I'll see what I can remember about that day. The day when all Hell broke loose. It was like this, Doctor.
They came for me at eight thirty in the morning. On the dot. "They" were two patient transportation orderlies, and "They" were taking me to Radiology for an MRI.
I was in hospital for "sudden onset of back pain with associated weakness and numbness bilaterally" (both legs affected). The medical staff wanted to rule out herniated discs/rule out tumors/rule out any number of diseases that can cause neurological complications. I'd already been x-rayed from head to toe and back again, for good measure. I'm surprised I don't glow. Had blood drawn (and redrawn and redrawn). Had an amusing little test called a myelogram that had me nearly crawling off the table, screaming in pain. And the headache I got afterward just prolonged the agony. It was a real carnival delight, the myelogram. SOMETHING was wrong, that much was revealed, but what? Perhaps the MRI would pin down the definitive problem.
Back to "They." One transportation orderly looked like an abused, scruffy puppy, same sad eyes, long, unkempt brown hair that hung in an uneven shag, especially around his ears. Thin, like he'd missed several meals. The other one was taller, with a powerful, muscular build. Severe haircut, shorn close to his boulder sized head. He had cold, intense ice-blue eyes that seemed to look right through me. Heck with going to Radiology for the MRI. Maybe his eyes could burn right through me and diagnose the problem on the spot. Not a glimmer of friendliness in those eyes or granite hard face. Mean.
"We're ready for you, Mrs. Jackson," the abused puppy said. "You ARE Mrs. Wanda Jackson?" he asked in a puppy dog whine. What if I said "No?" Would he cringe, waiting for a severe scolding? (Baddog!)
"Yes, I'm her. Mrs. Wanda Jackson of 22 Baker Street. Who are you?" Trying to be friendly.
"Get on the gurney," the meaner one said in a brusque, no nonsense, you-better-obey-me-if-you-know-what's-good-for-you manner. "Now. We're runnin late."
"YesSIR!," I joked, gathering the tiny scrap of hospital gown around my ample proportions, trying not to display any of my assets, while firing off a crisp salute that my deceased military father would have been proud of. Mean Face was not amused; nothing could crack the solid rock that composed his visage.
I managed to climb on the gurney with a measure of aplomb and dignity; Puppy covered me with a blanket, and Mean Face strapped me in for the ride. One strap for the mid calf level. One at mid thigh. And just for fun, let's put another at chest level. Let's watch the broad wig out.
Let me tell you something. I am claustrophobic. Severely claustrophobic. Being in teeny tiny spaces, being held down is guaranteed to bring out the baby in my fifty year old person.
"Please--what's with the straps? I can't handle being tied down. Please undo this," I begged, more than a little frantically.
"Do you want to fall off the bed? Shut up, we'll be down to Radiology in just a few minutes," Mean Face said.
"I think I know enough not to roll around on the bed," I said. "I just can't handle these...straps. Please untie me??" Sweat popped out on my forehead, tears popped out of my eyes and squeaked down my cheeks.
"Stop bein a baby," Mean Face ordered. "You're fifty something years old--act yer age." His words whipped out, slapped hard. I really started crying. I was so scared and angry, I started shaking.
"Aw, come on, Ralph," Puppy said, "Have a heart. She's scared to death. Certainly, it couldn't hurt...I'll make sure she doesn't fall off--" That's when Mean Face whirled around and literally growled at his partner. "SHUT. UP. You know the Rules."
"But it's obvious she's terrified..." Puppy whined, cowering. A withering look from Mean Face stopped him in his tracks. "We're at the elevators now. It won't be long."
Great. Elevators rank right up there with being strapped down on my list of Ultimate Terror Inducers.
Little did I realize what horrors awaited in store for me.
Awesome - Onto part 2, then I'm going harleyriding w/ my fiance'- These stories can take up hrs, and the day is Gone. I am enjoying your way of keeping us in suspense. I do wish I could write like this.. YOu are a Professional right, writing your own book to sell... YOu should be... ConGrat's - Lady,Sheee
Karla, when I go to the hospital pre-admit lab this Friday, I won't have any puppy dogs or mean faces. Everyone at my Hospital, St. Francis, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, has respect for every patient. They make sure the patient comes first. Also, no doctor here, would give a claustrophobic patient an MRI wihtout first giving them a valium to calm them down. I haven't read the other parts yet, but if those orderlies worked in St. Francis here, and had attitudes like that, they would be fired. Milwaukee, Wisconsin may not be the beer capitol of the world any more, or the leading dairy state, but our hospital staff at St. Francis is the best that I have been fortunate enough to be cared for by. May the Lord be with you, and at your side always. With much love, peace, & (((HUGS))), your very dear friend in Wisconsin, and sister in Christ our Lord,
Barbara Lynn Terry
"If I have to...Then I may as well be."
Reviewed by Rene Holden
12/21/2004
Karla, what a terrible experience for this character...I like your style.. thanks for your kind encouragement of my work too...Rene Holden
Reviewed by Chuckie Finn
8/18/2004
{{Karla!}} This is frightening! Now please, before I read your second chapter, tell me the truth, Is there one of those charity donation depository cans next to the elevator that says "Pots for Parts?" Yes, I got the goosebumps and it's 86 degrees outside!! Maybe if I just go back to your port and close one eye..I'll just click on over here on Part two for a quick minute and,,,,*smile*
Yikes....I'm waiting for the vampires to arrive and draw blood!
I'll keep reading!!!
BTW...thanks for all the wonderful reviews on my site! Much appreciated!
Chow 4 now...I'm off for Chinese Food and it's Friday the 13th!(now there's a horror story waiting to be written!!! :)
I have written a few of these kind of horror stories and know what scares the crap out of people, and this story is one that does scare the crap out of someone. This one delivers the goods when it comes to horror. I have to read part two now, but this one is a good write just the same.
So glad to see you writing stories again! But WHY did you write something that is GUARANTEED to feed my Nightmare Machine? If I have ANY bad dreams about hospitals or hospital procedures being done on ME, I'm a blamin' YEW!! LOL Scary, intense story that grabbed and didn't let go! And that ending...YIKES!! Enjoyed this hair-raisin' hospital horror story; very well done! BRAVA!~
(((HUGS))) and much love, your twin, Karen Lynn. :D
WEIRD RHODY is a short story collection featuring five strange tales all set in Rhode Island and written by five Rhode Island authors. The anthology is a tribute to H.P. Lovecraft, the Ocean State's famed author of pulp horror.
After Satan negotiates a pact with God and unleashes his army of demons, a secret sect battles a diabolical prophecy that threatens humanity.
Release Date: November 21, 2018
WEIRD RHODY is a short story collection featuring five strange tales all set in Rhode Island and written by five Rhode Island authors. The anthology is a tribute to H.P. Lovecraft, the Ocean State's famed author of pulp horror.
