Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate and it's surrounding properties. Those rights belong to Gekko, RDA etc.
If you would like to borrow this story, please ask first. Thanks!
Fictional piece inspired by my recent stay in the hospital.
Names, ages and dates have been changed to protect the innocent! :D LOL
*****************************************
"You have very pretty hair."
Groggily, I mumbled, "Thank you," too tired to care as the mysterious
hand continued to stroke my hair and forehead. Struggling to keep my
eyes open, I lifted a hand to the back of my head and to my dismay,
realized how matted it was. Oh yeah, it must look very pretty indeed.
Vaguely, I remember feeling his hand briskly rub the hair on my right
arm. "You have such hairy arms!" Thanks a lot mister, I wanted to
mumble.
"You're doing great." The warm voice faded into oblivion as I fell back
into a deep sleep.
I awoke once more to this strange man smiling down at me. "My
name's Jack. Why don't we take these off." I watched dazedly as he
began to remove the electrodes off my shoulder and upper chest.
Sleepily, I smiled. "Thank you. Nice to meet you sir." All of a sudden,
I felt his hand rest hesitantly at my side, my skin cold.
"Um, maybe you should try getting that one." I smiled inwardly as I
reached down my gown, and pulled the plastic piece off my skin.
"So, are you in the medical profession?" I heard Jack ask me.
I looked up at him, a little surprised. I wanted to laugh, but the idea
was too tiresome to entertain. "Yes and no. I have the title Dr. before
my name, but am more of a scientist and explorer," I explained.
"Really? Hmm. . . Because of your eloquent, concise speech, I
presumed you were more deeply entrenched in the medical profession."
Jack rubbed my left arm vigorously. "I can't believe how hairy your
arms are!" he commented in astonishment.
I grinned. "At least it's not black, then it would really be noticeable," I
commented dryly. Licking my lips, I turned my head . . .
"Here, let me get you something to drink. I'll be right back." He
wasted no time in returning. Jack even arrived before my friend, Janet,
who went to fetch me a cup of blue jello.
"That was the last one," Janet announced. Her brow crinkling, she
asked, "How do you feel?"
"Good, but I think I need more sleep," I admitted, taking a sip of the
Ginger Ale that Jack held out to me.
Janet regarded the man curiously, and offered her hand to him. "My
name is Janet. I am a good friend of Sam's. I take it you've been keeping
an eye on her while I was gone," Janet commented, a mischievous glint in
her eye.
Shuffling his feet uncomfortably, he nodded. "She has been a good
patient."
"Really, she never behaves that well when I take care of her."
I struggled to keep awake for just a few more minutes. "Oh that's right,
Janet is the genuine doctor here. She speaks volumes more techno
babble, I mean eloquence, than I." Snuggling into the sheets, comfortable
sleep overtook me once more.
Rising from the throes of sleep, I asked, "Janet what time is it? I think I
am ready to leave."
"Ten minutes to 4:00."
My eyes widened. "That late?" Quickly, I sent an apologetic look Jack's
way. "Everyone has been very nice and all, but I would really like to leave
the hospital. I think I have spent long enough here." He just nodded and
smiled. He strode over to my bed and helped me sit up. He was more
concerned about keeping me well covered than I was. Indifferently, I
noticed as he easily pulled the gown past my knees. After Jack helped me
into the wheelchair waiting at my bedside, he began pulling off the tape
holding my I.V. in place. Ouch! He just ripped them off in one smooth
motion. Easy for him, but hard for me. Did he forget that I have hair
there, I most certainly think not. Now the key word is, had. I tried to
subtly examine my wrist in the dim light. All of a sudden, even though I
didn't feel it, I realized he had pulled out my I.V. My stomach began to
churn, as a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. "I, I don't feel so good,"
I said weakly. Quickly, he grabbed a wet washcloth and pressed it to my
forehead.
"Needles and I don't get along too well," I muttered.
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. I didn't expect my reaction to the I.V. to be so . . .
unfavorable." I stared at the washcloth in my hands and repositioned it on
my forehead. "I'll be fine. I just need to sit here for a few more minutes.
Then I can get dressed and get out of here soon."
Slowly, I reached into the plastic bag at my side and pulled out my
socks. Carefully, I pulled them on when another wave of nausea hit me.
Worriedly, Janet helped me back into bed. "I think I need to lie down just
a little more . . ." Before I knew it, I was asleep again.
When I awoke, my stomach rumbled. "Janet, may I have a
butterscotch pudding?"
She smiled. "I'll be right back."
Just then, Jack stepped inside the curtained entrance. "So, what do you
like to do in your spare time?"
"Go roller-skating, though I haven't done that in quite a while, and go
to the movies," I finished with a smile.
"I have gone bowling and like to play pool. How about you, have you
ever played pool before?"
"Not really, although I have gone bowling a couple of times. Gotten a
few strikes as well as my share of gutter balls, so I wouldn't call myself
good at it."
"I have a pool table at home. Pool is not a very strenuous activity.
Once you learn the rules, just like in tennis or shooting, you develop your
own style to match."
I beamed. "Like a strategy game of sorts. I like the sound of that."
"Does most of your family live in the vicinity?"
I shrugged. "Sometimes." Okay, he gave me quite an inquisitive look
on that remark. "Dad is in and out you know."
"Oh, on the move often," he nodded understandingly.
"Yeah."
He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "I
just broke up with my girlfriend and I don't really have any close relatives
nearby, so it gets a bit lonely sometimes."
I gave him a sympathetic look. "It must be awkward, since you just
broke up with your girlfriend. It's hard to cultivate a relationship
sometimes."
He shrugged. "I'm moving on. Sometimes, guys just need to break
away and do their own thing, ya know?" I scowled. Commitment not
agreeing with you eh? Fortunately for him, Janet picked the perfect time
to come back in with my butterscotch pudding.
In a hurry to leave, I gobbled down my pudding and sipped insistently
at my ginger ale, wherein Jack took his cue to leave. Slowly but surely, I
got dressed, finally buttoning up my shirt and tying my shoes. Once
more, Jack appeared and helped me into the wheelchair.
"I expected to miss ya, since I was supposed to eat lunch a little while
ago, but problems with another patient," he trailed off, as he wheeled me
out of the room and down the hall.
"I'll bring the van around," Janet announced as he pushed me through
the sliding doors and outside. It felt so good to feel the sun's warmth on
my chilled skin. I watched Jack lean against the pillar, under the
overhang. As I waited none-to-patiently for the van to come around, I
read his nametag.
A jolt of surprise hit me as I asked, "How long have
you been a nurse?"
He shrugged. "Since 1979. At 53 years old, I can't see myself doing
anything else."
For the first time that day, I sat back and really took the time to
scrutinize the man in front of me. Tall, dark-haired, nice smile. Slouched
against the pillar, the sunlight filtering through his hair, made it easy to
see the flecks of gray coming through. Salt and pepper, very
distinguishing, and he most certainly looked younger than his fifty-three
years. Made me re-think my rule about not dating men close to 20 years
my senior. All of a sudden, the van was at the curb and Jack was helping
me into the vehicle.
Distracted, I didn't feel the slip of paper he slipped into my pocket. As
Janet pulled away from the curb, I found myself looking back at his
solitary figure.
"You know, most nurses don't give that much individual attention. Nor
do they take the patient out to their own car. Normally, they ask a
volunteer to do so."
"Maybe you're right," I spoke carefully, pulling the white paper out of
my pocket. Staring at the seven-digit number with a smile, I said, "Rather
than see him for post operative bi-lateral jaw joint surgery, I am sure I
could visit him here under more pleasant circumstances. A game or two
of pool maybe." I smiled like the cat who had just eaten the canary, at
the look of astonishment on Janet's face.
If you would like to borrow this story, please ask first. Thanks!
Fictional piece inspired by my recent stay in the hospital.
Names, ages and dates have been changed to protect the innocent! :D LOL
*****************************************
"You have very pretty hair."
Groggily, I mumbled, "Thank you," too tired to care as the mysterious
hand continued to stroke my hair and forehead. Struggling to keep my
eyes open, I lifted a hand to the back of my head and to my dismay,
realized how matted it was. Oh yeah, it must look very pretty indeed.
Vaguely, I remember feeling his hand briskly rub the hair on my right
arm. "You have such hairy arms!" Thanks a lot mister, I wanted to
mumble.
"You're doing great." The warm voice faded into oblivion as I fell back
into a deep sleep.
I awoke once more to this strange man smiling down at me. "My
name's Jack. Why don't we take these off." I watched dazedly as he
began to remove the electrodes off my shoulder and upper chest.
Sleepily, I smiled. "Thank you. Nice to meet you sir." All of a sudden,
I felt his hand rest hesitantly at my side, my skin cold.
"Um, maybe you should try getting that one." I smiled inwardly as I
reached down my gown, and pulled the plastic piece off my skin.
"So, are you in the medical profession?" I heard Jack ask me.
I looked up at him, a little surprised. I wanted to laugh, but the idea
was too tiresome to entertain. "Yes and no. I have the title Dr. before
my name, but am more of a scientist and explorer," I explained.
"Really? Hmm. . . Because of your eloquent, concise speech, I
presumed you were more deeply entrenched in the medical profession."
Jack rubbed my left arm vigorously. "I can't believe how hairy your
arms are!" he commented in astonishment.
I grinned. "At least it's not black, then it would really be noticeable," I
commented dryly. Licking my lips, I turned my head . . .
"Here, let me get you something to drink. I'll be right back." He
wasted no time in returning. Jack even arrived before my friend, Janet,
who went to fetch me a cup of blue jello.
"That was the last one," Janet announced. Her brow crinkling, she
asked, "How do you feel?"
"Good, but I think I need more sleep," I admitted, taking a sip of the
Ginger Ale that Jack held out to me.
Janet regarded the man curiously, and offered her hand to him. "My
name is Janet. I am a good friend of Sam's. I take it you've been keeping
an eye on her while I was gone," Janet commented, a mischievous glint in
her eye.
Shuffling his feet uncomfortably, he nodded. "She has been a good
patient."
"Really, she never behaves that well when I take care of her."
I struggled to keep awake for just a few more minutes. "Oh that's right,
Janet is the genuine doctor here. She speaks volumes more techno
babble, I mean eloquence, than I." Snuggling into the sheets, comfortable
sleep overtook me once more.
Rising from the throes of sleep, I asked, "Janet what time is it? I think I
am ready to leave."
"Ten minutes to 4:00."
My eyes widened. "That late?" Quickly, I sent an apologetic look Jack's
way. "Everyone has been very nice and all, but I would really like to leave
the hospital. I think I have spent long enough here." He just nodded and
smiled. He strode over to my bed and helped me sit up. He was more
concerned about keeping me well covered than I was. Indifferently, I
noticed as he easily pulled the gown past my knees. After Jack helped me
into the wheelchair waiting at my bedside, he began pulling off the tape
holding my I.V. in place. Ouch! He just ripped them off in one smooth
motion. Easy for him, but hard for me. Did he forget that I have hair
there, I most certainly think not. Now the key word is, had. I tried to
subtly examine my wrist in the dim light. All of a sudden, even though I
didn't feel it, I realized he had pulled out my I.V. My stomach began to
churn, as a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. "I, I don't feel so good,"
I said weakly. Quickly, he grabbed a wet washcloth and pressed it to my
forehead.
"Needles and I don't get along too well," I muttered.
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. I didn't expect my reaction to the I.V. to be so . . .
unfavorable." I stared at the washcloth in my hands and repositioned it on
my forehead. "I'll be fine. I just need to sit here for a few more minutes.
Then I can get dressed and get out of here soon."
Slowly, I reached into the plastic bag at my side and pulled out my
socks. Carefully, I pulled them on when another wave of nausea hit me.
Worriedly, Janet helped me back into bed. "I think I need to lie down just
a little more . . ." Before I knew it, I was asleep again.
When I awoke, my stomach rumbled. "Janet, may I have a
butterscotch pudding?"
She smiled. "I'll be right back."
Just then, Jack stepped inside the curtained entrance. "So, what do you
like to do in your spare time?"
"Go roller-skating, though I haven't done that in quite a while, and go
to the movies," I finished with a smile.
"I have gone bowling and like to play pool. How about you, have you
ever played pool before?"
"Not really, although I have gone bowling a couple of times. Gotten a
few strikes as well as my share of gutter balls, so I wouldn't call myself
good at it."
"I have a pool table at home. Pool is not a very strenuous activity.
Once you learn the rules, just like in tennis or shooting, you develop your
own style to match."
I beamed. "Like a strategy game of sorts. I like the sound of that."
"Does most of your family live in the vicinity?"
I shrugged. "Sometimes." Okay, he gave me quite an inquisitive look
on that remark. "Dad is in and out you know."
"Oh, on the move often," he nodded understandingly.
"Yeah."
He leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "I
just broke up with my girlfriend and I don't really have any close relatives
nearby, so it gets a bit lonely sometimes."
I gave him a sympathetic look. "It must be awkward, since you just
broke up with your girlfriend. It's hard to cultivate a relationship
sometimes."
He shrugged. "I'm moving on. Sometimes, guys just need to break
away and do their own thing, ya know?" I scowled. Commitment not
agreeing with you eh? Fortunately for him, Janet picked the perfect time
to come back in with my butterscotch pudding.
In a hurry to leave, I gobbled down my pudding and sipped insistently
at my ginger ale, wherein Jack took his cue to leave. Slowly but surely, I
got dressed, finally buttoning up my shirt and tying my shoes. Once
more, Jack appeared and helped me into the wheelchair.
"I expected to miss ya, since I was supposed to eat lunch a little while
ago, but problems with another patient," he trailed off, as he wheeled me
out of the room and down the hall.
"I'll bring the van around," Janet announced as he pushed me through
the sliding doors and outside. It felt so good to feel the sun's warmth on
my chilled skin. I watched Jack lean against the pillar, under the
overhang. As I waited none-to-patiently for the van to come around, I
read his nametag.
A jolt of surprise hit me as I asked, "How long have
you been a nurse?"
He shrugged. "Since 1979. At 53 years old, I can't see myself doing
anything else."
For the first time that day, I sat back and really took the time to
scrutinize the man in front of me. Tall, dark-haired, nice smile. Slouched
against the pillar, the sunlight filtering through his hair, made it easy to
see the flecks of gray coming through. Salt and pepper, very
distinguishing, and he most certainly looked younger than his fifty-three
years. Made me re-think my rule about not dating men close to 20 years
my senior. All of a sudden, the van was at the curb and Jack was helping
me into the vehicle.
Distracted, I didn't feel the slip of paper he slipped into my pocket. As
Janet pulled away from the curb, I found myself looking back at his
solitary figure.
"You know, most nurses don't give that much individual attention. Nor
do they take the patient out to their own car. Normally, they ask a
volunteer to do so."
"Maybe you're right," I spoke carefully, pulling the white paper out of
my pocket. Staring at the seven-digit number with a smile, I said, "Rather
than see him for post operative bi-lateral jaw joint surgery, I am sure I
could visit him here under more pleasant circumstances. A game or two
of pool maybe." I smiled like the cat who had just eaten the canary, at
the look of astonishment on Janet's face.