*Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!*
"Sir! Open your eyes! Please! Open your eyes! Move your arms or legs if you can hear me!"
"He's coming around. Blood pressure's rising, color's improving, and his heart rate's quickening!"
"Can anyone get a hold of this guy's family, to let him know that he's turned the corner?"
*************************************************************
Bright, piercing light. Noise assaulting his eardrums. A pinching sensation in the back of one of his arms. Endless movement, activity.
Where in the hell am I?? What's going on here?? What is happening to me??
The man in the hospital bed stirs, sending uniform-clad nurses to his side. They look at him with tenderness and concern in their eyes.
"It's okay, sir. You're in the hospital. You had a suspected heart attack. A mild one, but a heart attack just the same. The doctor will be in to talk to you more about what's going on. Please don't be scared; we'll take very good care of you."
Hospital?? Last I knew, I was at the city's Veteran's Day celebration; then everything went black. What in the hell am I doing here in the hospital?? the man thinks to himself.
"It's okay, chere'." A tiny black-haired nurse with snapping, sparkling black eyes smiles down at him, placing a soft, warm hand on his exposed shoulder. "It's going to be alright. Don't worry about a t'ing. We'll take care of you; don't you worry about not'in'." Her warm, French-accented voice pours down on him like warm water; he finds it very soothing.
"Ma'am, I had a heart attack? Is that why I'm hooked up like chuck?" the man inquires, looking at all the wires running underneath his hospital gown.
"Yes, sir. That's wha' the doc says. He'll be in a few minutes to talk to you. My name is Louisiana. I am to be your nurse t'day." the nurse with the black hair says, smiling down at him. "What's your name, sir?"
"Tom. Tom Baker."
"Good. It's nice to meet ya, Tom. Now, tell me somet'in', sir. Were you in the military? 'Cause when they brought you in, y'all had dog tags on. Air Force."
"Yes'm. I was. Was in for over 10 years before I got hit and lost my leg. Now I'm barely survivin' and can't get shit at the VA; they don't do nothin' for me."
"Thank you for your service, sir. Seeing that it is Veteran's Day, I find it a point to t'ank ev'ry Veteran I see." The nurse continues to smile that huge, contagious grin that people can't resist. She seems friendly enough. "'Sides, my papa, he is a Veteran himself. Air Force/Army Air Corps. I can't forget."
"Thank him for his service from this ol' retired Vet", Tom says, grinning. It's hard to smile: his chest feels like an elephant's been using it as a couch; it hurts. His stump is also killing him; it feels like two people are pulling on his leg with all their might.
Tom squeezes his eyes shut as if to try to block out the pain slamming into his brain. "O, God, o, God, it hurts!!" he wails. Tears squeak out from underneath his lids and roll down his pale cheeks.
"What hurts, sir?" Louisiana asks tenderly. "Is there anyt'ing I can do?"
"My leg! My f'ing leg!!" Tom whimpers. He knows his leg is no longer there, but try telling his brain that. His brain has other ideas. Phantom pain, it's called. The limb is gone, but the brain sends pain down to the stump; it still thinks the leg is there; this is the pain that most amputees feel from time to time, some much more than others.
"I'll ask the doctor to see if he can give you somet'in' for the pain."
"You do that, please! I can't stand it; oh, Lord, I can't stand it!!"
The nurse then leaves the room, leaving him alone. The other nurses that were with this little nurse have since left as well. He wonders what will happen next; all that matters now is that he is hurting bad, and he wants nothing more than relief from the searing pain that's coursing through his mangled stump.
*to be continued.*
