This is the second part of the story of a stroke. The first part you can find here. I considered to call this part Strike but that could give misleading associations?!
More corridors with bright artificial light. The hospital architects should be forced to ride in a bed along the corridors. They might come up with a better idea for lighting that does not poke patients eyes. Some decorations in the ceilings perhaps? He was laying there with the early signs of boredom and anxiety of what was happening in his brain. Also this time he lost count of the lights as the orderly wide-charged the corners.
Arriving in the ward he had to tell the story again to yet another nurse. The emphatic nurse heard his loud complaining stomach and offered something to eat. After the stomach has settled down he was taken in to a room. Now is past midnight but the room was not silent. Had he arrived in the engine room? Maybe a sawmill? No it was his new roommates snoring! Call the Work Safety Officer, earplugs needed! He was tired so he managed to doze off. Only to be woken up by the night shift nurses coming to draw some blood and measure the blood pressure. This goes on every two hours until the morning. They let people know it is not a hotel.
At six o’clock new nurses comes in and start drawing blood. He asked the nurse if the blood bank at the hospital was running low? The nurse only answered by showing her fangs (was there blood?). Almost like hearing a silent alarm the nurses was simultaneously ready with him and his roommates and went out the door with a wooshing sound. As the door closed it fell down from the ceiling. Boredom! He lay there with his arm folds looking like a teenagers face from all the needles. It is Amazing how much sound the human body from four older men can produce without anybody saying anything. Again he was thinking about having some art in the ceilings. There should be a hash tagg #hospitalceilingart!
The Doom of Boring
The door opens. Strange that the doors closes with a silent woosh but opens with a bang! A nurse comes in and attaches him to a portable heart monitor. Gluing on the sensors at his chest. Later when they came of he wished he had gone over his chest with the razor. At least the nurse tells him he can wander around in the corridors of the ward. He soon realized that the monitor was there to make sure he did not leave the ward. Too far away from the ward the monitor set of an alarm. Now it came at him from three angles, the ceiling and each end of the corridor. Boredoom!
The only thing breaking the looooooong hours was the ever occurring blood drawing and pressure measuring. He never thought that breakfast, lunch and dinner would be such highlights of a day. Even when he was taken away by an orderly to a new test with a machine going “ping” or “pong”. He was amazed by how far into his body the probes could reach. As a Star Trek fan he found his dream come true when entering the loudest machine in the hospital. That is apart from his roommates. The Magnetic Resonance Imaging Machine (IMR)! At least he was offered earmuffs for the sound. The result was that the ears was the only part of his body not going blue from cold. He was pleased to hear they found something in his head! Not so rude at this machine!
Not so pleased when the doctor later told him they could confirm that he suffered a smal, but yet a stroke. The words hit him like punch right in the face. Would he now turn into a walking zombie like the other patients in the ward? They reassured him that he would probably be fully recovered but they needed some more test to figure out why he had this stroke. He was convinced the nurses only wanted him to stay since he was the youngest inmate, no sorry, patient in the ward.
Needles and pins
He had to spend a few more days at the hospital to find out how many differents sizes of needles there is before he was sent home. Finally this is over he thought. Just before he was leaving the doctor gave him a long list of medicines he needed to eat for the rest of his life. So this was the reason for all the probing, to make sure the pills would fit the throat. As he went of in the Taxi did he not see the doctor carrying a golf bag with a medical company logo?
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