Thursday, April 08, 2004
Wheel of Time
Looking at rota to check shift. Wow. It's the 8th of Apr already.
Another year gone by. Another birthday approaching. Yay me.
Six years now. Oh, wait. Seven.
*****
He deftly flicks the metal fleck from his patient's eye. "All done, sir" he pipes triumphantly, and with a smooth, practised flourish slides the stilletto thin needle single-handedly into its sheath, a hard, clear plastic...
...finger. Eh? They goggle mutely at the blue lancet protruding from the pulp of his middle finger. A drop of blood crawls down its shaft.
Bugger.
Automatic failsafe system initiating cortical bypass. needlestick injury. Alert, Alert. Need to inform occu health. Oh wait, no. Eye. Cornea. No antigens. Low blood supply. No risk of transmitted infection. Phew.
Oh. Better pull it out now. Patient's starting to look at me funny.
*****
The last thing I saw yesterday, bundled in my full-length overcoat and stepping out the door was a woman with a head injury. Her car fell forty feet off a cliff.
Flailing madly, strapped down. Her face a massive pool of - bright red - blood, save for the glazed whites of her staring eyes. Limbs jerking.
Blood. Trickling onto the floor as the parameds run past. A steady trail of large drops marks the point of her entrance into A&E to her destination in resusc.
I feel a bit faint. This has never happened to me before, either. Blood and me (long as its someone elses) are A-ok.
I run after them into resusc. Hell, everyone runs into resusc.
Two extra parameds stare at me incuriously and ask me my business. Wow. Parameds and security staff. Two for the price of one. I remind them that I'm one of their own, even though I'm in civvies at the moment. They relax and speculate about the mechanism of injury. Know her, gets blackouts. Car went right over the edge. etc.
Monitors announce their awakenings with excited beeps.
Enough. I turn and leave.
*****
Feather Boy
by Nicky Singer.
It wasn't the TV series I wrote about previously.
But it was a beautiful, beautiful story.
Sad, but beautiful. And filled with hope.
Choked up.
Recommended highly by Re-minisce, not-so-great not-quite Author.
Looking at rota to check shift. Wow. It's the 8th of Apr already.
Another year gone by. Another birthday approaching. Yay me.
Six years now. Oh, wait. Seven.
*****
He deftly flicks the metal fleck from his patient's eye. "All done, sir" he pipes triumphantly, and with a smooth, practised flourish slides the stilletto thin needle single-handedly into its sheath, a hard, clear plastic...
...finger. Eh? They goggle mutely at the blue lancet protruding from the pulp of his middle finger. A drop of blood crawls down its shaft.
Bugger.
Automatic failsafe system initiating cortical bypass. needlestick injury. Alert, Alert. Need to inform occu health. Oh wait, no. Eye. Cornea. No antigens. Low blood supply. No risk of transmitted infection. Phew.
Oh. Better pull it out now. Patient's starting to look at me funny.
*****
The last thing I saw yesterday, bundled in my full-length overcoat and stepping out the door was a woman with a head injury. Her car fell forty feet off a cliff.
Flailing madly, strapped down. Her face a massive pool of - bright red - blood, save for the glazed whites of her staring eyes. Limbs jerking.
Blood. Trickling onto the floor as the parameds run past. A steady trail of large drops marks the point of her entrance into A&E to her destination in resusc.
I feel a bit faint. This has never happened to me before, either. Blood and me (long as its someone elses) are A-ok.
I run after them into resusc. Hell, everyone runs into resusc.
Two extra parameds stare at me incuriously and ask me my business. Wow. Parameds and security staff. Two for the price of one. I remind them that I'm one of their own, even though I'm in civvies at the moment. They relax and speculate about the mechanism of injury. Know her, gets blackouts. Car went right over the edge. etc.
Monitors announce their awakenings with excited beeps.
Enough. I turn and leave.
*****
Feather Boy
by Nicky Singer.
It wasn't the TV series I wrote about previously.
But it was a beautiful, beautiful story.
Sad, but beautiful. And filled with hope.
Choked up.
Recommended highly by Re-minisce, not-so-great not-quite Author.
