"It's a urinary tract infection not the Ebola virus!" and with that the old man in bed 41 released his bowels and expired.
"Bollocks!" thought pretty nurse Kimmy knowing full well the cleaners were on strike.
It had been a long tiring night at Deception General, outside the dawn rain was hammering again and Nurse Kimmy's piles were giving her hell.
"Why didn't I become an accountant?" she grumped as she slopped the mop through the remains of bed 41.
But of course! Her emerald green eyes lit up as she remembered!
Today was the day!
The rumours were true!
Handsome dashing Dr Craig was joining the medical staff!
The pretty American nurse swooned and her heart fluttered as she remembered the picture of him she kept in her purse, an image she treasured, the doctor deep in the midst of a kidney transplant, blood and intestine splattered romantically across his broad shoulder.
It had been the only time they'd met, all those months ago.
Kimmy sighed as she remembered his words. He'd turned to her, with those deep dark Scotch eyes and uttered -the nurse smiled as she recalled the moment- "Sponges! you silly trout! I've cut the wrong bit! Shit!" And then when the unfortunate patient had expelled his last breath he'd turned to her, his handsome face flecked with greenish grey matter and said "Och!" the way Scots are prone to do before stamping out in search of a bowl of salted porage.
08.46, he was due in at 09:00 precisely! A dozing security guard wondered what the emergency was as the nurse rushed to the dressing room. What should she wear?! Kimmy stared, her brain being racked relentlessly as she surveyed the 25 outfits in her locker. Eventually, after fully 32 seconds of pondering she plumped for a gorgeous number by Phelps of Topeka, a gorgeous sweeping purple design with a fashionable rip in the bust on one side. Now! Shoes!
What would go with the Phelps dress? It had to be something classy but casual. The winklepickers? The Wellingtons with the little pictures of Thread Viruses on the side? Eventually, time escaping her like a prisoner of war in nazi Germany with the gates open she decided on the Doc Martens and clumped towards her make up bag on the bench. Slavering herself with bright red lipstick and liberally spraying the room with Pesticide by Britney for Him and Her.
It was time!
Handsome Dr Craig bit into his early morning fried pizza, coughed up some pleghm and surveyed the scene around him. Three nurses had fainted, a cardio surgeon was doing something unpleasant under the desk and a passing porter had spontaniously combusted leaving a small pile of ashes.
"Och" he mused aloud. "Why am I here? What bored person dreamt up this garbage?" His musings halted as his eyes fell on the pretty American in the ripped dress and the heavy boots.
"I'M HERE!!! Take me you HUNK!!" Nurse Kimmy announced, throwing herself at the doctor and missing.
The world was spinning and pulsating. Kimmy opened her eyes, sighed and stared at the ceiling. "Damn" she thought, the drip attached to her arm catching her attention. Twisting her head despite the neck brace she saw the board; "Concussion, collided with fire hydrant"
Two long days passed and Nurse Kimmy remained incapacited in her hospital prison. The handsome medical man would visit for an hour in the afternoon and entertain her with stories of his youth in the Old Country. Crisp autumn days spent hunting haggis on the glens, evenings spent sipping buckfast.
Finally! At long last permission was granted for Kimmy to be allowed home! She sighed in anticipation of long mirth filled nights watching Dr Craig Scottish Country Dancing around her tiny apartment. But! What was this??
Looking solemn he clasped her hand, his deep dark eyes filled with tears..
"there's no easy way to say this"
"what?" asked the still weak nurse, alarmed by his words and tone "whatever is the matter?"
"I have a week to live two at most!"
the nurse gasped. Her heart as broken as his tumour filled brain.
"also, I'm gay"
"nnoooo! but God hates fags"
"oh yeah and-" Before he could continue Kimmy spotted the book in the pocket of his white coat, "my life as a man by Sandra Bernhard "
"Don't say it!" the tearful American crumpet sobbed, her fantasies and future hopes destroyed in an instant. "Be gone you foul deviant!"
And with that the doctor departed-rushing straight into the path of an oncoming ambulance.
TO BE CONTINUED...
YOU ARE READING
Deception General
HumorDeception General is an "anywhere" hospital in an "anywhere" city, probably coastal, probably northeastern US.
