Oh come on, this shouldn't freak you out. You've seen internal organs. While still in someone. Stop having a panic attack. Get inside. I gently knocked on the door of room 302 and opened quietly. It was only a quarter to nine, he might still be asleep and I didn't want to wake him up. Once you'd woken up, the noise from the loud city outside with its shouting , cars, honking horns, car alarms and calls to prayers from minarets wouldn't let you go back to sleep. Unless you had heavy duty earplugs. James was awake, lying on his side, tapping away on his phone. He squinted at the bright light streaming in from the corridors, as the curtains in his room had been shut and kept the room in semi-darkness.
"Hey, it's just me, Emily. Good morning," I said in hushed tones. Nothing worse than a nurse bursting into your room at the crack of dawn screaming good morning at you.
"Hey," he replied in a husky morning voice. I switched on the little lamp hanging over the bed, not wanting to blind him by turning on the ceiling lights first thing I did. "Sorry about using the phone..." he murmured apologetically, putting it down.
"What, you thought I was going to tell you off for breaking the rules?"
"I don't know. Maybe? Some nurses can be pretty militant and frankly terrifying."
"My life ambition is not to turn into one of them. So, how did you sleep?"
"Good, I guess. Woke up with another blinding headache in the night. No idea how long I was awake. The tablets you brought me knocked me out again eventually, though."
"Yeah, you might have to get used to that headache for the next few days," I said honestly. "Anyway, I just wanted to drop in and say hi, see how you were. Just sleep longer if you want to. And if you're able to in this city's racket. Nothing much is going to happen today anyway; a doctor might check in on you later, just double-check you're ready to be discharged. My guess is you'll be out of here by this afternoon."
"Yeah, I think I'll probably just.. stay in bed. Still feel pretty tired."
"You hungry?"
"I don't know. I probably should eat something."
"Can't offer you much. Mostly jam toast. Unless you're really keen for a stomach infection on top of everything else."
"Jam toast is just perfect," he said, flinching at the prospect of a tummy bug.
"Great. Be back in a bit." I brought him jam toast, water and more tea, balancing everything precariously on top of a stack of towels as I entered his room again. He'd sat up in bed and was absentmindedly scratching at his bandage, deeply immersed in his phone again. When he noticed me he hurriedly put his phone down, looking at me with a "oh-no-you-caught-me-again"-look. "I'm not going to say anything. Just don't ask me for more paracetamol when your head hurts like hell because you've stared too much at that thing." He looked at me pointedly, but didn't say anything. "...what, too militant?"
"Just a bit," he admitted, holding his thumb and index finger an inch apart to illustrate just how militant I'd been. Wordlessly I placed toast, tea mug and the water bottle next to him on the nightstand. "Ooh, more tea! I take it back, there isn't a militant cell in your body."
"Thought so," I smirked. "I brought you some washcloths and things. I suspect you might hold off with a shower until you get to the hotel later, but if you wanted a quick wash you have what you need. Andy brought you some clothes yesterday."
"Thank you," he mumbled through a mouthful of toast.
"Right, I'm going to sort some stuff, call your mates again and let them know they can pick you up around 3. I'll check in on you every now and then. But try to get some more sleep if you can, sleep is good for your head right now." He nodded his understanding, mouth full of food.
"Hey, it's just me, Emily. Good morning," I said in hushed tones. Nothing worse than a nurse bursting into your room at the crack of dawn screaming good morning at you.
"Hey," he replied in a husky morning voice. I switched on the little lamp hanging over the bed, not wanting to blind him by turning on the ceiling lights first thing I did. "Sorry about using the phone..." he murmured apologetically, putting it down.
"What, you thought I was going to tell you off for breaking the rules?"
"I don't know. Maybe? Some nurses can be pretty militant and frankly terrifying."
"My life ambition is not to turn into one of them. So, how did you sleep?"
"Good, I guess. Woke up with another blinding headache in the night. No idea how long I was awake. The tablets you brought me knocked me out again eventually, though."
"Yeah, you might have to get used to that headache for the next few days," I said honestly. "Anyway, I just wanted to drop in and say hi, see how you were. Just sleep longer if you want to. And if you're able to in this city's racket. Nothing much is going to happen today anyway; a doctor might check in on you later, just double-check you're ready to be discharged. My guess is you'll be out of here by this afternoon."
"Yeah, I think I'll probably just.. stay in bed. Still feel pretty tired."
"You hungry?"
"I don't know. I probably should eat something."
"Can't offer you much. Mostly jam toast. Unless you're really keen for a stomach infection on top of everything else."
"Jam toast is just perfect," he said, flinching at the prospect of a tummy bug.
"Great. Be back in a bit." I brought him jam toast, water and more tea, balancing everything precariously on top of a stack of towels as I entered his room again. He'd sat up in bed and was absentmindedly scratching at his bandage, deeply immersed in his phone again. When he noticed me he hurriedly put his phone down, looking at me with a "oh-no-you-caught-me-again"-look. "I'm not going to say anything. Just don't ask me for more paracetamol when your head hurts like hell because you've stared too much at that thing." He looked at me pointedly, but didn't say anything. "...what, too militant?"
"Just a bit," he admitted, holding his thumb and index finger an inch apart to illustrate just how militant I'd been. Wordlessly I placed toast, tea mug and the water bottle next to him on the nightstand. "Ooh, more tea! I take it back, there isn't a militant cell in your body."
"Thought so," I smirked. "I brought you some washcloths and things. I suspect you might hold off with a shower until you get to the hotel later, but if you wanted a quick wash you have what you need. Andy brought you some clothes yesterday."
"Thank you," he mumbled through a mouthful of toast.
"Right, I'm going to sort some stuff, call your mates again and let them know they can pick you up around 3. I'll check in on you every now and then. But try to get some more sleep if you can, sleep is good for your head right now." He nodded his understanding, mouth full of food.
When I check in on him an hour later, being as quiet as I possibly could, he was fast asleep with his mouth slightly open, breathing deeply. He spent most of the day sleeping or dozing in his bed, while I occasionally checked in on him. Shan't be an annoying sod. Leave him, he's sleeping. The doctor had confirmed that he was discharging him this afternoon, and I'd called Andy to tell him they could come pick him up.
I knocked and opened the door not really waiting for any reply, and lumbered inside re-reading the discharge note Bastién had translated for me. The door slammed shut behind me and I looked up, startled to see four faces looking back at me instead of one. Bloody hell, I wasn't prepared for this. "I.. you're early!" I said as I checked my watch, it was only half past two.
"Yeah, we... thought maybe he was getting a bit bored by now," Andy explained.
"Hospitals are boring," Jeremy added impatiently in characteristic infantile manner. James was sitting on the edge of the bed, fresh t-shirt and jeans on, his packed bag ready on the floor. Richard was sitting on the bed next to James while the other two were sitting on chairs.
"We're not known for being very entertaining. Life-saving, yes. Entertaining, not so much. Listen, the doctor finished your discharge note. I'm adding in the original, but it was in Arabic so I got a friend of to translate it. He's french-arabic so this might need some explaining..." I mumbled, looking at the mess of spelling errors and grammatical mistakes. Richard shot up from the bed and gestured towards it, offering up his seat. "Thank you," I said with a little curtsy and sat down. "So, basically this is just a summary of what happened and what we've done. It says that you came in here because you'd hit your head, been unconscious and a bit disoriented, and that you had a gash in your head. But this you already know. Furthermore it says that you were checked neurologically and with a CT scan, showing no skull fracture or bleeds, but that you had a bad concussion. It also says that you were given a few stitches and got patched up, plus were given some fluids due to dehydration and some blood loss. So far so good?"
"Sounds about right," James nodded, the others nodded too.
"Then it says that you're discharged because symptoms have cleared and you don't require further treatment bla bla bla..." I read through it quickly. "I'm skipping the boring bits. Oh, right: You might have headaches for the next few days, which is very normal. Here's a box of paracetamol, same as you've had here. No more than four a day, though. Apologies for not being able to cough up something more interesting than your basic Panadol." I fished a rattling box of pills out of the pocket on my uniform, which James accepted with a grin. "But, and this is serious - if you get a blinding, crippling headache, or vertigo, or your vision goes blurry..." I shifted my focus from James to the other three. "If you notice that he suddenly becomes disoriented or start acting funny.." Jeremy opened his mouth, but I held up a hand to silence him. "Don't even go there, Jeremy." He shut up, looking stumped. "If any of that happens - get him to a doctor, yeah? Quickly." They all looked at me apprehensively, waiting for me to explain why. "His scan was clear and everything, but as I've said before; he did bang his head pretty badly, and even though he seems back to normal now, things can change. It's rare that they do, but still. All right?" I looked at all of them in turn, and they all nodded slowly and gravely. Secretly I kind of enjoyed lecturing them like school boys, and I was glad they were taking it seriously.
"Also, it's more important than ever that you keep properly hydrated, so drink lots. However, that does NOT include alcohol. No booze for at least three days." James' expression fell a bit. "I mean it. It could go badly wrong. Don't even think about it."
"Okay. I promise I won't." He said sincerely. Again I surveyed the others in turn, and they all murmured that he wouldn't.
"All right then. Moving on. That bandage has to stay on until tomorrow at the very least. There's a few gauze pads under there, those should be changed once a day and kept there for about four more days. Just use.. I don't know, a hat or a bandana or something to keep them in place." A pack of square guaze pads was fished out of my "nurses pocket of plenty" and handed over. "Stitches need to be removed in about 10 days. Will you be back home by then?"
"God, I hope so."
"Okay. Go to your doctor when you get back and have them taken out. Or an A&E or.. something. Get someone to pull them out with pliers for that matter, just get them out or you're stuck with suture thread in your scalp." James caught a look from Jeremy and raised a finger.
"No, Jeremy! You are not getting anywhere near my head with pliers or any other implements." Jeremy grinned maniacally.
"May I suggest the doctor alternative?" I proffered.
"I have a doctorate!" Jeremy argued.
"I probably will," James said and then shot me a smile. I drew a deep breath and sat up straight, proffering the papers to James.
"All right then, that's all I had to tell you, really. So, unless you have any questions or anything, I guess you are a free man." I looked at James as I got up.
"Wahey, you're out of here!" Richard said in his child-like manner, smiling broadly.
"That's.. good, great," James agreed, and also got up from the bed. It struck me that this was the first time I'd seen him on his feet since he came in. "Wow, you're really short," he exclaimed looking down at me. Oh god, not you too. "I mean, I haven't stood next to you before, and I didn't realise..."
"It's okay," I waved him down with a laugh. "I can take it. I know I'm short, I've accepted it." Everyone scrambled to their feet and Andy picked James' bag off the floor. Jeremy and Richard thanked me politely for helping their mate, and Andy also thanked me for helping with finding hotels and organising things. I replied that it was my pleasure. James lagged behind.
"I'll be out in a minute," he called after Andy, who disappeared through the door. Then he turned to look at me. "Listen, I just wanted to thank you for.. everything. You know, I -hitting my head that badly in a place like this, where everything is so unfamiliar, having to go to hospital... It was a pretty frightening prospect."
"Probably would have been for most people."
"Yeah. Well, when you showed up it just... didn't seem that scary anymore. Just... telling me what was going on, explaining things, taking care of me, staying on late... I owe you a big thanks for all that."
"Hey, you don't have to thank me. It's my job."
"Oh, you're programmed to say things like that. But really... Thank you." I felt his hand on my arm, he stroked it gently a few times, looking me in the eyes all the while. "I really mean it" those eyes said. It was a moment of such genuine sincerity. Don't blush. Don't you dare blush. I smiled gratefully at him and patted his shoulder.
"Thank you, James. I'm really glad I could be of help. And it's been very nice meeting you."
"You too." He took a step forward and his arms just closed around me in a grateful hug. Aaaaah he's hugging me! I felt his stubble against my cheek and the warmth of his skin as I wrapped my arms around him too, hugging him gently against me and then patting his back a few times before we broke apart, both wearing embarrassed grins.
"Um, do you have a piece of paper and a pen?"
"Er, yeah.. sure," I said, and rummaged around in my pockets. James hastily scribbled something on the scrap of paper and handed it back.
"Here. That's my um... Phone number. If you feel like it, you can maybe give me a call when you've moved to London? I mean, it can be a bit... rough, moving to a new place. Might be nice to have a friend in the city." My heart went out to him, he seemed so awkward and nervous. I gave him an encouraging smile. I'm considered a friend?
"Aw, thanks, that's so sweet of you..! You do know I might really take you up on this, yeah?" I waved the piece of paper at him.
"Yeah, sure, go ahead, just send me a text or just.. call."
"All right."
"Right, I better be off."
"I'll follow you outside."
"Yeah, we... thought maybe he was getting a bit bored by now," Andy explained.
"Hospitals are boring," Jeremy added impatiently in characteristic infantile manner. James was sitting on the edge of the bed, fresh t-shirt and jeans on, his packed bag ready on the floor. Richard was sitting on the bed next to James while the other two were sitting on chairs.
"We're not known for being very entertaining. Life-saving, yes. Entertaining, not so much. Listen, the doctor finished your discharge note. I'm adding in the original, but it was in Arabic so I got a friend of to translate it. He's french-arabic so this might need some explaining..." I mumbled, looking at the mess of spelling errors and grammatical mistakes. Richard shot up from the bed and gestured towards it, offering up his seat. "Thank you," I said with a little curtsy and sat down. "So, basically this is just a summary of what happened and what we've done. It says that you came in here because you'd hit your head, been unconscious and a bit disoriented, and that you had a gash in your head. But this you already know. Furthermore it says that you were checked neurologically and with a CT scan, showing no skull fracture or bleeds, but that you had a bad concussion. It also says that you were given a few stitches and got patched up, plus were given some fluids due to dehydration and some blood loss. So far so good?"
"Sounds about right," James nodded, the others nodded too.
"Then it says that you're discharged because symptoms have cleared and you don't require further treatment bla bla bla..." I read through it quickly. "I'm skipping the boring bits. Oh, right: You might have headaches for the next few days, which is very normal. Here's a box of paracetamol, same as you've had here. No more than four a day, though. Apologies for not being able to cough up something more interesting than your basic Panadol." I fished a rattling box of pills out of the pocket on my uniform, which James accepted with a grin. "But, and this is serious - if you get a blinding, crippling headache, or vertigo, or your vision goes blurry..." I shifted my focus from James to the other three. "If you notice that he suddenly becomes disoriented or start acting funny.." Jeremy opened his mouth, but I held up a hand to silence him. "Don't even go there, Jeremy." He shut up, looking stumped. "If any of that happens - get him to a doctor, yeah? Quickly." They all looked at me apprehensively, waiting for me to explain why. "His scan was clear and everything, but as I've said before; he did bang his head pretty badly, and even though he seems back to normal now, things can change. It's rare that they do, but still. All right?" I looked at all of them in turn, and they all nodded slowly and gravely. Secretly I kind of enjoyed lecturing them like school boys, and I was glad they were taking it seriously.
"Also, it's more important than ever that you keep properly hydrated, so drink lots. However, that does NOT include alcohol. No booze for at least three days." James' expression fell a bit. "I mean it. It could go badly wrong. Don't even think about it."
"Okay. I promise I won't." He said sincerely. Again I surveyed the others in turn, and they all murmured that he wouldn't.
"All right then. Moving on. That bandage has to stay on until tomorrow at the very least. There's a few gauze pads under there, those should be changed once a day and kept there for about four more days. Just use.. I don't know, a hat or a bandana or something to keep them in place." A pack of square guaze pads was fished out of my "nurses pocket of plenty" and handed over. "Stitches need to be removed in about 10 days. Will you be back home by then?"
"God, I hope so."
"Okay. Go to your doctor when you get back and have them taken out. Or an A&E or.. something. Get someone to pull them out with pliers for that matter, just get them out or you're stuck with suture thread in your scalp." James caught a look from Jeremy and raised a finger.
"No, Jeremy! You are not getting anywhere near my head with pliers or any other implements." Jeremy grinned maniacally.
"May I suggest the doctor alternative?" I proffered.
"I have a doctorate!" Jeremy argued.
"I probably will," James said and then shot me a smile. I drew a deep breath and sat up straight, proffering the papers to James.
"All right then, that's all I had to tell you, really. So, unless you have any questions or anything, I guess you are a free man." I looked at James as I got up.
"Wahey, you're out of here!" Richard said in his child-like manner, smiling broadly.
"That's.. good, great," James agreed, and also got up from the bed. It struck me that this was the first time I'd seen him on his feet since he came in. "Wow, you're really short," he exclaimed looking down at me. Oh god, not you too. "I mean, I haven't stood next to you before, and I didn't realise..."
"It's okay," I waved him down with a laugh. "I can take it. I know I'm short, I've accepted it." Everyone scrambled to their feet and Andy picked James' bag off the floor. Jeremy and Richard thanked me politely for helping their mate, and Andy also thanked me for helping with finding hotels and organising things. I replied that it was my pleasure. James lagged behind.
"I'll be out in a minute," he called after Andy, who disappeared through the door. Then he turned to look at me. "Listen, I just wanted to thank you for.. everything. You know, I -hitting my head that badly in a place like this, where everything is so unfamiliar, having to go to hospital... It was a pretty frightening prospect."
"Probably would have been for most people."
"Yeah. Well, when you showed up it just... didn't seem that scary anymore. Just... telling me what was going on, explaining things, taking care of me, staying on late... I owe you a big thanks for all that."
"Hey, you don't have to thank me. It's my job."
"Oh, you're programmed to say things like that. But really... Thank you." I felt his hand on my arm, he stroked it gently a few times, looking me in the eyes all the while. "I really mean it" those eyes said. It was a moment of such genuine sincerity. Don't blush. Don't you dare blush. I smiled gratefully at him and patted his shoulder.
"Thank you, James. I'm really glad I could be of help. And it's been very nice meeting you."
"You too." He took a step forward and his arms just closed around me in a grateful hug. Aaaaah he's hugging me! I felt his stubble against my cheek and the warmth of his skin as I wrapped my arms around him too, hugging him gently against me and then patting his back a few times before we broke apart, both wearing embarrassed grins.
"Um, do you have a piece of paper and a pen?"
"Er, yeah.. sure," I said, and rummaged around in my pockets. James hastily scribbled something on the scrap of paper and handed it back.
"Here. That's my um... Phone number. If you feel like it, you can maybe give me a call when you've moved to London? I mean, it can be a bit... rough, moving to a new place. Might be nice to have a friend in the city." My heart went out to him, he seemed so awkward and nervous. I gave him an encouraging smile. I'm considered a friend?
"Aw, thanks, that's so sweet of you..! You do know I might really take you up on this, yeah?" I waved the piece of paper at him.
"Yeah, sure, go ahead, just send me a text or just.. call."
"All right."
"Right, I better be off."
"I'll follow you outside."
Bright Syrian sunlight blinded me momentarily as I emerged from the entrance to the hospital, following James' footsteps. Jeremy was sitting on the stone balustrade smoking, Andy was rummaging around in the backseat of some sort of SUV and Richard was leaning against the hood of it, staring into the display of a huge SLR camera.
"Right guys, ready," James said loudly, blinking somewhat in the dazzling sunlight.
"OH!" Richard exclaimed, looking up from his camera and spotting the two of us. "Photo of the patient and the nurse! Go on!" He lit up with childish excitement and ran a few steps forwards, camera held in front of him. James rolled his eyes at me.
"He always does this, takes photos of bloody everything and everyone," he said quietly through the side of his mouth. "Just humour him," he muttered as he stood right next to me and slipped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me a bit closer, leaning into me. Automatically I wrapped my arm around his waist. We both smiled for the camera, and for once mine wasn't the stiff, fake grin I normally wore in pictures.
"I'm dying in this heat, can we get going now? The car DOES have aircon, right?" Jeremy roared, having finished his cigarette.
"Yes, Jezza, we're leaving now. Go sit in the car," Richard said, sounding like an impatient parent. Andy was already in the car, its engine running.
"Okay then.. "James looked down at me, his arm lingering on my back. This is it. Don't leeeeeave. Hit your head again? Please?
"Listen, take care of yourself now, all right? Don't.. get anywhere near towropes or.. rocks.. Just, be careful all right? All of you? And have fun, but not too much fun." I said, trying to sound stern and maternal but somehow it came out more pleadingly than I wanted to.
"I will, I'll stay on my feet. You take care too, all right? And be safe."
"I take care of everyone else, I don't have time for myself," I shrugged. "You guys be safe too. Have a good trip, and a good journey home." I patted him on the back, and to my surprise he wrapped both arms around me again in another hug, caressing my back as he did. I could've sworn I heard the click of a camera shutter. He let go, slouched off down the stairs towards the car. He turned around and waved before he got into the back seat. I waved back. And then he was gone.
"Right guys, ready," James said loudly, blinking somewhat in the dazzling sunlight.
"OH!" Richard exclaimed, looking up from his camera and spotting the two of us. "Photo of the patient and the nurse! Go on!" He lit up with childish excitement and ran a few steps forwards, camera held in front of him. James rolled his eyes at me.
"He always does this, takes photos of bloody everything and everyone," he said quietly through the side of his mouth. "Just humour him," he muttered as he stood right next to me and slipped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me a bit closer, leaning into me. Automatically I wrapped my arm around his waist. We both smiled for the camera, and for once mine wasn't the stiff, fake grin I normally wore in pictures.
"I'm dying in this heat, can we get going now? The car DOES have aircon, right?" Jeremy roared, having finished his cigarette.
"Yes, Jezza, we're leaving now. Go sit in the car," Richard said, sounding like an impatient parent. Andy was already in the car, its engine running.
"Okay then.. "James looked down at me, his arm lingering on my back. This is it. Don't leeeeeave. Hit your head again? Please?
"Listen, take care of yourself now, all right? Don't.. get anywhere near towropes or.. rocks.. Just, be careful all right? All of you? And have fun, but not too much fun." I said, trying to sound stern and maternal but somehow it came out more pleadingly than I wanted to.
"I will, I'll stay on my feet. You take care too, all right? And be safe."
"I take care of everyone else, I don't have time for myself," I shrugged. "You guys be safe too. Have a good trip, and a good journey home." I patted him on the back, and to my surprise he wrapped both arms around me again in another hug, caressing my back as he did. I could've sworn I heard the click of a camera shutter. He let go, slouched off down the stairs towards the car. He turned around and waved before he got into the back seat. I waved back. And then he was gone.
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