Sheriff from Milton's Hospital

“Shut the fuck up, asshole”, I shouted at one of the patients.

I’m tired of all the patients I’ve had in Milton’s. Some of them won’t die because they want to live, some of them want to die but death won’t come to them easily. It’s their sins and everything they fucked up with, in their whole lives.

I don’t get time. I don’t get any time for neither myself nor to look at each of them individually. Sometimes, I am having my lunch trying to peacefully think about what music I want to listen in the night. And, all of a sudden nurses will start banging my cabin door saying that these beasts are calling them badly, that patient’s family wants to get rid of their broken in the mind spouse and want us to overdose the patient, some come and tell me that there’s not enough O Positive blood left in the Blood Bank.

I am frustrated. Is Blood Bank being empty my fault ? “Where the fuck are the god’s process”, I sighed and asked myself.

To introduce myself, the writer and the narrator, I’m Dr. Spencer Wilde and I’m a multi-specialist. In my 40 year career, I have dealt with a patient of every kind of disease. Majority of them have been mental health patients and the others were cancer patients.

I can’t stop thinking about why am I having to deal with all the miserable patients.

A shout came in, “Dr. Spencer, can you come to Room 234 General Ward ? The patient seems to be crying this whole time trying to hurt themselves with the tiny syringe attached to their saline. Should I detonate the bomb with Propofol to put the patient to a light hearted sleep ?”.

I said, “What the fuck, no, don’t. Let’s listen to what their agony is speaking.”

I received another call, “Dr. Spencer, we need you here in Room 234, Bed No. 12 for the cancer patient. They don’t seem to have a lot of time left.”

I said, “Ohh, misery has made my stethescope its beloved home, hold on, I’m coming to the same ward”.

I see 2-3 deaths every day in the General Ward. I don’t expect things to end, but I atleast expect things to stop for a while. The sinousidal waveform metric we capture every month is always up and down with the number of death’s going higher and lower the whole time. My mood is always spoiled the whole time because of this.

Also, those are one of my most beloved patients who have gone through a lot in the last 23 years. I always feel sorry myself looking at their lives and I have put myself to shreds for not being able to diagnose them for the past 6 years of mastery.

I got into the lift and went on the 2nd floor. Just as I got out of the lift, Ms. Mary one of the oldest nurses came towards me running and said, “Dr. I was just running towards your cabin. It’s the girl from General Ward”.

I sighed, “Not one more”.

The three patients who are on the last few moments of their lives arguably are one of my favorite patients. This little girl has been suffering through mental trauma which was caused due to her Blood Disease has just gone through enough suffering.

I remember a conversation with her from a long before, she was kind of new in the ward, just admitted and most importantly she was hopeful. I fixed her, let her go and she kept coming in after every 3-4 months. The cycle never stopped. I often knew what was going in her mind when she was in front of me or away from me. But, I couldn’t ever see her and experience what she was feeling when she was away.

She told me, “I’m done, I can’t handle this blood clots any more. Could you please set me free ? I will walk the stairs, down or up, doesn’t matter. But, I really want to take a leave Mr. Spencer”.

I remember, I couldn’t say much. I just patted my hands on her head and said, “You never say things like this. It’s fine. But, I wish I could replace myself with you”. By the way, she’s an awesome piano player though. Very persistent and a hard worker. I went to one of her school shows after she was in the false hope of being set free for almost 1 year until she returned back to Milton’s.

I remember, how pretty she looked that day on the school stage. She wore a very elegant blue skirt, white socks, black shoes. Her mama straightened her short hair and let a few tinier ones fall over her forehead. I felt very wholesome when I saw her smile.

By the time, I reached the General Ward, the first patient who was a male had left his soul already. Out of 3 heavy risk patients, I had already lost one.

I started hallucinating. All of a sudden, I felt that all the nurses around me had turned into vampires with surgical knives in their hands. They were walking towards me with crooked legs. They came towards me faster and started piercing the knives in the left side of my body.

Maria called for me saying, “Dr. what happen ? Are you fine ? He’s already dead”.

I said, “Yeah I’m fine and I can see that”.

Sometimes, all I want to do is write grief. But, in these moments of grief all I can see is butterflies around me. The butterflies emerging out of these bodies freeing themselves from pain and agony.

The male patients name was “Richard Van’couver”. He was certainly a passionate and a man of unobvious pride in himself. He was a good writer though. He once showed me one of the few love letters he wrote to his wife before they tied knots. I loved his handwriting the most, even more than the words. He wrote cursive and the letters were in their mother tongue.

I did not have much time left. Nurse Angela came to me and said, “Doc, Hurry up, she’s in her final moments too”.

My body kept on growing pale and I was losing energy. I could feel this weird sensation through my legs and body of weakness. I felt a sudden flow of cold and hot blood clinging with my veins.

I went towards Gracie’s bed and said, “Hey Gracie, how are you feeling? what’s wrong ?”.

She replied, “Hey Spencer, great to see you. Not well from the looks of it though. Cancer and Low Blood Pressure are becoming close friends in my body. I can feel sudden shocks in my body. I wish I had the will to eat some Fish and Chips every day. Sadly, I don’t”.

I held her hand in mine and said, “Ahh, missus, Be brave. You’re going to be fine. You don’t have to fear anything, Low BP and Cancer are just temporary Killjoys in yer life”.

I tried to cheer gracie up, but.

She stopped responding, her hand felt like a doll’s hand which I was forcibly holding in mine. The doll did not really want to be held, so I let go the doll’s hands. And, gracie’s hand fell lifelessly on the bed with her eyes open.

I let her go, closed her eyes and ran towards my little child who was hurting herself with the syringe from her medicinal salines.

I was chanting, “I don’t want her to die” the whole time. I ran towards her bed.

Nurse Mary had been waiting for me, doing nothing. What could she even do when this little girl had already stopped breathing. There was blood all over the bed and her left arm.

Nurse Mary said sobbingly, “Dr. Spencer, it seems she was piercing her left arm for 2-3 hours and she went completely unnoticed as it was under the blanket. I am extremely sorry that no one was here to look at her. She had hid her hand underneath the blanket. And it went unnoticed”.

I could just see the blood, vampires, and syringes in front of my eyes. I fell on to the ground in hopelessness.

There was a scenery before me now, little girl wearing the same dress and practicing piano in the general ward, Richard and Gracy standing by her side while Gracie’s hand was on little girl’s head".

I fell down on the floor crying and looking at the floor.

Gracie said, “Spencer, we want to watch you in your life ahead.”