Marta walked along the hospital halls, making her rounds. She hummed a little tune to herself, and stopped occasionally to rub her sore back. Her sneakers were worn out under her pink scrubs. It was time for a new pair.
It was late in the night, and the lights were dimmed. She tried not to make much noise as she entered each room. Being in the hospital was difficult enough without being woken up several times a night. She checked charts, and IV levels; took pulses.. Most patients slept peacefully, or stirred as she entered, bothered by the strange noises and the scratchy sheets.
She had worked overnights for years and never minded. She was alone when she got home, except an elderly cat, and most of her family didn’t live nearby. She liked the quiet. Her rhythms were long attuned to staying up all night and sleeping all day. She liked comforting patients who were lonely in the night.
And Henry was one such patient. He was newly admitted, and according to his chart, was not long for this world. He had a litany of conditions and medications. His family hadn’t visited. And she found him that night, huddling under the blankets, wide awake.
“Good evening, Mr. Delano. Still awake?” She smiled at him. He did not return it.
“I miss my bed.” He muttered. “How can anybody sleep with all these damned beeps?”
“I know. It can be difficult.” She smiled again, adjusting his pillow. “Would you like something to help you sleep?”
“A sleeping pill?” He turned over.
“Yes, sleeping medication. I can put it right into your IV tube. Would you like that?”
“Yes.”
Marta injected an air bubble into his IV. He died gently, and she swept out to the next patient like an owl.
Gracia Whitney is an educator and writer living in the Richmond, VA area. When she's not writing poems and scary stories, she enjoys time with her family and two cats.
I like your style and I certainly didn't see that ending coming! Wow!
ReplyDelete