***
I sat quietly at the computer near one of the nurses stations inputting my morning route. Almost finished, I kept feeling the urge to go up to the forth floor. Again, there was really nothing up there for me. All of my patients were on the third or except for the first floor when I cover the ER. Mostly out of curiosity I ascended yet again one floor up. As I arrived I noticed Doctor Cooper enter a patient’s room with a few nurses. As I peered in, they were getting ready to extubate. As a few of the nurses noticed my presence in the hallway I committed to a smile and a partial hand wave and maintained a steady walk forward. Pursuing my investigation, I followed the hall, I passed room after room, patient after patient. My feet seemed to know the path to take, yet my brain was feeling a disconnect. I twisted my way back to a long corridor. It was an older portion of the hospital in the south wing, the paint on the walls seemed to be fresh. The older portion of the hospital was always apparent because the white speckled floor had a different pattern and dim whitish grey appearance. The end of the corridor was also darkened with the exception of one nurse that sat a small computer desk with a small yellow lit light at the end of the hall. My pace slowed to take in my surrounding. The hall seemed to narrow which I thought was odd because none of the other floors in this section of the hospital narrowed quite the same. At this point my legs and feet were on autopilot. I could smell a hint of aged mustiness combined with a damp atmosphere, which might have been due to the newly plastered wall paint. At the conclusion of the hall the room opened a bit to allow room for the desk and few electrical medical devices including a CPAP machine and an older ventilator. As the hall ended and the room opened I acknowledged four patient rooms, two to the left facing the nurse and two to the right rear facing the stationed nurse. The nurse seemed to have been studying something intently because she had hardly conjured a glance in my direction. As I entered the influence of the yellow dimmed light and approached I noticed the she was well into Neural Science Physiology, 5th addition by Brown M. et al., a book I knew well from my fourth year of medical school. Almost standing guard she observed from her peripheral view four monitored screens showing the stats of four patients. Prefacing my final steps toward the small desk I hovered over Brown’s intellectual arrangement. Without acknowledgement she muttered quickly “You will find what you are looking for in 436” I hesitated and looked above the door ways searching for 436. The nurse continued pursuing her textbook. How would she know what I was looking for? I didn’t even know why I was there. Regardless, I was already there and the intuitive nurse seemed to know something I didn’t. My interest peaked, I turned with my back to the nurse, and walked straight toward room 436. Immediately, stepping into the four-walled room, I could feel a strange energy lurking wall to wall. The air was dense but familiar, the clicking of the ventilator, the chirping of the heart monitor, and the clanking of the old rusty pipes. I flipped a switch, located close to a box of hanging rubber gloves and container of hand sanitizer, turning on a small light that rested on the adjoining wall, the wall that shared with room 438 next door. The patient’s bed and ventilator sat opposite of the shared wall. The window drapes were slightly tattered and worn with little natural light shining through. The mood of the room seems to have been changed after the light was resplendent. I knew not the connection I had with neither this patient nor the surroundings or even why I was there. Faded red and white stripped wallpaper clenched to the walls as if holding on for its very life, perhaps similar to recent events within these very walls. A few supplies such as towels, adult diapers, bedding and sheets were randomly folded and placed throughout various locations in the room. Despite the fossil-like attributes of the room, one could tell this patient was well-cared for. The bedding and sheets on the bed were clean along with the facets and connections of the medical devices. Usually nurses cared little for the comfort of long term critical patients. Far too frequently, bedding stays dirty, wires and connections are tucked under or around the patient’s body, and unfortunately they are hardly bathed which amounts to an unsubtle stench. Yet, this room smelled lovely, a familiar flowery and lavender scent filled the dense air. An empty chair was positioned facing the patient and looked worn from recent or often welcome visitors. The bed was raised, with the head of the bed marginally raised. Too familiarized with the surroundings I backed and moved toward the nurse and grabbed the patients chart without permission or care. The nurse seemed to hardly notice my agility. The large numbers “436” on the front of the charted clipboard starred back at me. I slowly opened the chart; promptly my attention read “Chronic Coma”. “How long has this patient been in a coma?” I asked quickly without turning toward the nurse. “About four years.” She responded and continued. “The first two years he was scoring a one on the Glasgow Scale” The past two years he has been gradually improving to a three and four.” A “one” is classified as having zero consciousness, an increase in number will result in more eye, verbal, and motor functionality. “Why is he still here and not in a long term facility?” I asked. “His brain scan or MRI results have continued to improve slightly with each year but they were afraid to transport him early on. Besides the family would not have allowed it.”
I slowly approached the room again drawing near to the patient attempting to see the face of the patient. I came within a few feet, and stopped dead in my tracks. Tout Suite, I realized who this man was. It was the unfortunate man that was impacted by the vehicle four years prior! My mind was racked with astonishment. His countenance was more pleasant, relaxed, and composed from the last I saw him when they loaded him into the back of the ambulance. Before I could process anything further, surprisingly he mumbled a set of words, that sent my body into a deep freeze, “Near ends of life lay journeys of told, which cometh to those of morals not sold. Of success finds grace which bringeth peace, whereby journeys end completes.” He continued with his eyes shut and with his words becoming even clearer, “As minds of grace dwell in peace, success can offer or bestow twice or thrice.” Still holding his chart it slipped from my hands, and created a boisterous slap on the cold white floor. At no relief, my reaction was sharp and I was quickly extended downward to help prevent any pandemonium. Already hunched over, the chart flipped open and my eyes dropped abruptly to the name of the patient “William Dunbar.” My eyes blurred and refocused on the words again, I read it again “William Dunbar.” With my head crouched, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, a carefully folded set of running wear atop a pair of worn running shoes. Knowing without a hint of ambiguity that I had remembered the man wearing a perfectly ironed and matched set of business clothes, clothes similar to what I am wearing now. I raised my brow to confirm an inevitable conclusion. I was startled to see the man starring back at me, with an angry look of disgust or disagreement, again I refocused my eyes even rubbing them quickly with the back of my hands, this time as the patient became visible, the eyes were closed, hastily the patient was revealed in his true form, it was me.
A flash of light thrust its way through the room and quickly converting to a still darkness. I sat in utter silence, with darkness surrounding every inch of me. I felt nothing to my side, above or below. Gradually a small yellowish light came into view, a voice protruded the air, a soft voice I recognized so subtly.
“Somatosensory pathways usually are conformed of three separate neurons, each include a cell body and vary with separate ganglion roots depending on the location of the neuron, whether in the spinal cord, brainstem, etc.”
A silhouette of a young girl came into view sitting on a chair centered in front of me. Not noticing my awareness, the girl continued.
“I am sure you’ve had enough of this neural nonsense for now. I appreciate you allowing me to read to out of my medical school textbooks for all of these years. Your wife should be by anytime now to visit.”
The silhouette moved from a sitting position walking away toward the small yellowish light in to the hall.
As I opened my eyes fully, I lai
d in room 436. Everything in its place the same worn window curtains hung, along with the faded white and red wallpaper, and scented lavender drifted softly through the air. I pondered my situation for a few minutes and realized what I had ahead of me, re-accomplishing all that I thought I had. Understanding my journey had just begun, one thought penetrated my mind, “Success can offer or bestow twice or thrice.”
the end
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