Misty Day MD, thirty-two years old, dermatologist, anesthesiologist and emergency medicine specialist, currently assistant doctor at Lafayette General Hospital, Louisiana and witch with the power of necromancy was strolling down the hallway of the geriatrics ward. It was half an hour behind her finishing time and she already took of her white coat but was still wearing her blue scrubs and her stethoscope around her neck. In order to not get troubled while doing her side job, she left her pager in her locker.
She thought of the young mother in the LD unit, she just left and the tears of joy she shed after Misty handed her living baby back to her. It's face not blue anymore but pink and warm of life. It was crying first but calmed down at once when it felt its mothers skin on its own.
Officially Misty just did her job, she saved lives. She left a quick note on the chart and told the nurse on duty to call the doctor who had signed the death certificate of the baby. Of course Misty herself was not attainable anymore, off of duty.
She smiled to herself satisfied when she heard the call again. She was close. He must be in one of the next rooms. She knew what would happen before she heard the familiar keen beep sound and the noise of a pair of feet running up the hallway behind her. One nurse in light pink scrubs jostled her before she rushed into the room next to the right. Misty entered short after her. She took the chart off the footboard, skimmed it and clenched her teeth. This poor man was ninety-eight-years old. No family, no dependents. He was living in a retirement home. When he had a stroke two days ago, he was taken to hospital immediately. Medication: anticoagulants given intravenous twice a day. Everything's been done. But something made her begin to wonder. Misty knew at once that she should not be here, but this man called her anyway. She looked up to the nurse. She had switched off the sound of the monitor and now only held the dying man's hand.
"He signed a decision to not be kept on life support?" Misty asked.
"Yes, he did this morning. "
Misty put the chart down and closed the room to the hospital room. Then she walked back to the dying patient and held his other hand.
The two women waited. They accompanied him on his way. Feeling his pulse rate decelerate, watching his skin turn grey. Misty took a look onto the monitor which showed a flat line, some zeros and the figure of temperature slowly counting down.
The nurse went off to the window.
"What are you doing?" Misty asked.
"I open the window. I'm sorry, that's a habit of me. His soul can leave this world through an open window."
"You're religious?" Misty asked and took off the stethoscope from around her neck to check the dead man for non-existing vital signs.
The nurse watched the doctor auscultate the body and answered when Misty took the earplugs out of her ears.
"Catholic, just as you I think." The nurse said and handed Misty the chart again.
Misty checked the clock on the wall.
"Time of death: 11:23pm." She took the chart from the nurse's hand and put her initials on it, then filled out the form.
"How do you know?" Misty asked and handed the chart back to the nurse.
"You're Cajun, right?" The nurse signed the paper as well and then put it back on the footboard.
"I can tell from you're accent."
Misty smirked.
"Guilty as judged." She sighed.
The two women smiled at each other.
"I'll call the chief of medicine. You stay with him?"
Misty nodded. She needed time alone with the man. She watched the nurse leave the room, then she sat down on the bed next to the old man's body. She put her hands on his forehead and chin, her facial muscles visibly contracted from her effort to bring the man back to life. Soon she felt his skin get warmer again. She sat upright.
The man smiled at her, still in some kind of delirium.
"Obatala!" he grated.
Misty looked at him confused. She thought for a moment before she blushed smiled at the man awkwardly.
"Oh no…" She shook her head and giggled.
"I called for you." The man took Misty's hand.
"But why?" Misty softly smiled at him. "You're time is over, my friend. You need to let go. You even signed the papers. Why did you call me? Is there something that needs to be done?"
The man shook his head.
"No." he simply said. "I'm just scared."
Misty saw tears running down the man's cheeks.
"Don't worry. It's going to be okay. You'll be free of pain. Healthy and young. You'll leave this world and live on in another in peace within your soul. Now let go." And so he did. He let go of Misty's hand and his skin turned into a dead grey again, just before the door opened and the nurse and another doctor entered the room.
Cordelia Goode MD, neurosurgeon, pharmaceutical chemist and witch with the power of alchemy took a break on the hospitals roof. She was shaking from the chill of the night. Leaning against the banister she took another drag of her cigarette and watched the cars rushing along down the streets like bugs. She was satisfied with her work today. She had to do three operations which all went well. She did her job. She saved lives. She was exhausted but happy. There were some medical reports to write and after that she would leave this building for 24 hours. Man, how she was looking forward to it taking a bath at home, cooking some real good food, watching TV, such simple things as these. She turned around when she heard some steps behind her.
"Dr. Day. Still on duty?" She called out to her co-worker who smiled at her with her chin up.
"Since when do you Dr. Day me?" Misty chuckled and stood next to Cordelia with her back against the banister. She pushed her fists into the pockets of her top, slight goosebumps showing on her forearms.
Cordelia handed her cigarette over to Misty who took it gratefully and took a deep drag. She contorted her face, trying not to cough and turned her face away in order to not get any smoke into her eyes.
Misty gave back to the surgeon.
"Good?" Cordelia asked.
Misty nodded quietly. There was a comfortable silence between the two women. Both stood, their eyes closed. Finding a bit of relaxation after a long day.
"You?" Misty asked finally. She loved the fact that she and Cordelia didn't need much words to communicate. They knew exactly what the other wanted. It was good for work, and even better for their growing friendship.
"Paperwork, half an hour maybe. You?"
Misty shifted when she felt some pain in her back from the cold steel of the banister.
"Nothing. I'll leave now."
"Why did you come up here?" Cordelia watched Misty who was obviously growing uncomfortable. She put her hand an her taller friends shoulder.
"I lost someone." Misty finally spoke.
"It's never going to be a routine, huh?" Cordelia tried to calm Misty.
Misty smiled at the surgeon.
"I mean I lost him voluntarily. I disregarded his wish. He called me, he died, I brought him back and sent him to death again, because I thought that would be his fate."
"Misty we can't save every one. You know that. And you…" She turned to stand in front of Misty to face her."…should stop thinking you can revive every single patient who dies in this hospital. Because that will kill you in the end."
"This is why I denied his wish to live. His time was over and I sent him away. " Misty shook her head. "This is neither my nature nor my job."
They went silent again.
"How many?" Cordelia asked after a minute.
"One newborn boy. " Misty smiled. Cordelia always found a way to make her feel better again. She always knew the right things to ask.
Cordelia took her friends hand. "Promise me to be careful. For one thing this will get suspicious for someone and for the other thing, and this is even more important, it gets you tired and exhausted."
"You tell me I get tired and exhausted? How long did you work today? Thirty hours?" She pushed herself up from the banister and walked to the staircase, leaving Cordelia standing alone. She turned around and backed out. She smiled at her co-worker. "I'm looking forward to our next Goode-Day-shift in two days. I hope you get some sleep until that. Good night Dr. Goode." Misty turned around again and went through the door.
Cordelia laughed a little and threw the burnt-out cigarette over the banister down the building. She silently smiled in thought of her friend and how she adored the strolling way of walking she did.
"Oh my, Dr. Day…" She whispered to herself.