clogging her senses and stealing her attention with its spell.
"Holy fuck-" The man on the screen coughed, "It's too much, it's too much-"
Another cackled, "You're a literal baby! It's not even that hot."
"IT HURTS-"
"OW!" Calamity hissed and clenched her teeth as a needle poked into her back.
The small metal pushed into her back- deep into her flesh- until it reached a crack through her spinal cord. Her head fell forward as she bore through the discomfort.
A breath she was holding left her as the needle was tentatively pulled out.
"Your anesthetic made that a lot more bearable." The male nurse let her know as he sealed away the small vial of spinal fluid, "You would've been screaming in pain without it."
Spotting the nurse move away from her- she reached back and felt her back, "Comforting..." She muttered lowly.
Nothing was out of the norm- not even a small bump.
"Stop touching it," He warned, "I need to put gauze around your torso."
"Oh, come on..." She groaned, "I already have so much- it's just a small needle anyway!"
He was already unwrapping a role and pushing her hospital gown down her shoulders. "Smaller cuts bleed more because they're too small for the blood to clot," he explained. "There. No more reasons to complain."
She threw her head back and loudly groaned in defeat. The gown fell forward- exposing her breasts to the wind so he could wrap gauze around her torso under the armpits.
"Why'd you even take my spinal fluid?" Calamity asked although it sounded like a demand.
The male nurse secured the white gauze which stuck to her skin. Her back was beginning to ache from hunching forward for a prolonged period.
Blood began to dribble down her back- making her twitch from the ticklish sensation.
"The lyssavirus targets the thalamus, brainstem, and spinal cord- so it's the easiest place to find it." His voice was muffled under the hazmat suit. The man used wipes to clean it up, "We'll also do brain scans at some point today or tomorrow."
She furrowed her brows, "And my saliva?" The woman turned to face him.
His glasses were clouded under the mask- making it difficult for her to see its color.
He nodded, "If it's in your saliva, then it's inflamed your brain and spread to the salivary glands."
She readjusted herself to face him fully, "Inflamed my brain?" Her brows curved with concern- the voices from the TV completely forgotten.
"That's why we want a brain scan." He sorted the vials of saliva, blood, and spinal fluid into a safe container, "I don't know the stages of the virus... but the specialist coming in will know."
She threw her hands up in defeat.
How has she been walking around with an inflamed brain? She didn't... know how to feel. Emotions came to a slow stop inside her- the world's axis coming to a gradual stop.
No wonder no one wanted to be around her without full safety... she was a walking hazard.
Who would want an inflamed brain? Why risk giving her a moment of human connection? The voices around her, including the nurses, got fuzzy.
"I'm... I'm hungry." That was all she managed to get out. "I'm always hungry."
The nurse hadn't noticed her new miserable state of mind. "You're not eating the advised amount of calories you should," He stepped away and pulled a cart toward the bed.
Her eyes slightly widened with interest- tilting her head and flaring her nostrils.
"A werewolf at your weight and age is advised twice the amount a human eats in a day," He told her, "So, in comparison, you're eating like an average human."
20 years ago, few to no health professionals were targeted toward werewolves. The race wasn't known worldwide, so it was a massive risk to specialize in a species meant not to exist.
Werewolf nurses and doctors still existed, but pregnant she-wolves would commonly have to cherry-pick their nurses during deliveries to keep the secret alive. Getting werewolf health advice from a professional was nearly impossible—that's one in a million.
As she dug into her thoughts- he leaned toward the cart.
Two plates of food were revealed with the removal of a serving plate.
On the first plate, a large turkey sandwich with tomato slices, mayonnaise, and white bread welcomed her. Freshly cooked carrot slices sat comfortably next to it.
The second plate was the opposite, with a fillet of salmon topped with lemons next to mashed potatoes and green beans.
"Oh my god..." Her senses jumped for joy at the smell of fresh food. Pain and Roguis were completely forgotten at the sight of her favourite thing in the world... food. She's always happiest when she's eating.
She leaned toward it, "I thought hospital food was supposed to be dog shit..."
The male nurse pushed the cart toward her bed until it was pressed beside it, "As far as I know, it's always been good?"
Calamity wasted no time. She stole the turkey sandwich and wolfed it down like a starving dog on the street- her hands trembling with undefeatable hunger. It gave her unfeasible joy- focusing purely on the euphoria of eating.
The carrots were another thing. Steamed carrots seasoned with parsley and pepper... it enhanced the flavour of the vegetable amazingly.
She spotted an unknown thick pink liquid next to a glass of water. With hopeful naivety- she gulped it down.
It was a smoothie filled to the brim with raspberries and blueberries- a refreshing, thick drink that contrasts the meat and fish.
When she picked up her head- Calamity suddenly noticed she was alone in the room.
The male nurse had left, even went through the desensitization room, and thrown his hazmat suit into a bin of dirty ones. There wasn't a single person, including cameras, left to watch anything she was doing.
As she scarfed down the rest of her food- her eyes settled on the tall closed window, letting the sun in... and noticed that it could be opened.
Calamity had an idea.