The God Codex

8. Sterile

BOOK OF MIA: 2081

Chapter 8: Sterile

[*Warning: Chapter contains some descriptions of injuries some may find graphic and is not intended to upset anyone.]

I wake to stare at the stark white ceiling. Long tube lights burn bright and my eyes narrow from the onslaught. I panic, gagging on something shoved down my throat. I claw at my neck and mouth, trying to pull out the breathing tube, and my throat clamps down on it in my panic. But the sensation that I cannot breathe has me trying to go tube-free.

"Hold on, child! You're going to rip your stitches open and damage your throat!" An elderly nurse pulls the white curtains aside and rushes to my side, slapping my hands away. "You're intubated! Just relax, and Doctor Hill will take it out properly. She's on her way."

"Relax." Her grip on my hands softens, and she squeezes them instead, trying to reassure me.

She lets go of one of my hands and I grab her desperately. Don't leave me! Don't leave me. Whoever you are. Don't leave me. I eye her chest for a name badge. She doesn't have one. What kind of nurse doesn't wear a name badge? Then again, her uniform is a little too military for my liking. Grey, tailored, monochrome. Everything in here is monochrome. How boring? I miss my fairy-lights and colourful room, even though I resemble a goth most of the time. I have an inner fairy, alright, sue me!

She returns my squeeze, hearing my wheezing panicked breath. "I'm not leaving. I'm right here. Just going to give you a dose of morphine. Bet that chest of yours is hurting a little."

I nod. Or at least try. My head is pounding. The worst time to have one of my notorious migraines. As the morphine courses through my veins, despite my discomfort and the desperate sensation that I cannot breathe, I relax. I close my eyes, wanting it to be over. All of it. Whatever it was. Part of it feels like last night was a giant nightmare that I am struggling to wake from. But I'm in some kind of hospital, intubated; my chest hurts, my head throbs, and I can smell the sterile, chlorine-rich air around me. They all tell me otherwise. This is as real and that's fudged!

The nurse pats my hand before letting go. "Now, I'm going to check your bandages before Dr Hill gets here, okay? She won't be long."

Her icy hands untie the front of my robe and brush past my sensitive skin, causing goosebumps to ripple across my entire body. Her hand pulls at the corner of the medical tape, securing the dressing to a large area of my chest. I watch, curious to see this hole that almost had me dying, and I'm surprised I'm pretty much naked. My chest is bare except for the blood-soaked bandages. My embarrassingly small breasts, out for people to see. Thank God the bandages cover one side at least.

As I hear footsteps approach us, I move my robe over the other half of my chest, trying to preserve a bit of my dignity.

I catch the nurse eyeing me. She smiles. "Don't feel embarrassed. We are here to help you."

I try to smile, though the tube won't let me. Instead, I watch as she peels the bandage away from my chest.

Her brows knit together as confusion reigns over her face then. She moves in closer to stare at the area I cannot see. Her head's in my way, and I'm unable to move because of the tube inside me. I squeeze her forearm. What is it?

She eyes me and shakes her head, placing the bandage back over the wound as a woman wearing a stethoscope around her slender neck enters the cubicle, pushing the curtain aside further, revealing a vast concrete hangar filled with hospital beds. The pop of red on her lips is the only colour to break the drabness.