by Julie Miller
From Sleep May Come
by Julie Miller
Dr. Michael Randall has been reassigned to the Richard Harding Memorial Ward at McMurray Regional Hospital, a ward that specializes in the extended care of patients in a comatose state. Thinking it to be a mental break from the strains of working on the ICU, Michael looks forward to the next few months working on this ward. His job seems routine and the days blur until a patient named Rachel Abrams. At first, she appears to be no different than the other patients on the ward, but Michael begins to learn treat her like a counseling session as he confides the deepest emotions he has felt due to the recent accident of his mentally unstable wife. He finds himself spending more and more time just talking to her. Before long, he feels like he has fallen in love with a woman he has never actually met. The same young pretty woman who is in a coma state of mind. And is the patient who also reminds him of his unstable wife who is currently living in a mental institution. The situation becomes complicated when Rachel’s family finds out how much Michael has been spending time with Rachel. Now, his job is at stake while he tries to figure out if he is actually in love with Rachel or perhaps clinging onto her for comfort that he does not have in his own life.
Table of Contents
Prologue
A Broken Puzzle
Circumference of a Rose
The Measure of A Man
Medical Proportions
A Family’s Territory
A Perfect Woman
Prologue
It hadn’t occurred to Michael that Samantha was cheating on him for the second time in one year. She got around quite quickly with her charming but seductive wit conversation skills even though she tended to have absolutely no care in the world. Though, it had not always been that way. The young nurse had been loyal to her man for at least half one year until she switched to “self- destruct” mode immediately once the marriage discovered that they were not able to conceive for the second time. If the baby boy had survived the choking of the umbilical cord disaster then he would have been named Kurtis Dave Randall. Dave was a main encouragement for the potential middle name association. Michael did not like the sound of the name, Dave for his son’s name but decided he would compromise only on Samantha’s behalf. Both of the two parties within the newly profound relationship laughed their brains out thinking about having a little Dave run through their open concept apartment. A baby usually meant no sleep, massively long headaches, lack of quiet peace and this was somehow incorporated into the adventurous factor. So the name Kurtis David Randall would stick out in its own unique way.
After all, who was a loving husband to tell his wife that her stepfather should not be the middle name of their unburned child? Sadly, the entire marriage ran upward then downward until it reached a breaking point. Michael was more than willing to pay for three hundred dollar hour therapy sessions for his loving wife but four months would past and there was still to be no positive effects. Samantha now acted publicly immature as she got butt naked at the mall. She was unintentionally showcasing her firm small breast and tight buttocks to the world. The mothers of small children screaming while they alarmed the nearby officers that some attractive woman was dropping her bra and pink lace panties like no tomorrow. How lucky those officers may have felt.
So it was a tiny shocker for Michael to receive a call from the local Fox Region County police station. He had thought that they must have mistaken the true identity of the crazy woman for his soul mate because his wife was a working nurse who never threw out her polite manners with decent ethical behavior. It was actually brilliantly hysterical to imagine a woman like his wife going remotely insane. However, Michael finally agreed to pick up the nude woman and he had come to witness that the woman was indeed, his beloved wife. No other counselors wanted to take on his wife’s case. They all suggested trying behavioral medications like Seroquel, Symbyax, Topamax, Trilafon, Zprexa, Tegretol, and Saphris, Risperdal. The reasons for not wanting to take on a case that involved a small attention span of a child wrapped in an adult body had been too deep of a case. The patient needed to be stable; the patient must not stand or jump on my desk in order for proper treatment, etc. The reasons were endless.
Michael witnessed some of his patients on huge dosage counts who did not have the ability to be mentally sane without medications. He considered placing his wife into a behavioral health institution, in order for her to jump back into wellness. It upset Michael to the gut but what could he do? He had little control over the mood swings of his wife. He was not a psychologist.
Michael concluded that Samantha seemed to have cheated only to deal with her emotions. And she eventually gave out as she began to stop responding to his efforts. She no longer cheated on him each month for a little fun venture because her sexual drive was not to be used for a treatment in regards to the son she had carried but could never have. A mother’s womb told potential adventure. The baby kicked almost like it was playing a game of soccer. The mission was to throw the ball into the goal! Win. Win. Once the ball stopped rolling so did the baby’s heartbeat.
Many confrontations were not welcomed. Tuesday 15th 2003, Mrs. Della called Michael at the behavioral health hospital at least four times a day. She yelled out loud, “Where is my baby girl! What is happening there?” Michael did everything possibly imaginable to calm down his mother- in- law but a common trait between daughter and mother began to show. The silly and unhealthy mental behavior both shared transitions into an unstable state of mind. Taking the easy way out by being mute. Michael once did a scientific laboratory assignment for his junior honors class during high school. As a result, winning a honorable mention award of eight hundred dollars that went towards his Green Help the Butterflies quest to set the world right. He guessed that his wife had become a butterfly whom was able to fly but with no clue of where to fly to. Simply like the second generation of the butterfly pack telling one another to not head to Mexico anymore because the weather was better in Texas. This was extraordinarily inaccurate but Michael only considered the possible solutions that would be able to help his wife.
The third month when Samantha was finally stable enough to have visitors, which was thought of to be a godsend. Family members and personal friends, acquaintances offered to bake delicious goods, bring optimistic lily light colored flowers and put a motivating inspirational song on. Hey Jude by The Beatles that was a true soul charmer to the sprit. The aura from the lovely tunes as the music played its high and low notes felt like, ‘call me and I’ll come to your rescue’ but it did not provide a comfortable sense to the mentally ill patient. Samantha threw the radio at her grandmother of eighty- two years of age and began screaming, wanting to be completely alone without any sign of joy. A combination of complete isolation and depression had taken over the woman for good who had once been so sweet. Sabrina Della could not bear to witness her daughter throwing immature rages so she moved to Florida where she did not need to suffer from her daughter’s visible manic depression tantrums.
Michael Randall tried to read the NY Times newspaper while he took another drink from his fruit protein morning shake that consisted of his favorite fruits of strawberries, peaches and bananas for delicious fiber. A little measurement cup dropped cold vanilla almond silk milk into the blender too. He could not stop thinking about why his wife had begun to cheat on him so often once they were told that a baby was just not in the cards. There were other options like surrogacy. The alternative plan was figured out. Yes, as soon as Michael paid off his student loans then a baby would be possible to have because money would not be an issue.
Losing train of thought about the comparisons in what could have been
possible forced the mid- aged doctor to evaluate his surroundings. He looked around his nice two million dollar condo apartment and he saw emptiness. There had still been a couple of framed pictures of Samantha when she had been in her pink scrubs, ready to help any and all people. The one specific picture that was to remain Michael’s favorite took setting in Hawaii during the spring. More specifically had been one photo based on the special honeymoon that would be a forever lasting memory until death to arrive for good. Samantha wearing a silky lavender bikini showing leg with a tan straw hat covered in exotic flowers that she had found lying next to her when she had woken up. A goddess body statue was the best way to describe Sam’s curvy slim form. It was flattering to be around. Legs were thin but she had a bottom that stuck out, where it was not too overwhelming but a pleasure to look at. Her chest size wore C 32 bra cup so she was packing with as much beauty. She swore to the world that she was super lucky to have earned such a romantic but deserving husband. But both parties within the marriage had been equally deserving. A short determined nurse to never accept no as a final answer. It was her way or flying a car right into the big ocean filled with god- knows- what.
Michael allowed more reading to be acknowledged. Accordingly, the article writer claims that the medical review event was to be taking place on August 3rd. The speaker would be Dr. Michael Randall for the first two hours to which the live event would teach medical interns what are the pro’s and con’s of entering into the medical field. Michael read the word “presentation” as he stared at it with confusion. He cleared his throat once searching for unknown purpose. Medical school put him through hell in freshmen year but he had transformed into a geeky star once the second year came around. The important difference was truly something that allowed one person to think about determination and interest. His determination was easily observed as a dictionary full of life goals. Every chapter held a separate goal that had to be achieved within a specific time frame. Professor Johnson would ask his intelligent undergraduate student, “What would happen if one single goal was not accomplished by a specific deadline?”
To which Michael responded, “Everything”.
Attention was key and it was essential to be on time. Putting the newspaper aside to lay flat on the kitchen countertop, Michael put on his brown leather coat that he had received as an anniversary gift the first year he had began developing suspicions based on his wife’s whereabouts. Nobody knew the real story behind the closed doors because the doors always remained locked where not even a locksmith would have the opportunity to break into. And that was the way it should be because Michael was one to like his privacy.
Outside held a lot of noise like taxis honking for clearway, children skipping on sidewalks to play little child games, and the yellow giant school bus was making its way to the corner in order to park for a stay of eight tormenting minutes or so. The stop bus whose STOP sign irritated all people.
The young inspirational doctor was surely looking forward to his day. Four new patients to meet, two to send on home, and four interns to teach was a complete paradise for one whom admired hectic schedules. His morning had arrived and it was time to treat and cure strangers.
A Broken Puzzle
A certain feeling comes from signing in your mentally unstable wife into a behavioral health institution and is part depressing. Michael Randall had known that his own reckless account dispersed through the past months that had seemed to rush by. One new day would eventually arrive for a new giant leap forward. Him, promising himself that he would try his utter best to be a visitor in the mental institution that frightened him. Unintentionally unaware that one year had gone by to which he decided to move to another state where the open hearted memories of his wife’s presence would no longer co- exist. The shame and loss affected his everyday life as he met his new patients. Particularly one who shared the same surname as his depressed mute wife. The patient was named Kelly Osborn Reeds. Glory played a complicated game between mind over heart but emotion transformed into an ally role. This meant that a man could only perform a wide selection of things to take his mind off of the one person he cared deeply about but was not brave enough to literally be around. Work provided Michael with a realistic sense of accomplishments. The game plan had been altered from sweet everything for life to everything empty in life. Michael shut his eyelids peacefully as he recalled the afternoon he would be pronouncing the ‘I do’ phrase that would officially make a union of two divided lives. Now, the only thing that felt good was running across a big orderly neat hospital, helping patients from one health case to the next.
Like a push-over, Michael knew as a doctor that he needed to help those that did not always deserve health support. Those who did not positively contribute to society did not deserve one ounce of help. Help should only be granted to those who were good people. Help was not some kind of bat to swing around. Even the best of people received what bad people should of. A sweet caring woman like his wife did not deserve to not have children. She would have been a great mother. Help worked in strange ways in a world full of good and bad.
Two men with arms covered in colorful dragon tattoos had come three and a half hours ago. Both of them fit the profile of illegal action. One of the men had curly dark brown messy hair with a small black star tattoo by his right eye. It appeared creepy like it must have been off of a dangerous dare. The second guy was massively skinny who also seemed to be having a bad morning. He was shaking as he walked from the drinking fountain and back to the candy machine. The skinny guy repeated the walking action more than four times when Michael starred at his direction. They probably had nowhere else to go. They could have possibly murdered an enemy and were now in a hospital incase medical help was necessary.
Michael asked two nurses, named Martha and Lucy if the two dirty men had caused any immediate damage to the other patients. The older nurse nodded her head in a very slow motion. Lucy, the shortest of the entire nurse staff shook her head once and then nodded twice once more. She quietly whispered into the doctor’s ear: “they were scaring the family members in room 114.” Then she looked down on her computer screen as she began to complete the excel worksheet that included each patients emergency contact information.
Doctor Michael Randall walked directly towards the two tattoo thugs and cleared his throat as he gathered attention. “Hello there. My name is doctor Randall. And I’m sorry fellas but you guys cannot scare our patients. I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Thank you.” Michael was proud to turn around for a new scenery.
“Hey there! What happens if we don’t leave? Huh?” The Mexican thug bigly asked with a very unsafe accent. His right eye was twitching constantly, which displayed a characteristic trait of a guilty conscience. He was not looking anyone directly in the eyes. The overweight thug creepily grinned to his skinny buddy awaiting an answer.
As a response, Michael walked forward to the nurse station. He politely pointed to the phone machine. Martha, the free nurse with little to do handed him the phone with glee mixed with a stir of discomfort. Dr. Randall quickly asked for her to dial the local authorities as he avoided eye contact with the negative looking thugs. He bet they had a jail record.
“Hello. This is Doctor Randall. And I have two thugs on my floor who are disrupting the peace. Can you please come and get them?” Michael then followed after by asking for the estimated time frame of arrival. Each nurse avoided eye contact with the scary thugs. Who knew what they were capable of? The best guesses were murder, rape, no education and some kind of evil gang. Though, murder was the first guess that Lucy thought of. She used to be a nurse at a free clinic on a terrible side of town and the endless hours involved scary homeless people who were clearly out of their minds. Nobody wanted any association with the terrifying Mexicans.
Lucy gathered the hospital phone and set it down on its machine. She produced a friendly smile as she began to type again as if she did not recently experience a shill. Altogether thinking anywho, whatever… strange m
en.
There was a blue navy suede jacket that smelt like liquor in a corner by the thugs. Another doctor requested it to be thrown away as he walked his way from room 315. He oddly observed the threatening looking thugs. Ericson looked to be ready to ask for some kind of explanation until he decided never mind.
Who had the jacket belonged to? When were people going to realize that the hospital was not a home? That was the curious question to the unknown key lock. Michael did not feel comfortable throwing away a person’s jacket. He bent over to retrieve the heavy jacket and discovered it to be warm. The jacket was set in a little corner where it was visible for view. Suddenly, the skinny thug ran to the nearest evaluator without a word. And the overweight thug stared at doctor Ericson before chasing after his skinny pal. A name tag inside one of the pockets was found. Name: Bethany Home. No phone number, home address or email address. What a shame to lose such a nice comfortable jacket. It could have kept a person really warm.
Doctor Ericson stared at his fellow peer with confused worry. “Are you alright, my friend? You looked a bit terrified.” Ericson said with question in his face expression.
“I’m fine”. This was said with a good load of denial.
“How is Samantha doing?” No longer trying to hide his worry.
“Her psychologist says she’ll need to stay at that place for one more year or so he predicts. Overall, she is fine. The last I saw her she was putting together a puzzle.” Michael responded as he placed his hands into his white medical coat. He wanted dearly to crawl into a blank room to sorrow for the life of him. Samantha was in his mind day in as well as day out. It seemed she forced entry into his mind without permission. She was similar to a census that invaded one’s privacy without sympathy. But it was not her fault she could not conceive. Neither did Doctor Randall ever predict that his college sweet heart would not be able to provide him with children. He thought of the situation as almost pathetic. It was a sorry gesture to blame his wife but not himself. After all, he did little to help the sad case when Samantha was sobbing on the sofa during the countless midnights. He had absolutely no clue of how to comfort her. So he did nothing. Positioning a tissue box right on the sofa would have at least been a small effort. Letting Samantha know that he cared.