Cold
By Alyssa
Yellowbrick_1@hotmail.com
Rating: PG13, better be safe
Disclaimer: "I, Alyssa, do solemnly swear…." Turns briefly to look behind her at the man holding a gun to her back. She clears her throat and continues, "That I do not own any of the characters from the hit show 'ER'." Apparently having finished her job she feels the pressure of the barrel leaving her back.
Dave looked into the young man's sad eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked Mike Sturgeon. Mike only nodded. "Okay," Dave answered, "Then I'll get you the forms." He left the room slowly, trying to delay; trying to give Mike time to change his mind. He walked over to the admit desk, and told Randi to find him a DNR form. Then he headed straight to the bathroom.
He always hated cases like this: young patients, giving up on life. He looked at himself in the mirror, and thought briefly about why he deserved to live and that other man didn't. He shook it off; as a doctor, he couldn't think about those things, simply because they happen too often. He left the bathroom and returned to the admit desk.
"Did you find them?" He asked Randi.
"Yep." She answered, sticking her hand out, but keeping her eyes on her magazine. Dave took them and headed back to Mike's room. He slipped a pen out of his pocket and then pushed open the door.
"Do you want me to sit you up?" Dave asked Mike.
"Sure." Mike answered, his voice only carrying the smallest hint of anxiety. Dave looked at him straight in the eyes while he handed over the papers.
"I want you to think about this, Mike. There are always new studies..."
"I've had enough studies." Mike interrupted him. "I'll leave them for somebody else." Dave nodded and handed over the pen. Mike gave him a grim smile and took it in a shaky hand. "This is really what I want. I don't want to go through it anymore."
"I understand." Dave nodded. He didn't, he really didn't; why would someone want to die?
Mike held the pen out for Dave and slipped the papers towards him again. He smiled again, more genuine.
"You can take it back anytime you want." Dave told him. Mike nodded.
"I know, but I won't want to."
"Ok." Dave paused a moment, then grabbed the papers. "I'll go turn these in, and I'll check in on you later."
"Don't worry about me, doc."
"Just sit tight and don't cause too much trouble." Dave flashed him a smile, and left the room.
Dave took a deep breath: only two hours left. He erased his last patients name off the board and headed for another chart. Suddenly, there was beeping and Haleh yelled to Dave.
"Who is it?" Dave asked.
"Mike." Haleh answered.
Dave cursed under his breath and he sprinted off towards Mike's room. The heart monitor was beeping loudly, and Mike lie silently on his bed. Dave walked over to him, and turned off the monitor without even looking at it. He wished he could comfort Mike, tell him something, but he was already gone.
"His dad still hasn't come in yet?" Dave asked. Haleh shook her head.
"He's on his way; had to come in from work." She said softly. Dave shook his head, and pulled his stethoscope over his ears. He lightly pressed to cold metal to Mike's chest, repositioned, and tried again. Dave shook his head.
"Time of death 19:23." He reached down to pull the sheet over Mike's head. "Call the morgue and tell me when Mike's dad gets here. I'm going to go get some coffee."
Dave headed towards the lounge, pulled his stethoscope from his neck and fell heavily into a chair. He wiped his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts. He stood to go get a cup of coffee, when Haleh appeared in the doorway.
"He's here." She said. Dave looked at her surprised. Perfect timing. He hurried out of the lounge to see a middle-aged man walking towards him.
"Where's his room? How is he?" the man asked.
"Mr. Sturgeon, your son, Mike, died a few minutes ago." Dave broke it quickly.
"What?" Mr. Sturgeon asked.
Dave led him to Mike's room, and they looked through the window towards the peaceful looking Mike.
"He's really dead?" Mr. Sturgeon asked. Dave nodded solemnly. "I always knew it was going to happen, but I thought I would have more time. He's my only child; he's the only thing I have in the world."
"I know how hard this must be for you." Dave said quietly.
Mr. Sturgeon looked at him, with pain in his eyes. "How is this possible? They said he had more than a month left." He groaned.
"He might of; yes." Dave answered solemnly. He always hated breaking the news that a loved one had died.
By Alyssa
Yellowbrick_1@hotmail.com
Rating: PG13, better be safe
Disclaimer: "I, Alyssa, do solemnly swear…." Turns briefly to look behind her at the man holding a gun to her back. She clears her throat and continues, "That I do not own any of the characters from the hit show 'ER'." Apparently having finished her job she feels the pressure of the barrel leaving her back.
Dave looked into the young man's sad eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked Mike Sturgeon. Mike only nodded. "Okay," Dave answered, "Then I'll get you the forms." He left the room slowly, trying to delay; trying to give Mike time to change his mind. He walked over to the admit desk, and told Randi to find him a DNR form. Then he headed straight to the bathroom.
He always hated cases like this: young patients, giving up on life. He looked at himself in the mirror, and thought briefly about why he deserved to live and that other man didn't. He shook it off; as a doctor, he couldn't think about those things, simply because they happen too often. He left the bathroom and returned to the admit desk.
"Did you find them?" He asked Randi.
"Yep." She answered, sticking her hand out, but keeping her eyes on her magazine. Dave took them and headed back to Mike's room. He slipped a pen out of his pocket and then pushed open the door.
"Do you want me to sit you up?" Dave asked Mike.
"Sure." Mike answered, his voice only carrying the smallest hint of anxiety. Dave looked at him straight in the eyes while he handed over the papers.
"I want you to think about this, Mike. There are always new studies..."
"I've had enough studies." Mike interrupted him. "I'll leave them for somebody else." Dave nodded and handed over the pen. Mike gave him a grim smile and took it in a shaky hand. "This is really what I want. I don't want to go through it anymore."
"I understand." Dave nodded. He didn't, he really didn't; why would someone want to die?
Mike held the pen out for Dave and slipped the papers towards him again. He smiled again, more genuine.
"You can take it back anytime you want." Dave told him. Mike nodded.
"I know, but I won't want to."
"Ok." Dave paused a moment, then grabbed the papers. "I'll go turn these in, and I'll check in on you later."
"Don't worry about me, doc."
"Just sit tight and don't cause too much trouble." Dave flashed him a smile, and left the room.
Dave took a deep breath: only two hours left. He erased his last patients name off the board and headed for another chart. Suddenly, there was beeping and Haleh yelled to Dave.
"Who is it?" Dave asked.
"Mike." Haleh answered.
Dave cursed under his breath and he sprinted off towards Mike's room. The heart monitor was beeping loudly, and Mike lie silently on his bed. Dave walked over to him, and turned off the monitor without even looking at it. He wished he could comfort Mike, tell him something, but he was already gone.
"His dad still hasn't come in yet?" Dave asked. Haleh shook her head.
"He's on his way; had to come in from work." She said softly. Dave shook his head, and pulled his stethoscope over his ears. He lightly pressed to cold metal to Mike's chest, repositioned, and tried again. Dave shook his head.
"Time of death 19:23." He reached down to pull the sheet over Mike's head. "Call the morgue and tell me when Mike's dad gets here. I'm going to go get some coffee."
Dave headed towards the lounge, pulled his stethoscope from his neck and fell heavily into a chair. He wiped his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts. He stood to go get a cup of coffee, when Haleh appeared in the doorway.
"He's here." She said. Dave looked at her surprised. Perfect timing. He hurried out of the lounge to see a middle-aged man walking towards him.
"Where's his room? How is he?" the man asked.
"Mr. Sturgeon, your son, Mike, died a few minutes ago." Dave broke it quickly.
"What?" Mr. Sturgeon asked.
Dave led him to Mike's room, and they looked through the window towards the peaceful looking Mike.
"He's really dead?" Mr. Sturgeon asked. Dave nodded solemnly. "I always knew it was going to happen, but I thought I would have more time. He's my only child; he's the only thing I have in the world."
"I know how hard this must be for you." Dave said quietly.
Mr. Sturgeon looked at him, with pain in his eyes. "How is this possible? They said he had more than a month left." He groaned.
"He might of; yes." Dave answered solemnly. He always hated breaking the news that a loved one had died.