Come and Go (Part Two)

Chapter 1

A bird who hurt her wing,

Now forgotten how to fly.

A song she used to sing,

but can't remember why.

A breath she caught and kept-

that left her in a sigh.

It hurts her so to love you,

But she won't say goodbye.

-Golden Cage,

Lang Leav

It was too quiet.

Except for the steady humming-beeping of the machines and the occasional popping coughs of Pneumonia, the Medical Intensive Care Unit was too quiet. The popping was unsettling–like molten fireworks–and it was Elle's duty to suction the tenacious death-traps.

She had fed all four of her patients dinner. It was common knowledge that no one ever likes hospital food but she presumed her quad didn't enjoy theirs especially. She bet osteorized meals delivered to the stomach through nose tubes weren't exactly tasty.

Mimi, her colleague, was absent so she didn't have anyone to talk to. Well, there's always her patients...

"Your daughter wants to see you, Mrs. Reyes. Let's comb your hair first, shall we? There. Lovely."

"I'll just change your urinary catheter, Mr. Go. Don't worry, I'll be gentle. Now where's the scissors... Just kidding, Mr. Go." She paused, glancing at his name tag. "Frederico. Fred? Rico? I think it's time we get on first name basis now, yeah?"

She talked to them, joked with them, even if the only response she got were the humming, beeping, and popping. Studies say that the last sense to lose function was that of hearing. She turned the radio on to a low volume hoping they would hear the music...and were fond of Katy Perry.

She sat behind the nurse's station in her all-white uniform, listening, and eating her spill-free and odor-free (She learned that bagoong and air-conditioning was a bad combination) ham sandwich. It was a familiar scenario, almost transporting her behind the counter in her pink apron at a small convenient store seven years ago.

Almost.

The policy was actually 'No Eating/Drinking inside the MICU' which noone ever complies to anyway. Besides, she was dizzily hungry and she couldn't exactly leave her patients by themselves, could she? Someone once taught her to live a little and bend the rules.

If the brain was ever capable of gasping, hers did just that.

She almost never thought of that someone anymore.

Almost.

Shaking off her thoughts, she glanced at her wristwatch. It was 9 in the evening. One more hour before endorsement. Despite the radio, it was still too quiet. Unlike libraries or the calmness of the night, it was the kind of quiet she didn't want to get used to.

She was halfway through her charting when it happened. Bed 1, Mr. Go's monitor had made a tittering noise. Her eyes flew up to read the ECG signaling that he was experiencing a cardiac arrest. She pushed the Come Get Help button and rushed to his side to give him CPR. Her heart was thumping against her rib cage as she desperately tried to make his do the same.

Two resident doctors (one male, one female) and a nurse entered the MICU. She quickly and breathlessly filled them in on what happened as she continued giving chest compressions. The male resident calmly ordered for a dose of epinephrine.