1. Pre-Discharge Discharge


    Date: 3/17/2017, Categories: Taboo, Author: PervyStoryteller, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

    a human being again. It was with a huge sense of relief that, late one afternoon, my new doctor appeared to tell me that she was completely confident that I would be going home the next day. A nurse accompanied her, flushing my IV-catheter, and hooking me up to what I was told would be a final dose of antibiotics. I liked Nurse Helen. She was a no-nonsense bobbed blonde, around 30 years-old, I estimated, and clearly ambitious though she had her own way of expressing something of her own personality in a uniform environment. It seemed evident to me that whoever had designed the uniforms had been anxious to desexualize them. That’s understandable enough, but not everyone was happy with the screamingly drab ugliness; one of the nurses had actually confided to me that she found the uniforms “really horrid”. Helen’s way around this was to wear different coloured nylons every day, which fascinated me. Honestly, when you’re trapped in solitary in a hospital, any small detail becomes fascinating. I couldn’t see anything of Nurse Helen’s legs beyond calves and ankles, but it was enough. Today she was wearing purple. I wanted to ask Nurse Helen if she ever got into trouble over this idiosyncratic colour scheme, but it didn’t seem proper. By now I was well-enough acquainted with the rota to know that Nurse Helen had just started her shift, and would disappear at some point in the early hours, while I was fast asleep. A while later another nurse, Sophie, showed up; it was mealtime. I ...
    imagined that since I was well enough to go home, I was well enough to eat in the canteen, but Nurse Sophie wasn’t having it. They needed to be on the safe side. I liked Nurse Sophie. She’d only been a fully trained nurse for a year or two, and if I’d met her anywhere else, I wouldn’t have had her pegged as a nurse at all. She had a goth-lite thing going on, with white streaks in jet black hair that would have cascaded down to her shoulders were it not tied back. She wore muted, shadowy make-up, and tattoos ran the length of both arms. I only knew this because I’d glimpsed one and quizzed her about it, upon which she gladly rolled up her sleeves and told me about them. One was a copy of the famous head from Munch’s The Scream. “A former patient?” I guessed, which made her laugh. Evening dragged on. In desperation I reached for the remote control and watched some asinine game show that far from making me better almost made me want to kill myself. Nurse Sophie appeared to collect my tray; Nurse Helen appeared to remove the spent bag of liquid antibiotics. A film came on, so dull it was impossible to keep my eyes open. I awoke from my slumber when the door opened, and I heard the familiar bustle. Both Nurse Helen and Nurse Sophie; that was unusual. “Two nurses,” I observed. “It must be something serious.” Nurse Sophie was already preparing to check my blood-pressure, and I held out my arm obligingly. “We just need to check that everything’s in working order before your discharge,” ...
«1234...1011»