Hospitals
Pulling the mask up over her face, she took a deep breath and pushed the door to the ICU room open. The sterile scent of hospital cleansers and the steady beat of the machines greeted her as she entered.
The man who lay in the bed looked nothing like the man she had dinner with 2 evenings prior. His head was shaved. Half of his face was covered in bandages, the half that was visible was swollen and purple. Tubes ran out of and into him. Bags of liquid hang by the side of the bed, their mechanical timers whirring and beeping as they pumped intravenous fluids into his body. A catheter bag was taped to one side of the bed. Another bag was taped to the other side, collecting a dark reddish brown fluid from the tube in his chest.
Her throat constricted, her stomach knotted. She stepped closer and slowly reached for a pair of gloves. Careful not to puncture them with her talons, she slid them over her hands and reached out to lay her hand on his arm.
He was cold, but his flesh was still pliable.
She caressed him softly and pulled up the chair next to the bed and sat there, holding his hand in hers.
"I know that you are in there. I know you are." she said quietly. "I can help you. But you need to tell me that its ok... please..." she whispered.
The machines whirred and beeped and pumped, but there was no reply from Wren Dubois.
She closed her auroral eyes and lay her head on the side of the bed, her hand in his.
And waited.
This message is private and confidential. If you have received it in error, please notify the sender and remove it from your system.
The man who lay in the bed looked nothing like the man she had dinner with 2 evenings prior. His head was shaved. Half of his face was covered in bandages, the half that was visible was swollen and purple. Tubes ran out of and into him. Bags of liquid hang by the side of the bed, their mechanical timers whirring and beeping as they pumped intravenous fluids into his body. A catheter bag was taped to one side of the bed. Another bag was taped to the other side, collecting a dark reddish brown fluid from the tube in his chest.
Her throat constricted, her stomach knotted. She stepped closer and slowly reached for a pair of gloves. Careful not to puncture them with her talons, she slid them over her hands and reached out to lay her hand on his arm.
He was cold, but his flesh was still pliable.
She caressed him softly and pulled up the chair next to the bed and sat there, holding his hand in hers.
"I know that you are in there. I know you are." she said quietly. "I can help you. But you need to tell me that its ok... please..." she whispered.
The machines whirred and beeped and pumped, but there was no reply from Wren Dubois.
She closed her auroral eyes and lay her head on the side of the bed, her hand in his.
And waited.
This message is private and confidential. If you have received it in error, please notify the sender and remove it from your system.