Author: Noellen PM
Jamie is a sarcastic 16 year old freak. This is her story about life and getting over hard times. Read and review my attempt to expand a one shot. Be nice! FemslashRated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Angst - Chapters: 2 - Words: 4,235 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 1 - Updated: 12-07-07 - Published: 12-01-07 - id: 2445263
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Inspired by my wonderful stays at 3 different hospitals.
I was actually really surprised at how people liked this, as it was only meant to be a one shot. I might as well add a bit more clarity to the story, and a few more chapters to it. Think of this as a prologue?
I breathed in slowly, taking in the faint sent of the hospital's drugs along with me. My arm ached painfully; an IV needle had been lodged firmly into my wrist for far too long. The clear tape made me shudder, they would be tugging all of that off tomorrow, and yet the nurses still insisted that they pile more tape upon the already existing mountain in order to keep it from slipping.
My arms had several other holes in them from various needles, both from drugs and blood samples. However, these didn't ache; they only bruised a sickly green-purple color.
I had been here for weeks, but I had limited visitors. My family came by occasionally but more often than not I turned them away with a confident smile and a fake yawn. "No, no, go back home I'm fine here and I just want to sleep."
I felt a dry chuckle grace my throat as I let my lips spread faintly into a smile. Sleep wasn't easy to come by here as every hour or something like that the nurses would come and check my always well vitals.
Another long, deep, breath of the hospital's smell and I closed my eyes listening blindly to the television as it went on. One of the channels in every hospital I'd been in was always the "patient channel" it was full of horrible medical explanations. I swear it was there to make you feel sicker than you were or question if you could possibly have some rare African disease when you'd never even been out of state.
Me, being merely 18, I couldn't care less about the nurses and their paid-to-be-pleasant attitudes. I honestly couldn't think of why they'd want to be a nurse, a doctor seemed a lot more respectful.
On the second day I'd been in this particular hospital I remember one day a volunteer lady came by, asking if I wanted any juice. It had taken me a few minutes but I recognized the lady as someone who had once hated me; she didn't know who I was but I knew who she was. She'd been my favorite teacher, but I was just another face in her classroom, wasn't I?
I hope my informing her made her wonder the rest of the day, and I hope even more that she didn't know who I was since it would be far more nagging if she never figured it out.
My bitter humor had only gotten worse when I realized none of my so-called friends would be calling me anytime soon. Not that I had honestly expected a phone call or anything from them, but it would have been nice. Thinking on it now, I knew I was only friends with most of them because of her. The girl who helped me completely ruin my already wrecked life.
Rubbing softly at my temples I groaned, the hospital beds here gave me such a headache, and I was doing far too much thinking.
When a nurse came in to check on me she gave me that same, trained, smile and questioned if I'd like anything while she checked my blood pressure. "Some ice." I answered her shortly, she simply nodded her head, brown hair tied back in a pony tail bouncing.
I knew that it would take a while for the ice, but for it to take nearly as long as it had was just weird, even for this neglecting hospital.
The only good thing about this particular hospital was that the walls were not white, in fact one of them was blue and the rest were an off white. Flicking off the television with a soft yawn I glanced out my window; what a horrible view of the hospital's roof. The lights from the city could be seen brightly shining in the dark of night. It was probably three in the morning by now, but I wasn't going to sleep anytime soon.
Absently, my hand free from an IV dipped under the hospital's uncomfortable sheet to run gently along my stomach. The lack of food had caused my stomach to sink in; the bones that had been hidden by a cute tummy now were sticking out quite profoundly. I supposed now I'd look better in a suit, although the feel of bones sticking out that far was a little concerning.
I could already hear my parents nagging me in my head which only served to worsen my headache.
As if some sort of god had heard my head's begging, a nurse walked in with a bag of ice. Happily I took it, and then thanked the lady wondering silently if it had been the same nurse I asked before.
I reached to my left and pushed the button to lower the bed straight into a sleeping position. After the machine's groaning stopped I re-arranged my pillows and set the ice bag down on top of one.
The ice was far more comfortable than that blasted pillow. This was my last night in the hospital, and I couldn't wait to leave. I had plenty of people to chew out, and a massage to go to, and I for one couldn't wait for either.
For as much as I'd complained over the span of time I'd been here, the Jell-O had been amazing.
The bitter thought was the last thing I remember, before sleep took over, my thoughts finally calming to dreams.
It was the gentle, caring, voice of my Mother who woke me up from my slumber. I whined in protest, body aching though my head admittedly felt a lot better. It was almost funny how sleeping on rock-hard ice had been better than sleeping on that horrible pillow, even though my face was freezing.
"Jamie." My mom's voice came back into my head, this time a little louder. Giving into the waking half of my body I slowly opened sleepy blue-gray eyes to look at my Mother. "Hm?" I asked, frowning when she just smiled happily.
"Are you ready to go home? The nurses said you could come home as soon as they get the IV out of you." Her hand was awkwardly placed on the railing of the bed, pink nails gently tapping on the plastic. We never really spoke words of love, nor of praise to one another but we both knew they were there. We both knew exactly how we felt –and we were close, in our own sort of way. After my Dad left Mom, she turned to me for support and I was there ready to give it in turn I slowly started to lose my openness with people.
"Yeah. You can go outside; I'll just be a few minutes..." I told her, after a few awkward moments of silence. My body was a little shaky when I sat up, feet dangling over the side of the bed. My side hurt from the lithotripsy that'd been done a few days before; no doubt there would be a bruise. At least my shoulder and body were no longer half as stiff as they had been. The morphine shot that'd been given to me was painful, and I shuddered in remembrance.
The process actually hadn't been as painful as I'd been lead to believe, and while I was thankful for that, I had the feeling that the drugs were the ones that had made it both intolerable and bearable.
Kidney stones was what I'd been put in the hospital for, they say that the pain of a kidney stone is worse than pregnancy it's self. I, for one, wasn't going to find out if that little story was true or not.
The nurse came in, snapping me out of my daze as she looked up me. This one actually looked like she was going to regret hurting me. Slowly the older woman pulled at the layers of tape, ripping with it dead skin and arm hair. Gritting my teeth I watched her, and then turned when the IV was pulled out and blood started rushing from my vein. That was the only part I couldn't stand. I barely registered the lame joke about me being a bleeder; I was not in the mood for jokes let alone hospital ones.
Thanks Orchidy and SickButPretty for your comments, suggestions, and encouragement.