Suddenly my ears are filled with a hazy feedback, my eyes react and open to find a dark figure looming over me. This figure doesn’t look human, far too square, a silhouette almost reminiscent of the old batman cartoons. I can’t see its eyes but I can feel it looking deep into me. It effortlessly glides closer towards me, my brain is now rattling with that feedback. I try and move my hands to shield my ears from this sound, but they don’t respond Shit not again. What is this that plagues my dreams? Hesitantly I visually scan what I think is this being’s face and look for some eyes to make contact with, but there aren’t any. I shut my eyes hoping that I can ignore this, but I can’t. Unexpectedly a light shines from where this figure’s mouth should be. The feedback is sliced by a shrill scream, a limb begins to materialise and reach out for me, and its long fingers pointing at me just inches away from my face. Light expands into the room filling every void and in a second the figure is gone and the room is flooded with a fluorescent hum.
Out of nowhere a nurse is standing in front of me. Her blonde hair reflects the light giving her a somewhat angelic quality. Beads of sweat have formed on my forehead. I sit forward and suddenly I remember why I am here as a sharp pain shoots through my torso. “Careful” she exclaims, “You’ve just come out of surgery, you know you’re a lucky man”. Is that because you’re my nurse I think to myself, I smile at her, “Maybe I should get someone to buy me a lotto ticket” I sarcastically reply. She goes through her hourly routine, “How is the pain?” she asks, “Would you like something for it?”
“Sure” I say making sure I move causing some self-inflicted pain which is reflected in the expression of discomfort on my face. I wonder if she actually cares how the pain is. The last time I said no they almost seemed disappointed, they are pretty much legitimised drug dealers. It’s not uncommon for medical professionals to get caught up in what they give out. After making sure everything appears normal she hands me a couple pills. I start to think about the theatre nurse we discovered who accidentally over dosed on morphine. Turns out she had been stealing from it work unnoticed for years. I wonder how common the temptation is for the nurses to keep some of the medication for themselves.
“You know a woman came in before to see you” the nurse says while making note of what she had given me. “A woman, who?” I curiously reply, “She was tall, blonde, I think she said her name was Maree” the nurse quietly answers. “Well that’s comforting to know that I have someone out there who cares” I say with a smirk. “Now who wouldn’t care about you” the nurse says with a cheeky grin.
She finishes making her notes then leaves me to the darkness again. I get drawn back into the room. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get any rest lying here surrounded by machines beeping, old men farting and nurses attempting to be quiet. Whatever those pills are, the effects aren’t slow to take hold. My body finally starts to relax and my pain begins to dissipate. Interesting that Maree came into see me, I probably shouldn’t think about it too much.
One of the orderlies walks into the room and quietly begins talking to me “If you’re feeling up to it, would you like some dinner?”
“Sure I’d love some dinner, what have you got?” I reply.
“Just the usual roast mash up” the orderly answers. “Sounds good to me” I answer.
“Why don’t you hop into the seat here and I will get your dinner for you” she asks.
As I cautiously swing my legs off the bed the orderly helps move the trolley thing that I’m attached to so that I don’t become entangled. “Has anyone ever become stuck and strangled themselves in one of these?” I ask.
She gives a bewildered look, “Umm not that I’m aware of” she answers.
I don’t have to wait long before my meal is presented in front of me, which isn’t a good indication to the potential quality of the meal, but it actually looks quite inviting. The tray is occupied by a couple of bits of roast beef, vegetables, mash potato, and there is even a small apple crumble with custard for dessert.
I start with the roast beef, but it only takes a few bites to realise that all is not well. A horrible feeling in my stomach replaces the dull feeling of pain. Suddenly an uncontrollable burp erupts from my gut, I didn’t anticipate that, thinking I’ll try it again, I swallow another mouthful followed by a sip of water. Again the same uncontrollable gas escapes from my mouth.
Knowing that the main course is definitely out of the question I set my sights on the dessert. Apple crumble and custard, how could my body reject that? I pour the thick yellow custard over the crumble. By now my mouth is salivating, the first spoonful is one of hesitation but it stays down, no obnoxious gas related eruptions, so it must be safe to continue. Several spoonful’s later the little white ceramic bowl is empty.
Feeling satisfied with my effort I sit back in the soft lazy-boy, however this feeling is quickly replaced with one of uncertainty. That bloated feeling in my stomach returns and gas suddenly fills my mouth. I open my mouth just slightly and release this unwanted burp, instantly my mouth fills with saliva, past instances remind me that this is not going to be an enjoyable experience. I try and get up but the tray is blocking my escape, even if I could get up that damn tripod thing I’m attached to looks as if it would slow me down. In a panic a look for something deep enough to contain this inevitable stream of regurgitation. Before I can grab something to contain what is about to happen, my stomach unleashes a torrent of vomit all over the floor. I grab the jug of water off the tray and try to catch the remainder of what my body is rejecting. Shit, that did not taste as good coming back up as it did going down. I push the tray out of the way and stumble my way into the bathroom. A glowing green button on the wall indicates the way to get some assistance so I push the button.
I turn the tap on and begin to clean myself up, as I’m doing this two young nurses run into the room. Instantly they are greeted with the intense smell of my vomit and are stopped in their tracks. “Oh my god, that’s disgusting” one of them remarks. They both walk over to where I was sitting and find the pool of fresh warm vomit on the floor. They both seem to be even more shocked to find that the water jug now contains the contents of my stomach. “He even got it in the water jug, yuk!” the other exclaims. Obviously these two haven’t been nurses for long as a little bit of vomit is going to be a walk in the park compared to what the other orifices of the body are capable of ejecting. They haven’t yet come to see if I’m okay yet. Seems a little unprofessional really!
When I emerge from the toilets they both stop there cackling, “Are you okay?” one of them asks. “Yea just a little reaction to the dinner” I reply.
“We’ll get someone to clean it up” the other says.
I sit back down on the bed. In a somewhat agonising attempt I lift my legs into the bed and lie back. One of the cleaners comes into the room and comically asks if I’ve just had an accident. “I sure did, I’m really sorry, I tried to contain most of it in the jug of water but spilled a little.”