How do we live and love when we know that everything we have will turn into ashes?
Now that Zcyhie Elizabeth Fleuvis is back, someone threatens to inflict everything in her normal, stable life. The tranquility of her old town, Stygian Realm, along F...
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Zcyhie Elizabeth's POV
A chill ran down my spine as I replaced my cozy, fleece, hoodie sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants with only a thin, blue hospital gown. I felt the bitter air against my bare back. I scurried as fast as I could to the gurney, escaping from the coldness of the tile floor that seeped through the paper slippers that I wore.
No matter how I lay, I felt the need to continue tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position. This was especially difficult, because this bed on wheels was only half the width of my twin sized bed at home and jerked with even the slightest movement. Finally, I gave up my quest to become comfortable and decided to look for something to keep my mind off the edginess that I was feeling.
The ceiling was composed of white, holey, rectangles with random stains of a faded brown. I began counting the rectangles from the front of the room to the back. Seven. Then I counted them from the very left of the room to the right. Nine. "The ceiling has sixty-three squares on it," I pondered. Somehow this fascinated me so much that I was able to temporarily forget about my nervousness.
"Hey Mom," I shouted. She looked up from behind the paperwork she was filling out for the doctor.
"What's up?" she asked. Just as I was about to tell her my exhilarating news about the rectangles on the ceiling, I realized how ridiculous it was.
Embarrassed at how pathetic my burst of excitement was, my face felt hot. I knew my cheeks were turning red, so I turned my head away from my mom and casually asked, "What time is it?" Her long, dark, eyes glanced down at her watch and she softly responded, "1:45 p.m."
Could it already be 1:45 p.m.? The surgery was scheduled for 1:00 p.m. "Shouldn't a doctor have at least come in to prepare me for the surgery by now? Did they forget about me? Will this torture ever end?" I wondered. Disappointed, I breathed in.
I bitterly laughed when I remembered the old Zcyhie Elizabeth Fleuvis when she was still a child...when I was still a child. When my mom was still alive.
A day have passed when I decided to go out for a bit. Before I lay on the Emergency Room bed, I removed my watch, my earrings and my necklace and placed it near the bed. I also unhook my bra before the ECG starts. I already have learned these kind of things.
I could clearly remember when I first had an Electrocardiography test and I'm really shocked and puzzled if I really need to remove my bra. I glanced at my chest, there was a deep scar that looked like it was engraved in that area. I disregard my thoughts.
Electrocardiography was the process of producing an electrocardiogram (ECG or EKG), a recording - a graph of versus time - of the electrical activity of the using placed on the skin. These electrodes detect the small electrical changes that are a consequence of cardiac muscle followed by during each cardiac cycle- the heartbeat.
