Through the black, I could feel the sharp nub of reality piercing my blank mind. Opening my eyes, I could feel the skin on my face go taut. Fabulous, sunburn. The sun was setting, leaving a bloody stain in the east…hold on, something's off. I sat bolt upright and was greeted by a fresh wave of pain. As I rubbed my temples, I thought about the sunset. Judging by the lack of ocean, I was obviously not in Berkeley, California. All I could see were mountains, sparsely littered with dry shrubs and rocks. Was I in freaking Mexico or something? I frowned, which cracked my skin and stinging sweat dripped into my eyes. The pain was different this time, dulled by nausea and dizziness. I knew this pain. This was the kind of pain I had experienced my freshman year in high school.
I had been walking home, and some shithole had decided I looked like a rich white kid, and mugged me. My nose had been broken, and even though I had my cell phone, it took my parents forty-five minutes to find me. Needless to say, when I was brought to the hospital, they gave me a pint of blood.
I snapped out of my flash back, and started to examine my leg more carefully. Looking at the sun again…weird…I calculated that it had been roughly five hours. Lucky for me, my sweat and blood had mingled with dirt and caked in to a tough plaster, stopping me from bleeding to death. I looked around at my surroundings again, the voice in the back of my mind still wondering why this deserted camp looked familiar, and was disheartened to see that the only sign of life was the shack fifty yards away.
I took a deep breath. I tried yelling for help, but my throat was dry, and my words came out as a croak. Only one thing left to do. I used a mental block to keep form passing out again as I tensed my shoulders and flipped onto my stomach. I bit my tongue and brushed tears out of my eyes. I pulled myself forward with my sun burnt arms. I was not going to die, not today. I went about three feet and stopped, gasping for breath. I pulled my self farther. I had bit my tongue so hard that it was bleeding. I moved again. Stop. Go. Redlight, greenlight, I thought with a morbid sense of humor. I spit blood out of my mouth as sweat poured into my eyes. I don't remember low long it was before my chapped fingers hit the hard base of the building, but it felt like an eternity. I looked up and saw the knob of the shack door. Taking a gamble, I curled my good leg under my shaking body and launched myself up toward it, my hands grasping the smooth, cool metal feeling like a blessing as I shifted so that I was actually resting my weight on my leg.
Turning the knob, I stumbled in. I could hear the sharp murmur of voices and the soft clang of metal. Right ahead was a set of double doors, but the windows in the tops of them were dark. To my right was a doorway covered by a curtain. Light poured through the thin white cloth, and I could tell that the voices were coming from that direction. I looked for something to steady myself on and found a desk to the left, and file cabinets on the right wall next to the door. There was a cot with a teddy bear…wait. I suddenly realized why this camp and this room seemed so familiar. Taking a closer look around that office, I recognized the operator's box, headset and the messy shelves as…Radar's office. This was MASH 4077th. But, wait...I must be delirious…If this was actually MASH, that would mean I was either in the 70's, or…the 50's. I laughed at myself, and tried to concentrate on moving myself toward the noisy doorway, but that voice in my head kept pushing at my brain.
Taking a deep breath, I grabbed the cot edge, and scooted over to the door. Concentrating on my feet, I didn't notice the many eyes upon me until I could stop with out falling over. On my right and left were rows of about ten cots, each filled with men in blue pajamas, all bandaged, some awake, and some sleeping. Some had legs in traction, some had arms in casts. This was a hospital ward. It was now impossible for me to ignore. I was in MASH.
A voice pierced thought my confused thoughts. "Hey, girlie, you okay?" I jerked my head to the left. The man who had spoken to me had his shoulder bandaged, and he sported several cuts on his weathered face. He tried again, "Are you okay?" I shook my head slowly and felt my eyes fill with tears. Ugh, how embarrassing. I let go of the desk I had been leaning on, and sank down to the floor. My leg was bleeding again, the bone protruding looking almost comical it was so gruesome. I barely registered that the soldier yelling for help.
I felt a hand in my back, the first contact I'd experienced in hours. I jerked, surprised, and looked into two very blue eyes. "Corman! Get a stretcher and take her into the O.R.! C'mon, move it!" Turning back to me, Hawkeye Pierce told me, "Don't worry, we do excellent work, some of it even surgery."
In spite of myself, I grinned. Even though I was still in pain, I felt a little giddy, probably a result of how much blood I lost. I was lifted by a pair of strong arms and placed in a canvas stretcher, facing upwards. I could feel my self move, and then raised onto a metal table. The anesthetist behind me pushed a mask over mt nose and mouth, and I once again greeted unconsciousness.