Author's Note - I know this is long overdue. Really sorry :(
Anyway, here's a little one-shot about a visit to the hospital for Klaus. Don't worry, nothing serious has happened to him :) It's a sort of interim thing for The Child Minder, which I promise I will update soon. I've thought of an idea for the next chapter so you shouldn't have to wait too long!
If you've got questions about anything I've written in this story, feel free to ask them in a PM or review. I don't bite! Also, I hope I've portrayed the goings-on in a hospital right – please tell me if there are things I could change to make it more realistic :)
Disclaimer - I don't own ASOUE.
It was raining, and it was cold. Luckily, the rather bleak and dull weather did not affect the three Baudelaires sitting in the car, who were namely six-year-old Klaus, eight-year-old Violet and Beatrice Baudelaire, their mum, who would rather that she didn't tell you her age up-front (as is the way with most adults).
Anyway, Beatrice was being bombarded with questions from a rather croaky Klaus, who was sitting in the seat directly behind her, and, as Bertrand was at work and therefore unable to deal with the trickier queries from the youngest child, she was left to grip the steering wheel tightly and think of either truthful or (if the truth wouldn't do) fairly plausible answers.
The questions today were particularly difficult to handle, because she was driving him into the doctor's. Klaus had been having fairly frequent cases of tonsillitis, and Beatrice, believing that the best thing to do was to get a doctor's opinion, decided to drive Klaus and Violet in on the first day of their summer holiday (although you wouldn't have thought it was July with the horrible weather outside their car).
"Are they going to use an x-ray, Mummy?"
Beatrice sighed. "No, I don't think so, Klaus dear."
"What about one of the really thick brightly-coloured bandage things? Like Billy at school has?"
"You mean a cast?"
"Yes, that's what I mean. I had a temporary memory lapse."
"Uh... no, dear, they're not. Casts are for broken bones."
(Beatrice was fairly surprised that he didn't know this already, but then again, he was only six.)
"Oh, right."
A pause.
"So my tonsils aren't broken, then?"
"Not in the traditional sense of the word, Klaus."
"OK then."
He was quiet for a few minutes, until Violet, sensing that more questions were a-foot, decided to distract him with a game of I-Spy. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to see through the rain and mist, so that idea fell quite flat.
"Mummy...?"
Klaus's mentality was obviously If all else fails, ask questions, and Beatrice and Violet hadn't failed to notice that.
"Yes, dear?"
"I saw a... a scalpel that on that medical documentary you were watching and it was sharp and pointy and I didn't like it. Are they going to put one of those down my throat?"
"I don't know," replied Beatrice, frowning. And she didn't. If his tonsils needed to be taken out, then yes, the involvement of sharp and pointy things would be inevitable. "Not today, no."
She took a deep breath, wondering how she could explain minor surgery to a very impressionable six-year-old (who would no doubt repeat the details at school and scare just about every child in his class out of their wits).
Klaus stared intently at the back of her head, waiting for a reply, and Violet was beginning to wish that she had gone to work with Dad.
"Klaus, you know what's the matter with you, don't you?"
"Yes. My tonsils have swollen up like balloons. That's what you said."
"Right. And you know why we're coming here?"
"To see what the doctor thinks."
"Good. So, Klaus, if the doctor thinks that your tonsils are too easily infected, he might say that we need to -"
Beatrice stopped abruptly, pondering how she could phrase it in a way that wouldn't completely traumatise the boy. It certainly wouldn't be easy. He got scared at vampires on the television. The thought of some stranger sticking a scalpel down his throat and chopping out what he would might well interpret to be his entire brain would probably be enough to make him have nightmares for the rest of his life.
Beatrice glanced in the mirror at Klaus, who was looking back at her with curious eyes.
"...Might need to... erm..."
She spotted the sign telling her that she was about to pass by the doctor's surgery, and pulled in, saying, "The doctor will explain, Klaus. It'll be fine, sweetheart, I promise."
Beatrice got out of the car, followed by Klaus and Violet. They entered the doctor's surgery. It only took a few minutes to book in and find the room in which they would find the doctor that they needed, much to Beatrice's relief.
Beatrice knocked on the closed door and a voice came from inside.
"Come in!"
She opened the door and they were met by a rather large and jolly doctor who had a big smile and slightly greying hair.
"Hello," she said, smiling her big smile and closing the door behind Beatrice, Klaus and Violet. "The Baudelaires, isn't it?"
"Yes," said Beatrice. "I'm Beatrice, and this is my son, Klaus, and my daughter Violet – although it's Klaus who's got the problem. It's his tonsils, you see. He's been complaining of sore throats that keep coming back, haven't you, and I thought I should get it checked out just in case it's tonsillitis and they need to be removed – oh, OK, you're already..."
While Beatrice was talking, the doctor had got up and was quietly peering down Klaus's throat with a torch, and just seconds later she gave a low whistle and stepped back. She smiled briefly at Beatrice before explaining.
"Those tonsils are like beach balls," she said with a chuckle. "We'll have to get those out pretty quick or you'll have a lot of trouble with those, kid!"
Instead of reacting how most other children would, Klaus's eyes widened behind his glasses and he stepped back towards the wall, as if the otherwise extremely friendly doctor had morphed into some massive horrendous monster.
"You're laughing about it?!" he exclaimed. "What sort of doctor are you? This is a very serious matter and I might report you to the authorities if you – Mum, why are you laughing too? And Vi? What's even going on here -"
Beatrice put her hand on his head, quietening him.
"Sorry," she said. "He's a bit... you know."
The doctor raised her eyebrows with a knowing smile. Beatrice kneeled down in front of Klaus and explained that he was going to have an operation. The boy paled considerably but he wasn't fussing like before, so Beatrice considered her explanation to be a success. When she stood up, the nurse smiled at Klaus and continued with what she was saying before.
"I'll get an operation arranged for whenever you're free – soon as possible would be great, though. You'll only be in hospital for a week or so, Klaus. It shouldn't be too bad."
Klaus glanced up at her, still looking a bit nervous, and gulped. The doctor stepped over to the door, and opened it.
"I think that's it then," she smiled. "I'll get it organised for you."
"Thank you," replied Beatrice. Klaus was standing outside already, all too eager to leave, and Beatrice had to steer Violet (who was examining a stethoscope and muttering to herself) out of the door.
"No problem," said the doctor. "Bye-bye!"
Klaus was booked into the hospital for five days, a week on from his trip to the doctor's surgery. Beatrice was alarmed at how quickly his throat had got worse (it had got so bad he could barely talk), and because having to eat nothing but cold food and spaghetti was really annoying Klaus, Beatrice agreed, although she hated the idea of having Klaus in hospital all on his own.
Klaus understandably wasn't too impressed with the fact that he'd have to stay four nights.
"Mum!" he croaked. "Four whole nights? I don't want to go..."
"Klaus, you've got to," explained Beatrice. "You don't want to have to put up with that sore throat for even longer, do you?"
That was the clincher. Klaus stared at his bedroom floor for a long time. Then, he agreed.
And so it was decided. After hugging Violet and his father goodbye on the morning of his operation, Klaus nervously climbed into the car and Beatrice drove him to the hospital. The boy hugged his backpack to him. It contained all the things he needed – his bear, Reginald (Beatrice would never figure out exactly why the bear was called that), his pyjamas, his book (because, of course, Klaus definitely needed a book), his toothbrush and his glasses case.
They drove in silence, until Beatrice parked up at the hospital. Then, Klaus started to panic.
"Mummy, what if it goes wrong?" he asked quietly, trying not to hurt his throat, as soon as Beatrice opened his car door. She had to squat down to be able to hear him. "What if they chop out... my... my brain or something? Then I won't be able to think, or eat, or read, or talk, or write, or -"
"Klaus, they're not going to chop out your brain," she sighed, exasperated. "Please stop worrying. It's a routine operation. It happens a lot."
"I bet it's some sort of conspiracy or something," he muttered, swinging his feet back and forth, narrowly avoiding Beatrice. "There's thousands of people with their brains chopped out, but they've been replaced with... mechanical brains and they're going to kill us all..."
"I doubt it," smiled Beatrice, standing up, taking Klaus's rucksack and putting it over her shoulder."Come on, sweetheart. You'll be all right. I know it seems like ages, but you'll be in a ward with other children in the same situation as you, and you can talk to them and... and read to pass the time, right? And like I said last night, you'll be asleep during the operation, too. You'll be home again before you know it – and Reginald'll look after you, won't he?"
It had worked for Violet last year with her bear Edward when she went on a school trip, but Klaus wasn't having any of it.
"Mum, he can't look after me," he said seriously, staring at her with solemn eyes behind his glasses. "He's a bear. I look after him."
"Of course. Well, you can pass the time by looking after him, then, can't you?"
"I s'pose," mumbled Klaus. Beatrice offered him her hand and helped him out of the car.
"Come on, then. Let's go."
The masked beings were coming for him... brandishing scalpels, syringes, thermometers, reaching out to grab him and pin him down. He tried to escape, but the theatre door was locked – and they grasped hold of his arms and threw him onto the operating table, strapping him to it as he writhed and wriggled.
A doctor with glowing red eyes put down his scalpel and got a huge bread knife, and held it out towards him, slowly and menacingly approaching... the doctor was going for the boy's screaming mouth -
Klaus wrenched himself upright and had to jam his fist in his mouth to stop himself from crying out. The ward, which he shared with about ten other children, was inky black, the only light being from the nurse's desk lamp at the end of the ward, and he couldn't even see the coarse white bed sheet over his feet. He'd kicked it off the rest of him while he was dreaming about the terrifying red-eyed doctor.
It's just a dream, he thought. It's not real.
Well, he certainly hoped it wasn't. His impending operation, on the third day of his stay in hospital, had been haunting him since he arrived in hospital. It was his first night there, and after an afternoon of being called "four-eyes" and "mummy's boy Klaus" (after a boy on his ward saw Beatrice taking Klaus into the hospital, holding his hand, out of the window), he was struggling to get a good sleep.
If he had been at home, Bertrand would have made him a hot chocolate and they would have gone to the library and his father would have read to him until he fell asleep and had to be carried back to his bedroom.
But he wasn't at home. He was stuck in a scary, pitch-black hospital ward surrounded by strange children and a matron with a big nose. It was the worst possible situation he could imagine, especially since it had transpired that Beatrice or any of his family couldn't come and visit him.
"It usually unsettles the children to have visits," the matron had said firmly, when Beatrice brought him in to the hospital. "It'll upset him."
Beatrice was certain that Klaus would be even more upset without a visit, and tried to argue, but a steely glare from the matron was enough to tell her that there was no point in protesting, so she just said, "Love you, Klaus". Klaus was even more upset, and was trying not to cry as he said told his mum he loved her too and was marched off to his ward, away from everything familiar.
Luckily, things improved the next day.
"Hi," said the new girl in the bed alongside his. "I'm Lei."
Klaus ignored her. He was engrossed in his book.
The girl stared at him, thinking he hadn't heard. Klaus could vaguely see her out of the corner of his eye, and after a minute of it, he found it irritating.
"I did hear," Klaus said suddenly, looking at her. He made her jump, and one of her plaits flicked over her shoulder. She reminded him of one of Violet's friends, who he quite liked, and who wore her hair in plaits, but she was quite small and looked no older than him.
"Sorry," he said.
"It's OK," replied Lei. "You just scared me."
Klaus nodded.
"I'm Klaus," he said.
"Pleased to meet you, Klaus."
She smiled. Klaus smiled. She's quite nice, actually, he thought.
"It's frightening, isn't it?" he said quietly. "Hospital's scary, but you get used to it."
"I know," she said. "I've been in a ward three times before, not counting today."
"Three?!" squeaked Klaus. "How old are you, four? What did you do?"
"I'm five," answered Lei, looking offended. "And it isn't my fault I've been here three times before – well, six, counting the other times I've not had to stay in."
Klaus stared at her, even more surprised. She grinned, looking proud of herself.
"The first time, I broke my wrist when I was three," she said, holding up the arm she broke. "I fell off of my tricycle."
"Wow..."
"Then, a few months later," she continued. "My ap – append – appendi – thingy went wrong, and that had to be taken out."
Klaus was pretty sure he knew what she was going on about, but didn't correct her.
"And then," she carried on, "when I was four, I slipped on the ice and broke my ankle and my elbow. I had to have pins put in."
"Oh no," whispered Klaus.
"It wasn't too painful," she said. "Mummy said I was very brave."
They nodded at each other again, and Lei started talking again.
"Then I broke my finger twice," she said. "That was when I was four too."
Klaus sucked in his breath like his mum did when someone had hurt themselves.
"And finally," said Lei, enjoying Klaus's reactions, "I had to have my tonsils removed, a few months ago."
"That's why I'm here!" gasped Klaus. "My mum said they'd swollen up like balloons."
"Balloons?" whispered Lei in awe. "Ouch, that's painful, isn't it?"
"It is," agreed Klaus solemnly. "I'm having my operation in two days."
His eyes betrayed the 'brave and fearless' exterior he'd tried to put up. Lei saw through it.
"Um... are you nervous?"
"No!" Klaus said importantly. He faltered. "...A little bit. Quite a lot."
"Don't be scared," replied Lei quietly. "I was frightened before my first operation, but it's not that bad. You go to sleep and when you wake up, it's all OK."
"It didn't hurt at all?" asked Klaus. He knew his mother had told him that he would be under anaesthetic but he was happier to hear it from someone else who had actually had the operation.
"Only afterwards. It was sore, but that goes away too in a week or so. Then, it doesn't hurt at all."
She slipped out of her bed and whispered in Klaus's ear, "My sister told me they even give you ice cream afterwards!"
"Ice cream?" breathed Klaus.
"Yes," Lei grinned. "It's not much but it's really nice. She had her tonsils out too. I think it's to make up for not being allowed to have breakfast on the day of your operation, even though I didn't get any after the rest of the times I was here. Maybe it's only for this type of operation."
"Why can't we have breakfast?" asked Klaus, but a nurse spotted Lei out of bed and told her to go back. With an apologetic look at Klaus, she climbed back into her own bed.
"I don't know," she answered, shrugging. "I was really hungry before my other operations, though."
Klaus shrugged too. "So, Lei, why are you here?"
"I need my adenoids taken out," she replied, grimacing.
"What are those?"
"I'm not sure. I think they're in your throat somewhere."
"Like tonsils?"
"Maybe."
They sat in silence for a moment. Klaus's book lay forgotten.
"Erm... Klaus?"
"Yes?"
"Are we friends?"
She was smiling at him earnestly. Klaus decided he liked her.
"We're friends."
Klaus found the next day and the morning of his operation slightly more enjoyable now that he had a friend to talk to. Lei was always cracking jokes and smiling, and Klaus even let her hold Reginald (she especially took a shine to him) and flick through his book, although only to look at the illustrations, because she hadn't started school and so couldn't read particularly well.
Lei's operation was the day before Klaus's. She wasn't nervous at all, and the last thing she said to Klaus before she went was a casual "I'll see you in a bit, Klaus!" with a beaming smile. He watched as she was wheeled to the theatre on a trolley, and he watched as she was lifted back into her bed half an hour later. When she woke up, she grinned at him and even let him have a little bit of her ice cream.
Klaus was pleased to find out that his parents and sister had sent him a card on the morning that he was going to have his operation.
Dear Klaus, it read.
Don't be nervous about your operation, dear. It will be fine. You're coming home soon too, so don't miss us either, because before you know it you'll be back with us again!
We all love you very much,
From Mummy, Daddy and Violet.
"Is it your birthday?" asked Lei, peering over to look at his card.
"No," replied Klaus, itching his collarbone again. He didn't like the weird hospital gown he'd been given to wear at all. "It's because my operation's today."
"Oh, OK," smiled Lei. "I didn't get anything because of my operation."
"Why's that?"
"I think it's because I've had so many operations before. There was no point in sending me anything to make me not nervous, because I'm used to it!"
Klaus gave her a wan smile. He was glad that she was trying to make him feel better, but he still felt as though his stomach had been put through a blender.
Finally, it was time for his operation. Like Lei, who gave him a smile and a thumbs up just before he left, he lay on a trolley and was wheeled down to the operating theatre. His heart was thumping so hard he was certain that it was visible through his hospital gown.
It nearly burst right out of his chest when he entered the theatre itself. He panicked as a doctor put an mask over his mouth and nose.
It's just the anaesthetic, he thought, trying to calm himself down, but another voice in his head was convinced that it was a poisonous gas and was screaming at him, You've got to escape!
His mind went foggy and misty, and he felt extremely tired... he tried to stay awake but he just couldn't hold on...
Then, he woke up.
"Klaus!" called a voice.
Groggily, he turned his head to where the voice was coming from. He saw Lei, grinning at him. He smiled back.
It was over.
He tried to say "Hi" but his throat was so sore he didn't want to. The ice cream he was given definitely helped, though, and as a thanks for letting him have some, he let Lei have a bit.
"The operation wasn't that bad, was it?" she said, savouring her mouthful of ice cream.
Klaus shook his head. His throat pain wasn't as raw now.
"It was... OK," he replied. "Thank you, Lei."
The rest of the week flew by, and before Klaus knew it it was time for Lei to go home. Just before she left, she gave him a piece of paper.
"It's my address," she laughed, looking at Klaus's surprised expression. "Write to me, OK? I'll write back when I learn how to spell properly."
"Thank you," replied Klaus, beaming. "I will."
And later on in the afternoon, Beatrice arrived. His face split into a huge grin when he saw her, and they hugged.
"How are you?" she asked, kissing his forehead.
"My throat hurts," he answered, "but it's fine."
Beatrice put her arm around him as they walked back to the car.
"Mummy?"
Beatrice smiled at Klaus.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
Klaus looked up at her.
"Let's go home."
