The Hospital

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
This was based on a dream I had-enjoy!

Submitted: June 10, 2017

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Submitted: June 10, 2017

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The Hospital

As I was sitting in the hospital’s emergency room, someone asked me what happened.  So as I recalled, I answered.  “Well, I was showing off, trying to show people that I was better.  I performed a stunt, it was cool and everyone cheered, then I placed my foot in the wrong place and the rest is history, now I’m here.”  Just then, I was called in to see a Dr. Wes Freidman; right off, I got the impression that he was Superman.  Upon my entering the room, he looked up and greeted me politely.  “Hello, Ms. Soweto. Please have a seat in this chair.”  I hobbled over to a large chair he was pointing at which looked more like a dentist office chair.  “Hmm, I can see you are having trouble with your leg, huh?”  He insinuated.  “Yes, I’m a bit of a badass.”  He looked at me with an odd expression.  “Daredevil?” I clarified.  He nodded and came over to me with a set of tools, then positioned my leg up higher than my other leg, right in front of him.  The tools on the table beside us looked insane, but for some reason I trusted him.  “I’m going to give you something very strong so you won’t feel anything below this knee, Ok?” he said to me.  “Ok.” Was all I said starting to feel nervous.  He punctured my foot with a large needle and instantly as he’d promised, I didn’t feel a thing.  He noticed my expression and smiled.  Then he picked up a tool that resembled a saw and sawed off the apparatus that I had acquired during my show off stunt. He took bits of my skin with it; the skin looked dead like it didn’t belong to me.  He set the bone and I heard myself half wince half chuckle, it tickled.  “We’re almost done, hang in there.” He informed me as he took out a large needle and a thread used for stitching and promptly stitched up my foot.  Then as a courtesy, he began to buffer my feet and file my toes with a nail file.  This last act made me laugh out loud, that caused me to move my foot a little and he stopped to look at me and said,  “Please keep your feet still, almost done.”  “But why? I asked when you’re so funny.”  He smiled a little then.  He finished up, and I noticed that there was a huge mess beside him, had no idea how much it took to clean me up, did I?

When he finished cleaning up and I placed my foot down, my foot looked better than ever.  “Wow.” Was all I could say.  He just stood up and patted my shoulder and said, “You’re welcome Ms. Soweto.”  “Oh, please call me Pamela.”  “Ok. So what else ails you?”  He asked looking at me closely, I didn’t answer trying to think, but he spoke up first. 

“You have pain in your ear?” he asked automatically. “Huh?”  “You keep, trying to yawn, I know what that means.”  He then stood up quickly and went to grab a tray full of items I had never seen before, then placed them down in front of me.  First, he pulled out a needle, smaller than the one he had placed in my leg but still considerably big.  “I’m going to place this in your inner ear, and release fluid that is trapped there, you’ll want to see this.” He adds.  I nod and he moves to place the needle in my ear, I wince at the sensation and just then he pulls it out and there’s a discolored liquid in the needle’s pouch, he does the same to my other ear without saying a word, then announces, “This, from years of iPods.”  “What! No!”  I say loudly.  “Umm, Hmm.” He says chuckling a bit at my response.  “You can still listen, but you’ll have to come see me again.”  He finishes up and looks up at me with his arms folded on his lap, “Next.”  And again before I answer he says, “Ahh, your left eye.”  He says as he raises one finger in the air and stands up again to go to the back of the room.  This time he comes out with binoculars and a light.  He places the binoculars on his face and leans over me and begins shining the light in my eyes, first the right eye then the left. He stays on the weaker eye a little longer then promptly stands up and says, “I want to remove it.”  “Oh, no way!” I half yell, but he doesn’t seem to notice.  “No, dear, I want to look at it, you see I have a colleague and this will definitely be of interest to him.”  “Why?” I ask.  “Oh he loves the arbitrary problem, he says trying to sound logical, and yours is no exception.”  “So, I have to have surgery then?”  “No, no need, we can do it right here.” 

I practically jump out of the chair he has me on and try to leave, he is standing in front of me and looks unfeigned by my behavior.  I wait for him to say something but he says nothing, he is just standing there with a needle and a thread in each hand.  “YOU-ARE-NOT-DOING-THAT!” I say enunciating every word.  “Oh, darling, slow down, and let me work on you.” He says it in such a way that all I’m prompted to say is, “Ok.” And I hop back onto the chair quickly and lie face up, he then leans down to me and says as he’s positioning the needle, “How’d you get to be so pretty?” More like a statement than a question.  The next thing I know, I’m sitting up in the chair with a patch over the left side of my face.  After he cleans up he says, “I’ll need you to rest a bit, then come in for surgery, so I can place in your prosthetic eye.  Sound Good?”  “Yes, Sir.” Is all I can say.  “Good. Talk to my nurse outside to schedule an appointment.” And with that, I move to leave.  As I’m walking out he meets me at the door and leans into me and gives me a small hug then flashes me his most gorgeous smile and says, “I’ll be so glad to see you soon Pamela.”


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