Chapter 2d07

Chapter 2 (Draft 07)

Two weeks later, Sally heard an unfamiliar voice through the blankness. Somebody was calling her name.

Daddy? Is that you?

"How long has the oxygen been at the current level?"

"About three minutes."

"Okay… Give me the catheter again. She's still has some secretions here… got some tape stuck to the tube… hold on."

"You want me to deflate the cuff?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Sally! Wake up! Can you hear me? Sally… open your eyes."

For someone born in the open plains, obeying a command delivered with such ferocity was almost habitual. Sally's eyes immediately flew open, but what she saw confused her just as quickly. A nurse she had never seen before was glaring down into her eyes like some angry lunatic looking to throttle her. The woman's nametag said, Janet Baker, Respiratory Therapist. Sally tried to speak, but found that impossible.

"I'm going to pull your breathing tube. I want you to breathe in. Breath in, Sally!"

There was a heavy pressure against her chest once more and then her body was suddenly gasping for air. Like some foreign thing separate from her head, her tongue slammed against the roof of her mouth and stuck itself there. It was as dry as the time she fell face down, open mouthed, into the dustbowl between Stella and Shubert. She immediately tried to swallow; she that was impossible too.

"Let's give her some O-2."

"Waaa…ter…" she tried to whisper.

"In a minute Mrs. Carmichael," the lunatic replied. "Will you get her some ice chips?"

The old woman tried to raise her hands, but found them strapped down to the bedrails. That scared her more than her confusion.

"Untie her hands," Kari told Bea, who was now standing the other side of the bed.

"Sorry, Sally. Hospital policy when you're on the vent." Her hands were suddenly free.

"There you go, sweetie." Kari gently rubbed the woman's hands and checked for any sores on her wrists. "A little cream there… and there," she said softly.

She was handed a Styrofoam cup with a small mound of crushed ice that barely covered the bottom. The irony of the situation didn't go unnoticed as Kari watched her friend eagerly scooping at the ice. Here was a woman who only recently was hoping to die

"Take it slow Mrs. Carmichael. Going too fast will only make you sick."

Sally ignored the voice, dropped the plastic spoon and tipped the cup into her mouth. She was surprised at how sensitive her teeth were as she crunched down and the sudden gush on the back of her throat made her gag.

"Told you."

"Easy, Sally. Take it slow, now," Kari admonished her kindly. She tilted the woman's head to the side as she wheezed and coughed. "Let them dissolve in your mouth a little at a time; not so much all at once."

She was rolled straight again, her eyes still watering, but when Sally tried to speak she found the parts necessary for doing the task unworkable. It would take another two weeks before she could whisper again.

"Hello, Sally. I'm Doctor Hoffman here at Mercy Center. Do you remember me?"

The woman stared up at the graying man, searching uncaringly through her memory before shaking her head.

"Well — that's all right. You're doing fine, very well in fact." He straightened to look at her chart again. She could see him nodding through the list of tests.

"Magnesium's still a little low, but definitely better than yesterday." He looked up again. "Mrs. Carmichael… you are certainly the most remarkable patient I think I've ever had in my care. I hope you will honor me someday with your secrets of longevity. You gave us quite a scare a while back, but you've recovered amazingly well."

Sally glanced over at Kari to deliver her practiced, 'Oh-lucky-me,' smirk. Kari smiled and then came forward.

"I guess it just means you still have some work to do, Sal," she said, smoothing the woman's blankets around her again. Sally looked incredulous.

"I'll get you some more ice."

Over the next few days, Kari told Sally about her cataleptic brush with death and Sally couldn't hide her amazement. As it turned out, the reaper had come for her head after all. Her vitals had continued to spiral downward toward the inevitable end, despite the increased settings on her vent, and the heroic efforts put forth by the Mercy staff. In fact, the good and saving Doctor Hoffman even told her he had already decided to call her dead while still delivering the last few compressions to her chest. He had been bouncing her for a full ten minutes when he told himself that was it; she was done.

I'll stop on the tenth compression: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sweet-sixteen — done! That's it, Sally Carmichael… you're outta-here; the big sleep, dead as a doornail, as dead as polka dot, silk shirts. Just tell me where to send the daisies, honey, because… you're time is done.

But then, two full minutes later, one of the devices monitoring Sally's vitals suddenly decided to salute Doctor Hoffman's efforts and the old woman's crusty organ of a heart abruptly started beating again.

And it didn't come back as just some weak and indecisive putt-putt… wait… putt-putt… wait… 'you'd better check my batteries', kind of restart either. Hell no. It was flat-line to ker-thump, ker-thump, ker-thump, 'ain't no freakin' dead people in here' kind of rhythm that took every medical practitioner in the room back to the shock of their first autopsy.

Kari remembered Hoffman looking at the monitor in utter disbelief and then giving it a callous get-the-hell-out-of-here whack in the lights before pulling out his stethoscope to confirm the rumor. He listened into Sally's chest and then smiled. ker-thump, ker-thump, ker-thump.

"Well — I'll be damned!"

Kari couldn't stop herself from smiling - despite Sally's dismay at God's decision to keep her earth-bond just a little bit longer.

"Come on, Sally… have the courage to live. Come on… anyone can die."

To Kari, death was terrifying not because it was the great unknown — but because it was so ordinary; it happened all the time in the place where she worked. Living was the thing that took courage.

"Come on, Sally."

And so it was that Sally Carmichael, of Shubert Nebraska, survived that day of death… to live on.

A week later the vent was pushed out of the room, a piece of surgical piping was yanked out of the side of Sally's chest, and a second tube in her bladder was pulled without ceremony by the night shift. Three days later she was taken off of dialysis; blessed relief.

"There's nothing like the removal of needles from your groin to brighten your day," Kari suggested afterwards.

With every day that passed Sally was starting to feel a little more alive, more like the person she was intended to be. Her first trip to the toilet was unforgettable.

"The things we humans take for granted can't possibly be numbered, but a good pee in the morning should never be one of them," Sally would later say after her throat had healed.

Two more weeks passed and Sally was sitting up in bed and reading a favorite book when she first overheard the conversations about her being moved into a different part of the hospital. Kari Dietz wasn't having any of it, of course. Sally was her patient and her friend, and she wasn't ready to give up her charge so easily.

Eventually, however, Sally was moved to the short-term care floor, and it was there she first began to hear the talk about her eventual release. If not for the fact that she was feeling so good, she would have been disappointed. Although she didn't necessarily like the hospital, she hated it less than her apartment in the city.

She had sold their suburban house in Seattle, the last meaningful act of defiance to her husband's memory, and moved to a tiny room within walking distance of the cemetery and Mary's grave. It was there, she expected, in that ugly apartment, in a state she never called home, that Sally Carmichael would live out the rest of her days. She would slowly fade from God's greater creations until that final moment when He released her from the burden the living called life.

The harassing old coot living next door was the one who called for help after her collapse. Determined to get himself laid one more time before checking himself into what Sam called 'Satan's hotel for the Hentai', he happened to peak into her window to see her lying on the floor. It was ironic that as the paramedics hastily stuffed Sally into the ambulance, she could remember feeling a sharp spike of giddiness about the whole ordeal. The doors were slammed and the siren wailed, and all the time Sally was smiling. She was thinking God had finally let off the hook. After a lifetime of manual labor, she had left a pile of unfolded laundry on her bed and a sink full of dirty dishes behind her. Good! For once… let somebody else clean up after me.

"You know… there's a lot of talk in the hallway about releasing you, Sally," Kari told her the next day. Sally's friend came to the side of her bed with a tray of food and a smile.

Sally smiled back and then grabbed up the writing board and marker on the table next to her. She wrote: 'Tell them my hearing has improved too. They're saying Friday?'

Kari was somewhat startled at seeing the note, but she smiled anyway.

"Yep… or Monday, depending on your last test results. You ready to go home?"

Sally frowned as she wrote back. 'Sounds like they're looking forward to getting rid of me.'

"Well… people who aren't sick are of no use to the buzzards in this place."

Sally wrote and turned the board around to show her. 'Why do you think?'

"Why do I think what, Sal?"

'Why do you think… I'm still alive?' she added.

Kari's face fell. She reached back to take a chair from behind the door and slid it next to Sally's bed.

"I suppose it just wasn't your time, honey."

The old woman rolled her eyes.

"No… I mean it, Sal. Maybe there's something more you have to do. Surely — you can think of something you would like to do now that you have another chance. Places you'd like to visit, maybe some people you'd like to see again?"

'Nope'

"Nothing?"

Sally underlined the message again.

"Well… I'm sure you'll find there is something, and now you have the time to… what?"

Sally was shaking her head as she wrote. 'Has anybody else died since the day I almost died?'

Kari frowned. "What do you mean? You mean here at Mercy?"

'Anywhere.'

Kari was startled again. "Well, of course, Sally. That was weeks ago."

'Are you sure?'

Kari suddenly looked worried. "Yes, I'm sure. There was a kid who died from a motorcycle accident just last night: Serious head trauma. Sally… why are you asking me these ques… what's the matter?"

Sally let the board drop to her lap as her head fell into her pillow. She was thinking about what her father had said to her.

"We're full up here right now. You'll have to go back until there's room again."

Sally heaved reproachfully. It was all just a dream, nothing more than an oxygen-starved brain trying to make sense out of the process of dying. If there was no room left in heaven… then why are people still dying?

"Sal? Are you okay?"

Sally looked up, forced a smile and then shrugged. She pulled her board over again and wrote, 'See any red X on me yet?' Sally smirked after writing the message.

Kari never regretted telling Sally about her fall from grace in the eyes of Nurse Ratchet. She always found Sally's wisdom and sympathy nurturing… something she felt was missing in the relationship with her own mother. Other than her councilors at Mercy, Sally was the only other person she had ever told about those bloody death marks.

Kari looked again at the 'X' on Sally's board and grinned. "Never on you, Sal. Not once."

The Monday that followed found Sally sitting in an uncomfortable chair next to what was supposed to be her deathbed. Although she never doubted she would he sitting where she now was, she had always envisioned her state a little less corporeal and much wiser about God's greater plan. She did not expect this: to be breathing at ease and staring stupidly at all the monitors now sitting quietly in the dark around a freshly made bed. What the hell was she still doing here? Why am I still alive?

"Okay, Sal, ready to go?" Kari entered the room pushing a wheelchair.

Sally frowned as she pushed herself up to stand. "I can walk," she whispered in a raspy voice, clutching her purse with her other hand.

Kari was surprised at Sally's strength. "Yeah, I know, but it's hospital policy to wheel you out. Insurance buzzards would have a fit otherwise."

Sally grinned as her friend rolled forward. That's what she liked about Kari Dietz; her brutal honesty was always refreshing to her.

She sat in the chair and watched as Kari adjusted her feet on the plates in front. She returned to the back and spun Sally around to the open door.

"And… we're out of here. I'm taking you over to the pharmacy first so we can get your scripts filled, and I have a taxi scheduled for pick up out front in thirty minutes. Should be all set."

Half an hour later, Kari was still standing behind Sally's wheelchair waiting for the cab outside the hospital. The weather was cold and drizzling and reminded Sally again why she hated Seattle so much.

"This one is for pain," Kari continued to explain, pulling out a third bottle of pills from a white paper sack. "Take two of these as necessary up to three times a day. Try to space them out if you can." She reached into the bag again. "Oh… and this one's for nausea…"

"I never thanked you for staying with me, Kari," Sally interrupted her unexpectedly.

Kari looked up. "What?"

Sally reached out to take her friend's hand. "You were very kind to me through all of this, honey; a real blessing. I know you don't get to hear this very much considering where they've put you to work, but you should know it's true. You gave me every comfort during what should have been my last days, and I can't thank you enough for your kindness."

There were tears leaking from Kari's eyes as she reached down to hug the old woman.

"You're the blessing in this place, Sal. More than you could ever know."

There was a quick honk and a driver in a yellow cab was looking at them.

"Cab for Carmichael?" The man said, hopefully.

"That's us," Kari answered back. Sally was already on her feet again.

"Here's your meds, Sal. Call me tonight to let me know how you're settling in and especially if you have any questions about all these pills." She handled the driver a plastic bag with the rest of Sally's belongings.

Sally got into the back without any sign of pain.

"Take her to the Morning Star Towers on Green Tree Drive," Kari told the driver before slipping the man forty dollars. "See that she gets through the front door."

"Yes Ma'am, I will."

After closing Sally's door, the driver entered the vehicle again cursing at the rain under his breath as dropped the car into gear. Sally turned to wave at Kari before kissing her hand and placing it on the rain-soaked window.

Kari smiled and waved back as she watched the cab turn into Main Street and fall out of site.

Another cab quickly pulled in to fill open space and an elderly man was struggling to get out. Kari rushed forward to help him as the driver stuck his head out the window.

"He seemed okay when he got in, but now he says his chest hurts!"

Kari sat the man down in Sally's empty chair and then moved to the front to place his feet.

"My… heart…" the man wheezed, still clutching the front of his chest. "I think it's my heart."

Kari looked into the man's grimacing face over his knees. He looked pale and he was sweating liberally even as the cold rain continued to pour down.

"How long have you been having this pain?" Kari asked him, trying to ignore the bright red 'X' splashed on the man's wrinkled brow as he fisted the front of his shirt.

"A little… his morning… but nothing like this…"

Kari lifted the brakes and quickly wheeled the man inside.

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