Luck of the Draw

Chapter 12 - Health Care

Mickey lay on the floor looking first at Bert and then at Agnes, wishing they could understand. None of the others seemed to be paying any attention at all. The fall had been another clumsy attempt to carry a tray between his cast and one wrist and when he stepped on the end of the cane, which had fallen over on the floor, he blundered down. The cast on his originally injured hand had broken and was now trapped underneath one edge of his coffee table, summoning horrific thoughts of the clinic.

Saturday was bad. Sunday was definitely worse.

He managed to stretch his other hand to the table that held his cell phone and with more bad luck shook it off the table onto his forehead. Pinning it with an elbow, he dialled 911 with his little finger and then lay his chin on the phone while kneading the swelling on his head.

"This is your 911 operator, what is your emergency?"

"I've fallen and I can't get up."

"Sir, practical jokes are not well received; this line is for people who need real assistance."

"But I do. I fell and I can't get up. I have a broken leg and two broken hands."

"What is your name please?"

Mickey Schafer. I live at—

"And your address please."

He gave her the address and started with the circumstances when she cut him off again.

"Sir, can you open your apartment door if it is locked so the responders can gain access."

"No I can't! I told you I can't get up."

"Sir we need cooperation if we are going to provide the service you require."

"Just send someone will you!"

"Is there a neighbour you can contact for temporary assistance?"

"No."

"Sir, if I may, you managed to call us."

"I'm on the floor of my apartment in extreme discomfort with a cell phone that I can't hold any longer."

"Does your building require an entry code?"

"No!"

"Do you have elevators or stairs?"

"Stairs! It's only two floors."

"Are there fire doors at the stairwells?"

"For God's sake, woman, will you please send somebody. They can come in the door up the stairs and into my apartment. If they can't get in they have my permission to break the bloody door down."

"I'm sorry sir we need written permission for that type of entry. I can send you a form that you can fill out and return and we will keep it on file."

"You are the devil, madam. I concede. Take me to hell and let me at least suffer for a reason."

"I'm forwarding your request as we speak. Just remain calm and if you can meet the responders at street level it will move things along much more efficiently."

Mickey gurgled deliriously.

!!!!!

He rode the speeding gurney like a luge sled through the hospital corridor, his teammates skidding down the tile hallways and around corners to the emergency exam rooms where they let him go, sailing into a cart filled with dirty food trays. The level of panic was indicated by the shouting of both paramedics and hospital staff, unfortunately none of it was due to concern for Mickey.

When they had arrived and kicked in Mickey's door—without the proper, filed permission—a smaller version of Bert, named Naughty, tipped over from a stand beside the door and stabbed one of the medics in the leg. Believing they had stumbled into some mad botanist's experimental lab and that the strange plants could be poisonous, brought about a high speed, wild ride through the dinner time traffic, hoping to get rush treatment for the injured medic.

An orderly cleaned up the wreckage his crash had caused and then shoved him into a cubicle and closed the curtains. Mickey didn't care what the reason, at this point he was just grateful for any attention. That was a sentiment he soon retracted when his nemesis from the clinic threw back the curtain and bulldozed her way into his cubicle.

"Why am I not surprised, Mr. Schafer that this stage four emergency alert involved you?"

"Why are you here?" Mickey felt his heart trip.

"Unlike some residents of this community there are those who choose to serve when and where they are needed." She grabbed his sore wrist and took his pulse then jammed a thermometer into his mouth, disregarding the use of the more hygienic and sensitive electronic version.

Mickey watched as she prepared various needles and medications on the tray beside his head, a grim smile creeping over her sinister features.

"Hmmmn, up a few points."

"Really? Is that dangerous?"

"For some. I'm going to give you a shot so just lie still and don't be complaining."

"A pre-emptive move against a possible pandemic infection. What on earth were you growing in that laboratory? The hospital is under an orange alert."

"What? It's not a laboratory, it was my apartment. And it's a collection of cacti, there's nothing dangerous about them. Pandemic?"

"Hmmph, tell that to the poor man in the next room. His leg is the size of a duffle bag."

"It must be an allergy of some kind. Cacti aren't poisonous in that way. You'd have to ingest them... some of them. There are species that you can eat actually. The prickly pear cactus for example have whitish, yellow, orange, or red flowers and greenish-brown, yellow, yellowish-green, red, or purple fruit, which are suitable for human consumption. The plants themselves are also edible and are commonly used for livestock feed." His panic had him babbling.

The nurse stared at him with venomous eyes and took little care in breaking off the damaged cast before giving his hand a rough examination. Mickey endured the torture like a man.

"OWWWW! Jesus, woman! It's broken, remember!" His complaint was stifled as the spear of a needle was plunged into the skin of his arm.

!!!!!

Carly arrived home to find the other residents gathered in the upper hallway where the ruined door to Mickey's apartment was held in place with duct tape. Murmurs of fear mixed with curiosity dribbled down the stairs and she clambered up quickly, hosting a dreaded fear of her own.

"What on earth happened?" She pushed the broken door aside and leaned through the opening and saw one of the cacti lying on the floor, partially out of its pot. "Oh dear." She climbed through, and the curious crowd gasped as she helped the plant up and repacked the soil about the roots then gave it a small drink of the specially treated water Mickey kept by the side of his sink.

"You shouldn't be touching those things. They nearly killed the ambulance man." A house-coated denizen from down the hall advised.

"Could be alien spores waitin' to take us over." Another cautioned worriedly.

"They're just plants. He collects them." Carly said. "What ambulance man? What happened here?"

She listened to various versions from witnesses to wannabes, and with no useful information except the hospital site, Carly got back in her car and drove across town.