Hospital Part I

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by Amoldfield

by Amoldfield

Angela's POV.

Three years ago, on this day, a man with blond hair was rushed into my hospital. His arm and leg were blown off in an explosion and he needed immediate medical attention. So, I got straight to work. I put him through an MRI scanner, to check if there were any remains of the explosive in him that needed to be taken out. Fortunately, there wasn't. This made my job a lot easier. I still needed to stop the bleeding and stitch him up in several places. But from what I could tell, there was no serious damage done to his organs. I got the supplies needed to fix him up on the shelf next to my work area. I gently cleaned his wounds and stitched him up carefully. I took him to a hospital room so that when he woke up, I would easily be able to check on him. It also made it so that if that space needed to be used, we could get to work on them without any problems. I checked over a couple of our other patients before heading back to the man's room. He had awakened! I knocked on his door to alert him that I was there. I headed over to his bed and kneeled down beside it. I told him of his current predicament. To my surprise, it seemed that it didn't bother him in the slightest. He needed a prosthetic arm and leg. The good thing was we had very well developed prosthetic arms. Unfortunately, we only had wooden legs at that time. That was something he would just have to learn to live with. I chatted with him for a few more minutes and told him to buzz the button next to his bed if he needed anything before I left him to rest. I finished my daily rounds and ate dinner in the cafe. The time was 7:46 pm when I had finished my supper. I thought about the man I had met earlier. He seemed a bit off like he had some mental issues. He didn't seem like the generic insane villain from a horror film. Sure, he might have been a little crazy, but he was still very kind to me. I'll be cautious around him, even though I didn't think I had much to worry about. It was now 8:01 pm, and just as I had packed my things to go home to my lonely apartment, one of the patient's buzzers goes off. I checked to see who had pushed their buttons, and it happened to be room 101, the room that held the crazy patient. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy he buzzed in. I walked quickly to his room and opened the door. I put on a smile, and he smiled back sweetly.

"What seems to be the problem?" I asked.

"Nothing, I was just lonely, and wanted to talk."

"May I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What's your name? I apologize I didn't ask you sooner."

"Jamison, that is my name," he replied a bit quieter than usual. "What should I call you? I should know the name of my savior."

"I am Angela."

So, we talked much more than we had done earlier. We both did an equal share of talking and listening. I checked the time after what only felt like minutes, 2:56 am. I really enjoined spending my time with him. He is an extremely caring guy. Yeah, sure, I may have confirmed my suspicion that he is a little insane, but I don't care. I told him I had to leave, and he understood completely. I took my bag and went home. As soon as I entered my apartment, and passed out on my bed.

Jamison's POV.

I laid in bed thinking about the doctor who kept me from bleeding out. She was kind, smart, and sweet. I could defiantly see being friends with her outside of the hospital setting. She would be the one who that prevented me from doing something crazy that I would regret. I hoped that I would get to talk to her more the next day. Slowly I started to doze off and eventually went to sleep.