The Memory of a Dream

Restraint

 I was nervous as I stood in front of the restraint room door. I could see him through the small window, though his image was distorted due to the thick, plastic glass.

I swiped my badge and entered the room as quietly as I could as not to startle the soldier. I was too focused on my med cart to notice the bite strap immediately. As soon as I did I called Chip.

"Chip!....Chip can I see you please?", I said urgently into the walkie.

Chip was there within a moment and he peered in with a curious look on his face.

"What is this?!", I said pointing to the bite strap.

"He was erratic and violent. We knew his injuries had to be cleaned up and we can't take any chances. You want him spitting on you or worse, biting you!?", Chips questioned.

I just shook my head no and Chip left. His thudding footsteps getting further away.

I looked at the soldier. I was against the bite strap for any patient. I thought it was cruel and inhumane, but I understood it's purpose.

The soldier looked like a caged animal. Each wrist and ankle spread out and secured with a thick leather strap and bronze buckles. The bite strap was the same leather but specifically made to fit in the mouth and around the back of the head with two straps, so it couldn't be wiggled off.

The soldier was breathing heavy and fast. His fists were clenched and his calves so tight that his legs were lifting off the bed. His brown hair was matted to his face with sweat and he had bloody scrapes on his face and neck. He had fought and he had fought hard.

"Hi, Mr. Barnes. I know this is less than ideal, but I'm here to help you. I need to get your cuts cleaned up. We don't want infection.", I said to him as calmly as I could.

He didn't make a noise, but he was looking at me. He was looking and his eyes had emotion, they weren't empty like before, they were desperate and they were blue like the ocean.

I rolled the med cart a little closer and put on gloves. I got out the antiseptic and some cotton swabs and bandages.

"This might sting a little. Chip mentioned you cut your head pretty badly, he didn't think you could tolerate stitches so I'm just using gonna sterile strips okay?....Shouldn't hurt at all...except for the antiseptic.", I said to him softly.

As I got closer to him, I brushed the hair out of his face, away from his eyes. I was leaning over his face and I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. He just stared up at me. He looked helpless, I felt awful about it.

"Hey, your eyes are blue.....they looked much darker before.....okay, well, um, I'm gonna clean this cut.It may sting.", I said to him locked in his gaze.

I touched the cotton ball to his wound and he winced just a bit. I immediately apologized, something I never do for cleaning a wound that a patient caused on his own.

"This isn't too bad but it does need to close up...", I just rambled...my nervousness made me unsure of what to say. "Steri strips will do just fine, they may need to be changed, though if they come off....I'm sorry you're in this predicament but I told you that you didn't wanna end up in here. They may keep you here a couple of hours if you calm down, if not, it may be longer. It sucks to be restrained too, your muscles and joints ache so much after a while.", every time I glanced down at him, he was looking up at me. He looked calmer, softer, he had a warmth about him, I wasn't sure why. Here is this traumatized war vet, tied down to a table in a psych ward with a bridle in his mouth and he's calm. I assume it was the cocktail injection they gave him.

I cleaned up the cuts and scrapes that were scattered on his head and neck, I was checking the rest of him visually when I noticed his hand was bleeding. His hands were still in tight fists and his knuckles were turning white.