32 - Mental Acuity
It was dark. A dim yellow glow illuminated the room, coming through an un-curtained window in the wall by the door.
Analise was lying on a soft, deep mattress. The sting in her left arm was still there and an annoying beep kept interrupting and derailing her misted thoughts.
She rolled onto her side. Searing pain shot through her left arm and the beep became a high-pitched wail. Strong hands forced onto her back, while practiced efficient movements attended to her left arm. The pain subsided and the beep resumed. She heard two sets of footsteps leaving, one pair faltered and returned. "You're in Westhouses Military Hospital", the young female voice whispered, "but never tell anyone I told you that." She was less than 10 miles from home, and, with that happy thought, Analise fell asleep, tasting pink.
Analise was confined to the room for a week. After two days, the IV lines had been removed and the annoying monitor wheeled away. By the end of the third day she had regained control of her brain, from its drug induced slumber.
Worryingly, she remembered nothing between the 'Milk Tray' man grasping her wrists under the foundation to waking in this room. She explored her room, it took less than 30 seconds. The curtained windows overlooked a light well, surrounded by concrete walls with similar windows.
The window by the door looked out to the nursing station. The door was locked. The bed was utilitarian. The bedside cabinet was empty (apart from a bed-pan which she loathed) with a jug of water and a plastic cup on top.
They'd hooked the buzzer to the ceiling, out of reach, after she'd starting playing tunes with it. If she wanted anything she had to bang on the glass, and that hurt her ribs, so playing tunes that way to annoy them was out of the question. She'd tried kicking the door, but that jarred her hip. At the end of the fourth day she refused to use the bed-pan, she could see a perfectly good bathroom and toilet behind the nursing station.
The young nurse looked helpless, but rang the doctors anyway. The answer was 'no'. Analise pee'd on the floor, then she sat in it, rolled in it, and got back into bed.
The nursing staff were not amused, except the nurse who'd furtively told her where she was; when no one else was looking, she gave Analise a wink and a thumbs-up. Analise got to have a daily bath and use the toilet after that.
It was a small victory.
It was the evening of the eighth day and Analise was furious. She was using up years of swear words on the two doctors stood at the foot of the bed.
Why couldn't she leave? Yes, her ribs still hurt, but the x-rays had shown no breaks. Yes, her right hip caused her pain when she walked, it had been dislocated and reset for crying out loud, of course it was going to hurt! Yes, the skin on her lower legs was still red-raw, they'd been sand-blasted, but the lab tests had come back negative for infections. Yes, she had a cut on her brow, but the stitches had been removed, and while she would always have the ragged scar, it was 'healing nicely' - thank-you-very-much!
Analise mentally increased her swear word allowance to one a month, and gave the doctors another five-years' worth. At this rate, she was going to have to go weekly. The doctors ignored her.
... "visual acuity" ...
... "mood swings" ...
... "spatial awareness" ...
... "selective memory loss" ...
... "augmentative reasoning" ...
... "personality shift" ...
... "logical deduction" ...
... "behavioural alteration" ...
... "neurological perception" ...
... "psychological changes" ...
... "there's something else" ...
... "but no real reason to" ...
... "shear bloody mindedness?"
"Not very medical, but yes, I'll concede that!"
The more senior doctor turned to her, "We're going to discharge you", he said.
"About f***ing time", snarled Analise, "where's my things?"
"All in good time", said the other doctor, "there are forms to fill out, papers to sign ..."
Analise screamed, used up another two-years' worth of swearing, and hurled the water jug at them.
"We forgot hand-eye co-ordination", said one, dodging the jug.
"Nothing wrong with that either", said the other, skipping over the puddle of broken glass.
The metal bed-pad bounced off the rapidly closing door, "and muscle strength has definitely returned", added the first.
The door opened a crack. "Only me", the young nurse called through, "is it safe to come in?"
"For you, yes", replied Analise.
She liked the young nurse, but still couldn't shift the feeling that they'd met somewhere before.
The nurse placed a plastic water jug by the bed, then held out a small paper cup with two pills. Analise's face turned to thunder.
"Please", she pleaded, "it's my job. They're only for your head-ache."
Analise looked at the two pills, they certainly looked like standard issue head-ache tablets. She took the cup and went to swallow them.
"Just a moment", said the nurse, "I'll sort your bed out and get you settled first."
She busied herself with fluffing the pillows and straightening the bed-sheets.
Then she helped Analise into bed. Analise swallowed the pills and drank the water the nurse had poured her.
"Good bye", said the nurse, as Analise sunk into the bed, tasting midnight-blue.
The nurse leant over and kissed her lightly on the fore-head. "Sleep well", she added.
A gold medallion, in the form of a serpent eating its own tail surrounding a vivid blue gem stone, swung from where it had nestled in her cleavage, but Analise was already asleep.