Autonomy Pt 4

“Morning John.”

John looked up from where he’d been trying to wipe blood from his fingers.

“What are you doing?”

“My head’s bleeding.”

“Let me look.”

The bandage on the left side of his head had come loose.  One of the scabs had come away and blood was oozing from under the dressing.

“There was blood on my pillow this morning.”

“Ok.  I’m just going to take this off.”

“Ana?”

“Yes?”

“You are Ana, then?”

“Yes.”

“And Cheryl?”

“Nearly.  Shelley.”

“Ah! Shelley! - Ouch!”

“I’m sorry.  One of the scabs was stuck.”

Ana inspected the sutures and the abraded areas of John’s scalp.

“It looks healthy, but I’ll clean it up.  The hair needs shaving away again.”

John sat propped-up in the bed, almost as though he’d lost interest in the condition of his scalp.

“You know, I’ve no idea whether it’s night or day.  I suppose it must be day if the cleaners are working.”

“Yes.  It’s Wednesday.  Wednesday morning. I have to take the other dressings down today, John.  Just to have a look and change them.  Then you’re booked in for a scan and the physio’s coming to see you.”

“Are the police coming today?”

“I don’t know.”

“They’ve been once.  I told them it wasn’t an accident.  I can’t remember much else.  Do you think they’ll come back?”

“I’m sorry, John.  I really don’t know.  It was my day off yesterday.  Nobody said anything in handover.”

“Can you find out?”

“Ok.  I need to get someone to help me turn you.”

“Where’s Shelley?”

“She’s not in today.  We’re a bit short-staffed.  Let me get someone to help with this and we’ll have a chat.”

“Why are they doing a scan?”

“Just a moment, John.  I’ll ask the doctor to explain when he does his rounds.”

Ana disappeared out of sight.  John stared after her.  He remembered that he’d told the policemen he was a journalist and began to wonder if he’d told them too much already.  He couldn’t remember clearly what he’d said.  His breathing seemed hard.  He could feel his heart racing.  He recognised the symptoms of a panic attack.

“This is Sam, John.  He’s going to help me roll you and take your dressings down.”

“Hi John.  How are you today?”

John let out an enormous sigh.

“Are you feeling ok?” Sam asked.

He looked at the monitors beside the bed.  “Heart-rate’s a little high.  BP up slightly.  Oxygen fine.”

“I was having a little panic.”

Ana picked up his hand.  

“You feel a bit clammy.  What’s the matter?  Is it your head?”

“They tried to kill me.”

“Who?” Ana asked.  “The police?”

Sam looked across at her.

“No.” John felt exasperated.  He had no patience with anything.

“That's what I told the police.  That it wasn't an accident.  They were trying to kill me.”  He looked at Ana.  “Oh, Jesus, when did they come?  I’ve got no idea.”

Sam answered.  “The police were here yesterday.  They came to ask about your accident, that’s all.  They always speak to injured parties in RTAs and assaults.  It’s nothing to worry about.”

John stared back at him.

“You were knocked unconscious.  You have a head injury.  Let me see.”  Sam looked carefully at the side of John’s head.  “What happened?”

“The dressing came loose.”  Ana answered.  We need to shave the hair back again.”

Sam nodded. “Uhuh.  That’s why they want another scan, John.  You’re under the neurosurgeon as well as Orthopaedics.”

John nodded.  Are you a doctor?

“No.” Sam laughed.  “Just a nurse.  The doctors placed you in an induced coma when you were admitted.  The side-effects can be nasty.  A lot of confusion.”

John was taking everything in.

“Don’t worry.”  Sam continued.  “You’re having another scan today.  You’re in good hands.”

Ana drew the sheets back.

“Ok, John.  Let’s get you onto your side.”

She looked at Sam.

“Ready?”