by S G Read
‘I will be back as soon as I have sorted the others out.’ She promised and pushed the trolley out of the room.
Stuart started the five minute bleeper on his watch, it would signal every time five minutes were up. As he was sitting up, when the bleeper started for the forth time and the room started to spin, Stuart was violently sick. Not having touched his breakfast, Stuart had thought maybe he would be alright but he had been wrong. Without food it seemed worse! He waited until he felt a bit better then slid along the bath to the basin and washed his mouth out. It was then Brenda chose to return, Carol had arrived and taken over in the ward when she heard of Stuart's fall.
‘How long has this been going on?’ Brenda asked, surveying the scene and the fact that Stuart had not been as accurate as he might have been.
‘Ever since I started taking the pills.’ Stuart answered feeling very sorry for him self.
‘Right I will phone for Mr Follet to come and see you! Can I help you back to bed?’
‘Yes, I think I will be okay now.’ Stuart was close to tears, normally after you have been sick you feel better but he felt awful.
Next to the bed was a stainless steel bowl.
‘Just in case you need it.’ Brenda said ruffling his hair then she headed for the phone.
The phone call proved less than fruitful, as with Carol listening beside her, Brenda was told by Clare, Mr Follet's secretary, that Mr Follet was away until after the weekend and was unobtainable. The registrar who was on duty should be called if he was needed.
‘What is this place coming to?’ Brenda fumed. ‘First they cut staff levels until they are below requirements, then the consultants take time off when they feel like it!’
‘Who is on duty today?’ Carol asked.
‘John Patterson.’
‘He's okay.’ Carol assured her.
‘I know but will he change anything that Mr Follet has arranged?’
‘We'll soon find out!’ Carol replied and paged the duty registrar.
‘Did you finish the ward?’ Brenda asked, looking for something to do until doctor Patterson arrived.
‘All except young John, he was very tearful this morning. Do you know that no one has come to see him since he was brought in?’
‘Come on then we'll see if we can't cheer him up!’ Brenda said and they walked down to John’s bed.
The registrar examined Stuart.
‘It could be a reaction to the Chloramphenicol or the steroids. We’ll take a blood test and I can change or stop the steroids altogether.’ He exclaimed.
Stuart groaned at the word ‘blood test’ but he did not actually say anything.
‘We'll stop the steroids then see what we find.’ The registrar made notes on the sheet at the bottom of Stuart's bed, then did the same in the folder with Stuart's notes in it. He turned to both nurses, who were watching him. ‘Take him off them tonight; I am on duty until ten, then Doctor Bruce is on. I will brief him if before I go, if it is needed. Let's see how he reacts to the next lot of Chloramphenicol on their own.’
After the registrar had gone, Brenda took another blood sample from Stuart's arm. She saw the large bruise.
‘Where did that come from?’ She asked.
‘Oh that! I walked into the doorframe when I was on my way into the bathroom. I was in a bit of a hurry!’
‘A bit further down and I would have to have taken the sample from your other arm!’ Brenda exclaimed.
‘What if I bruise both of them there?’ He pointed to the spot Brenda was just sticking a plaster on. ‘Would that mean you would have to take it from some one else?’
‘No, then we have to take it from the most active part, in your case it would have to be your tongue!’
Carol had just walked into the room.
‘Well it's a good job he's not Casanova then!’ She commented in her thick accent and both nurses laughed but it was lost on Stuart, he was still trying to imagine trying to draw blood from someone's tongue.
‘Isn't it time you went home to your bed Brenda?’ Carol asked.
‘It is. I thought it would speed things up if I took the blood down for John to test, it would be quicker than sending Billy Roberts.’
‘I think you might be right. Now be off with you and get you some sleep!’
‘I don't mind today, I have tomorrow off.’
‘And why not two days like everyone else!’ Carol asked.
‘They always phone me on the second day; they know I never say no!’
‘More fool you then.’ Carol exclaimed.
Brenda smiled. ‘They know I'll say yes because I like my job, most of the time anyway.’
‘We seem to be losing more patients lately.’ Carol said once they were out of Stuart's room and he could not hear them. ‘I hope it is just a natural thing and no one is bumping them off!’
‘Nurse on the rampage eh?’ Brenda said tiredly. ‘It's more likely to be doctor too tired to do his job properly but I have my eyes open.’
CHAPTER 13
John Sykes sat at his worktop, he was sitting on a stool but finding it hard to stay there, he had a sharp pain in the left hand side of his back. After a furtive look, to make sure no one was looking, he opened a drawer and took a long drink from the bottle in the drawer. Another drink and the pain felt easier, he replaced the bottle and took out a mouth spray. He used it liberally. He heard the door open behind him and turned round.
‘It's only little me John.’ Brenda said as she walked in.
‘At least you're big hearted.’ John replied.
‘You old smoothy.’ Brenda replied.
‘Not so much of the old! I suppose there is a reason for this visit. People, especially pretty ones, don't usually come down just to see me.’ John said in a ritual flirting.
Brenda held up the blood sample.
‘We have a poorly little boy who keeps bringing up his food as soon as he takes his pills. Can you throw some light on it?’ She asked.
‘Of course; that's why I'm here.’ He said it in a friendly, jovial fashion but it was not as he felt. He accepted the sample, took the cap off and pretended to drink it. ‘A good vintage, nice bouquet. I'll do it now and send it up as soon as I get some answers!’
‘Thank you John, goodnight.’
‘Goodnight? I take it you've been on night shift again?’
‘That I have and now I need my bed.’
‘Lucky you; you look well enough for all the night work you do, maybe I should try some. I can't seem to shake off this flu!’
‘Somehow I don't think they would like to you to do your job at night.’ Brenda closed the door behind her and hurried home.
John swung round on the stool to face the worktop but lost his balance and fell off the stool. The open sample bottle landed first, spilling its contents on the floor then John landed on top of it, heavily.
‘Damn!’ John grunted and climbed unsteadily to his feet and looked at the mess on the floor. He mopped up the blood and had to change his coat as there was blood all over it. As he mopped he drank from the same whisky bottle. When the floor looked clean enough he used the mouth spray to cover the smell of the whisky, then wrote out a memo to go to the ward. It read ‘Blood contaminated, please send new sample.’ He signed the memo and put it in the collection tray, then flopped onto the stool. His side was throbbing as he picked up the next sample. The label read ‘Jennifer Robbins.’
John read her notes. She had been in for tests but her results had been clear, obviously she was still complaining. He looked at the tests he had run and snarled. ‘I can't be bothered with you, you little cow!’ Instead of running the tests he took a new sheet, copied the same results onto it and put it in her folder then he put the blood sample at the back in the laboratory fridge. He dumped the folder on top of the memo for more of Stuart's blood. The bloodstained coat caught his eye and he remembered the spilt blood. Stuart's folder was still on the worktop; he took out the latest test sheet and read it. He failed to notice the in
itials ‘jr’ in the top right hand corner; it was his way of making sure that there was no mistake. He let whoever wanted to; write the name in, again it was his way. Accordingly someone had written Stuart Sellars on the sheet as it was in Stuart Sellars folder. He read the results and wrote out a new sheet showing a slight improvement in his results and wrote. A LARGER DOSE MIGHT SPEED UP RECOVERY, THE NEW DRUG IS AVAILABLE WITH A COATING ON IT TO STOP THE NAUSEA BUT I WILL HAVE TO ORDER IT! He signed the sheet put it in the folder and dropped the folder on top of Jenny's, forgetting the note asking for another blood sample. Geraldine chose that moment to walk in with a tray of various samples.
When Stuart woke on Friday morning he felt positively bad but he was a fighter. His watch said it was six o'clock in the morning and he was wide awake. He thought he would surprise Brenda by being washed and dressed when she called him. He used a chair as a Zimmer frame to help him get to the bathroom then sat in it to wash. To his surprise it was another nurse who came in at seven thirty. Her name label read ‘Fiona Samuels.’
‘Where's nurse.’ He paused to think of Big Brenda's surname. ‘Teller?’
‘She does have days off you know!’ The nurse replied.
‘I was going to surprise her by being up and washed before she came in.’ Stuart complained.
‘Well, you've surprised me instead. The porter will be in with your food a little later.’
A picture of Billy appeared in Stuart's mind, carrying a bucket of pig swill.
‘I can't wait.’ He groaned then a thought occurred to him.
His food did not stay down long, so it did not matter what it was! With this thought in mind he settled back on the pillows, his hands clasped behind his head and accepted the thermometer, as it was thrust into his mouth. He was a bit worried when she took his blood pressure; Brenda had said he would have to be really ill before they did that! When Billy arrived with his breakfast it was already cold as was the cup of very strong tea.
‘This is cold!’ Stuart complained.
‘Well when you sick it up it won't be so you can have it warm then!’ Billy answered, as he closed the door on his way out.
Stuart looked forward to breakfast; at least he managed to eat it even if he did bring it back up later. He was near to tears and shouted ‘Bastard.’ At the closed door.
A few seconds later the nurse appeared.
‘Is there a problem?’ She asked.
‘Yes, this is cold!’ Stuart said pointing to his breakfast.
‘You should have eaten it when it was brought, in then it wouldn't be!’ The nurse scolded.
This was too much for Stuart and through floods of tears he said. ‘He's only just brought it.’
‘Not to worry I'll find you something to eat.’ The nurse placated and took the cold food and tea away.
Stuart lay there on the bed crying softly and waiting to see what she brought back for him, if she remembered to come back at all. True to her word, when she returned, she had two boiled eggs and a pile of soldiers to dunk in them. She cut the top of the eggs for him and put the tray on his lap.
‘The tea is just brewing; now eat this while it is hot!’
Stuart was beyond arguing he started to eat, this was good. He washed it down with the best cup of tea that he had ever tasted. With the exception of the first cup of tea in the jungle, when he had had no milk and had used whisky instead. The other boys had joined him and there was soon no whisky left. Half an hour after taking his pills he flushed his breakfast down the toilet, down to the last soldier. Leaving Stuart feeling weaker than ever and a little depressed. He lay there watching television but he had no real interest in it. He was pleased when his mother arrived and cuddled her as strongly as he could but his early rise now caught up with him and he promptly slipped into a pleasant sleep which lasted until the middle of the day. Wendy took out a book and started to read, she was prepared.
‘Who was a tired boy then?’ His mother admonished. ‘What were you doing last night after we left?’
‘Sleeping mum; I seem to be doing that a lot lately.’ Stuart replied. ‘Is there any news from the last blood test?’
‘Hasn't the registrar been round yet?’ Wendy asked.
‘No.’
‘You rest while I go and-’ She checked her next words.
‘Kick bum?’ Stuart asked.
Instead of being angry, his mother laughed.
‘Just that Stuart! Just that!’ She did not make it out of the room however, as she opened the door the registrar nearly walked into her.
‘Good morning.’ He greeted. He had been on duty all night and was looking forward to a day in bed.
‘Good morning.’ Wendy returned the greeting, in an affable manner. ‘Have you any news on the blood test?’
‘Yes and according to this, regardless of what we see, Stuart is on the mend.’ The registrar reported. ‘The lab technician recommends that I increase the dose to speed up recovery but I think I will let Mr Follet sort that out when he returns!’
‘What about his sickness and weight loss?’ Wendy asked.
‘All part of it but if Mr Follet is worried, there is a coated pill of the same drug Stuart can take.’ The registrar explained. ‘There is no chance of him being sick then!’
Friday passed without further ado. The boys all went to the same youth club on a Friday night and Stuart only saw his parents and Stephen. Stephen should have been at youth club but he came in to see Stuart instead.
The boys met at the tree house on Saturday morning but they merely sat there with no interest in the work which still needed to be done. The four walls were up but far from completed.
‘Stu's sick!’ Ben announced suddenly. ‘Wouldn't it be better if we finished the tree house and invited him to the grand opening?’
‘Sounds good to me!’ Sherman agreed. ‘Do we need to vote or shall we just get to work?’
It was agreed that they should start work. Some of the boys had brought wood for the walls and others knew where there was wood for the collecting. Soon the walls were complete and the door fixed in place, the hinges being old leather soles off of Sherman's dad's boots, nailed to the door and the frame. They had seen this done in a film on television and were happy when the idea worked. The bracing which David Sellars had done, made the rest of the work a lot easier and a lot safer. With the walls finished they sat in their tree house, at least it now looked like a tree house, even though the roof was not started yet.
‘Now what?’ Ben prompted as they sat there resting.
‘It's too late to do the roof, so I suggest we visit Stu in the hospital but we don't say anything until we've finished the tree house!’ Sherman replied.
Everyone looked at Simon.
‘Why look at me?’ Simon declared. ‘I'm not the only one with a big mouth!’
J.C was the next on the stare list.
‘I won't say anything!’ He maintained. ‘Do you want me to swear on a bible or something?’
There was a short discussion and came to the conclusion that it was easier just to swear together that they would not let Stuart find out, until they had finished. An hour later the boys descended on the hospital. They found Stuart alone in his room looking pale and a lot thinner than when he had come into the hospital.
‘Hi Stu.’ They greeted as one but very raggedly.
‘The food can't be very good!’ Simon said after he realized how bad Stuart looked.
‘It's not the food! That's okay!’ Stuart replied. ‘It's keeping it down that's the problem.’
‘Erg don't!’ Toby cried squeamishly.
‘How did you lot get here?’ Stuart asked, changing the subject. ‘Did you all come together?’
‘Ben's brother brought us in his van.’ Toby answered.
‘What that little blue one?’ Stuart asked, remembering how small it was.
‘Turquoise actually.’ Toby corrected.
‘We were like sardines.’ Simon complained. ‘Still it was better than walking.’
‘Miser first class.’ Ben answered. ‘But it only cost us ten pence each to get here, which is cheaper than any other way. Except walking or on a bike!’
‘Or Skateboarding!’ C.J suggested.
‘Or roller boots!’ J.C added.
‘What about a pogo stick?’ John asked.
‘Five miles on a pogo stick now that's an idea!’ Stuart said starting to show some interest. ‘You do it and we'll time you.’
‘It was just something to go on!’ John argued, not liking the idea of going five miles on a pogo stick.
‘Shall we take a vote on it?’ Sherman asked.
Despite John's opposition, they voted on a proposition that John should try to pogo stick to the hospital. The vote did not go in John's favour but he was not beaten yet.
‘I haven't got a pogo stick.’
‘Nor have I!’ Sherman added. ‘Mine broke, it must have been faulty or something. Has anyone got one?’
When there was no reply John smiled.
‘Well I'm not buying one to go ten metres before I fall off and break something!’ He declared.
‘We'll find one for you.’ Ben assured him, although he did not know where from; it just seemed the clever thing to say.
‘Shall we go down to that day room and annoy that girl again?’ Colin asked.
‘You can't she's gone home!’ Stuart answered.
‘Let's go down there anyway.’ Colin replied. ‘This room is a bit small for all of us.’
Stuart climbed out of bed and tottered about.
‘I don't think I can make it that far.’ He said dejectedly.
‘We'll carry you.’ Toby suggested.
‘No way, they'll think I'm really ill!’
‘Aren't you supposed to come into hospital to get better?’ Simon asked. ‘You seem to be going down hill fast.’
‘I really needed you to say that!’ Stuart complained as he settled back on to the bed.