Yay, Thread zombification!
Also, about 2 months later than I expected to get this out the door. Hopefully there won't be such a large gap in the next pieces.
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Smoldering Decay:
[A Hero Sandwich Production]
Memories (pt 3)
It was three days before the bandages came off. It was three days of questions and tests. And three nights of nightmares, my mind reliving the last things I had seen in seemingly endless array of permutations. People I knew, both alive and dead, traded places in a macabre game of musical chairs in my head. But hopefully that would be over soon. Being able to see meant that I could take care of myself, for however long I had left.
The room was dark at first, nothing more than varying shades of black and grey with a vague sense of depth.
"You ok? It's not too bright?" The nurse, Tim, asked.
I nodded and looked in his direction. The only thing I saw was a blurry outline of a person, slightly lighter than the surrounding grays and blacks, in a coverall that might be blue. "I can see you. I think." I said trying to pick out more details than just a blue fuzzy shape.
"Alright, I'm going to bring the lights up a bit at a time. Let me know if they get too bright." Tim said.
I heard a few beeps and the lights slowly brightened, transforming a blurry wash of blacks and grays into a blurry wash of grays and pastels. Except that now I could tell where the floor, walls, and ceiling were. Tim's figure became a little more defined and most definitely blue. Holding up my hand proved it wasn't just a problem seeing things at a distance. I could tell it was a hand. It was properly flesh colored and it had five fingers. But any of the fine details that defined it as my hand refused to come into focus. I concentrated harder to try and bring clarity to my sight, but all that I got was the inclining of a headache behind my eves.
I sighed in frustration and leaned back in the bed. "I can't focus on anything, it's all a blur." I tried to keep the frustration out of my voice, but I don't think I was all that successful.
"Don't try too hard, your retinas took a beating. They haven't had anything to do for the past three days. Give them a minute to catch up." Tim's voice carried the vague wisps of caution through the speaker on his suit. Which meant he must have been trying rather hard to convey his concern. I tried to swallow the frustration that rose in my gut. I had been waiting three days to see again, I could wait a few more hours to see clearly.
I stared at the ceiling, seeing nothing but a off-white wash of color. I knew that there should be details to pick up, but none resolved themselves out of the blur. After all the expectation that had been growing for the past three days, I couldn't stop the depressed sigh that left my lips.
Tim apparently took that as a sign to try and cheer me up, or at least take my mind off of my ocular issues. "I do have some good news." He said as he walked back to the bedside. "We aren't seeing any signs of radiation poisoning or impending systemic organ failure." His voice was upbeat and encouraging, but there was a lot left unsaid.
"But your still in the suit." I finished for him. "And I'm not going to be leaving here anytime soon, am I?" I guess that avoiding the gruesome and painful death that results from lethal doses of radiation poisoning can be considered a good thing, but being stuck in isolation for the rest of my -natural?- life didn't sound much better.
"You know how it is, perhaps better than most. As soon as someone from the radiology department is available we can get a better idea." His voice was apologetic, but I didn't blame him. I knew far too well what the situation was. Everyone was pulling 12 hour days, from the department heads to the interns. And non-life threatening cases got sorted to the bottom. The unspoken bad news was that since I was no longer in imminent danger of total organ failure, my priority got shifted to the bottom of the queue. I supposed that when they needed the room I might get someone too look at what was going wrong with me. But right now saving lives came first, and I couldn't bring myself to be angry at them for making that decision, not really.
"I know." I agreed, trying not to let the feelings of frustration and disappointment stomp all over what should have been good news. "I know what I somehow managed to avoid." I switched my focus from the ceiling to his blurry form. "Days or weeks of excruciating pain while my body dies and rots from the inside is not something I ever want to experience". I had to pause for a moment and try to forget the faces of those who hadn't had my luck. Heroes that had been transfered from Kings Row, dosed with more radiation than even they could stand. Some recovered, a few changed, but far too many just wasted away.
"I just can't help feeling that I should be helping people. Instead of just laying here, waiting for a lull in the fighting" I said, trying to refrain from snapping at Tim. He was only the messenger in this, and my only real human contact the past couple of days. Getting angry with him would be pointless and counterproductive.
Tim was silent for a few minutes before he spoke again. "Give me a few days, I might be able to get a mage to ward up one of these suits. That would at least get you out of here."
I was tempted to jump out of bed and hug him, but I doubt that I could have pulled that off without tripping. "Thank you! I'd even do paperwork for 12 hours if it got me out of this room." Of course at the end of the first day I wasn't so sure I would feel the same way, but right now I didn't care.
What might have been a laugh emerged from the speaker on Tim's suit. "Tell you what, do your own paperwork first, and we'll see about letting you deal with other's."
Tim's reminder about my vision may have been a little harsh, but it wasn't totally unneeded. I got so wrapped up in the idea of getting out of this room that I had skipped right over the prerequisites. Being able to walk around the hospital wouldn't do me, or anyone else, any good if I couldn't read anything or see clearly enough to recognize peoples faces.
Soon Tim had to leave to take care of the rest of his rounds. And I spent the next few hours trying to focus on different things around the room. Eventually I had to stop due an impending headache, but I think things were slightly clearer than when I started. All in all, today was a good day. I had one thing I didn't think I would have for quite some time. Hope. And hope is powerful thing indeed.
----------
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy
Also, about 2 months later than I expected to get this out the door. Hopefully there won't be such a large gap in the next pieces.
----------
Smoldering Decay:
[A Hero Sandwich Production]
Memories (pt 3)
It was three days before the bandages came off. It was three days of questions and tests. And three nights of nightmares, my mind reliving the last things I had seen in seemingly endless array of permutations. People I knew, both alive and dead, traded places in a macabre game of musical chairs in my head. But hopefully that would be over soon. Being able to see meant that I could take care of myself, for however long I had left.
The room was dark at first, nothing more than varying shades of black and grey with a vague sense of depth.
"You ok? It's not too bright?" The nurse, Tim, asked.
I nodded and looked in his direction. The only thing I saw was a blurry outline of a person, slightly lighter than the surrounding grays and blacks, in a coverall that might be blue. "I can see you. I think." I said trying to pick out more details than just a blue fuzzy shape.
"Alright, I'm going to bring the lights up a bit at a time. Let me know if they get too bright." Tim said.
I heard a few beeps and the lights slowly brightened, transforming a blurry wash of blacks and grays into a blurry wash of grays and pastels. Except that now I could tell where the floor, walls, and ceiling were. Tim's figure became a little more defined and most definitely blue. Holding up my hand proved it wasn't just a problem seeing things at a distance. I could tell it was a hand. It was properly flesh colored and it had five fingers. But any of the fine details that defined it as my hand refused to come into focus. I concentrated harder to try and bring clarity to my sight, but all that I got was the inclining of a headache behind my eves.
I sighed in frustration and leaned back in the bed. "I can't focus on anything, it's all a blur." I tried to keep the frustration out of my voice, but I don't think I was all that successful.
"Don't try too hard, your retinas took a beating. They haven't had anything to do for the past three days. Give them a minute to catch up." Tim's voice carried the vague wisps of caution through the speaker on his suit. Which meant he must have been trying rather hard to convey his concern. I tried to swallow the frustration that rose in my gut. I had been waiting three days to see again, I could wait a few more hours to see clearly.
I stared at the ceiling, seeing nothing but a off-white wash of color. I knew that there should be details to pick up, but none resolved themselves out of the blur. After all the expectation that had been growing for the past three days, I couldn't stop the depressed sigh that left my lips.
Tim apparently took that as a sign to try and cheer me up, or at least take my mind off of my ocular issues. "I do have some good news." He said as he walked back to the bedside. "We aren't seeing any signs of radiation poisoning or impending systemic organ failure." His voice was upbeat and encouraging, but there was a lot left unsaid.
"But your still in the suit." I finished for him. "And I'm not going to be leaving here anytime soon, am I?" I guess that avoiding the gruesome and painful death that results from lethal doses of radiation poisoning can be considered a good thing, but being stuck in isolation for the rest of my -natural?- life didn't sound much better.
"You know how it is, perhaps better than most. As soon as someone from the radiology department is available we can get a better idea." His voice was apologetic, but I didn't blame him. I knew far too well what the situation was. Everyone was pulling 12 hour days, from the department heads to the interns. And non-life threatening cases got sorted to the bottom. The unspoken bad news was that since I was no longer in imminent danger of total organ failure, my priority got shifted to the bottom of the queue. I supposed that when they needed the room I might get someone too look at what was going wrong with me. But right now saving lives came first, and I couldn't bring myself to be angry at them for making that decision, not really.
"I know." I agreed, trying not to let the feelings of frustration and disappointment stomp all over what should have been good news. "I know what I somehow managed to avoid." I switched my focus from the ceiling to his blurry form. "Days or weeks of excruciating pain while my body dies and rots from the inside is not something I ever want to experience". I had to pause for a moment and try to forget the faces of those who hadn't had my luck. Heroes that had been transfered from Kings Row, dosed with more radiation than even they could stand. Some recovered, a few changed, but far too many just wasted away.
"I just can't help feeling that I should be helping people. Instead of just laying here, waiting for a lull in the fighting" I said, trying to refrain from snapping at Tim. He was only the messenger in this, and my only real human contact the past couple of days. Getting angry with him would be pointless and counterproductive.
Tim was silent for a few minutes before he spoke again. "Give me a few days, I might be able to get a mage to ward up one of these suits. That would at least get you out of here."
I was tempted to jump out of bed and hug him, but I doubt that I could have pulled that off without tripping. "Thank you! I'd even do paperwork for 12 hours if it got me out of this room." Of course at the end of the first day I wasn't so sure I would feel the same way, but right now I didn't care.
What might have been a laugh emerged from the speaker on Tim's suit. "Tell you what, do your own paperwork first, and we'll see about letting you deal with other's."
Tim's reminder about my vision may have been a little harsh, but it wasn't totally unneeded. I got so wrapped up in the idea of getting out of this room that I had skipped right over the prerequisites. Being able to walk around the hospital wouldn't do me, or anyone else, any good if I couldn't read anything or see clearly enough to recognize peoples faces.
Soon Tim had to leave to take care of the rest of his rounds. And I spent the next few hours trying to focus on different things around the room. Eventually I had to stop due an impending headache, but I think things were slightly clearer than when I started. All in all, today was a good day. I had one thing I didn't think I would have for quite some time. Hope. And hope is powerful thing indeed.
----------
-Terry
-----
"so listen up boy, or pornography starring your mother will be the second worst thing to happen to you today"
TF2: Spy