Bad Medicine

Two somber faced and haggard nurses struggle to wheel a hospital bed down the long corridor towards an elevator.  The patient is an eighty year-old woman who is barely conscious.  She’s lucid enough for her aged face to be carved with the stress lines from battling her body’s constantly increasing pain.  Occasionally her hands will grab and hold on tightly to the mattress while she bites her lip to keep from screaming.1

Despite her age the woman still has a thick mane of gray hair.  When it was jet black she always took great pride in keeping so perfect.  Now it is matted and unimpressive from having her exhausted head pressed against the pillow.2

It would be hard to for the nurses to appreciate how this frail and petite woman was ever other than just another terminal patient.  With her arms sprouting a web of intravenous tubes they have no way to fathom how she was once a goddess who left men breathless from her beauty.  Men had literally worshipped her and some had eagerly sacrificed fortunes just to enjoy a few fleeting hours of her pleasure.3

Now it is all a recollection made hazy by the steady flow of drugs.  Her past would be of no interest to the nurses beyond regarding her as another patient they have to ferry from the emergency room to ICU.  Their minds have long since grown numb regarding thinking of any patient as more than a chore.  Besides they know instinctively she has that look of death upon her face.  Not caring is one way of protective themselves from having to grief for so many who die while in their care.4

Avoiding forming a bond with the lady is easy since she has not spoken.  They will never know she had been such an affectionate and loving person.  That all changed the moment she began her convalescent hospital stay.  It had been the place she had ended up after having to go to an emergency room for chest pains.  What was wrong with her went beyond a heart problem.  It was obvious to the attending physician that she was in such a declining mental and physical condition that there was no choice except to transfer her to a nursing home.5

There she stayed for a month till complications set in and she had to be taken back to the hospital.  They did their usual routine chore of tending to her needs, but her condition was life-threatening so now she is being shuttled to ICU.6

She is dying.  Not from any specific ailment, but a combination of problems from a bad heart and high blood pressure to failing kidneys.  They all are a sad reality and consequence that happens everyday to so many as death starts to gnaw away at their bodies.  It is one of many stories that simply never merits be told.7

Once they reach the ICU ward one of the nurses runs her badge over the security scanner to allow them to enter to area.  They quickly roll the bed into a vacant room and then take the woman’s chart and other papers over to the nurse’s station.8

One of the ICU nurses takes a moment to glance through the chart.  She can’t help groaning when she sees the resuscitation order with it.  That translates into a request by the patient for them to do anything necessary to prolong her life.  The nurse has seen too many patients kept alive by that process long after death should have mercifully claimed their lives.9

She knows the pain the person often experiences in the process.  It is so cruel and horrible how the patient ends up suffering.  However it is the law and they have to abide by the patient’s request.  All she can hope is that the patient doesn’t go into cardiac arrest on her shift where she has to be part of the group that has to revive her.  Seeing the person in such agony from the procedure always rips at her guts no matter how often she helps.10

In her own way she tries to do small things despite the law and bureaucracy to give each terminal patient some ease of their pain and misery. Setting the chart down on the desk, she will return it to the person’s room later.  Right now she goes through the process of formerly entering the patient into their records.11

Serafina Vocee is the name on the chart.  For a moment the nurse does wonder about the life that was attached to it.  However she knows given the information on the chart the woman probably won’t ever be conscious enough for her to find out her past.  So when she is done with the paperwork, she goes on to other duties.  It is just one more name of many she will end up forgetting, part out of defense of her emotions the other because of the number of patients she has to see who leave in a hearse.12

Riding the hospital elevator up to the third floor where ICU is location is Dr. Anthony Stiles.  Out of habit, he checks his Rollex.  As is usual he is late.  Most of the patients he sees in ICU aren’t going care about the time.  For him it is just an easy buck going through the motion of prescribing treatments that seldom does much to improve their condition.  Besides he never got into medicine to heal people. 13

One wouldn’t be able to determine that from his appearance.  He was in his thirties with a youthful almost angelic face, blonde hair, blue eyes and a good physique.  At one time he even considered pursuing athletics as a career.  Being six foot and fast enough he had entertained trying to go into pro ball as a running back, but he changed his mind in college.  His mind shifts gears when he realized how easy one unlucky injury could end such a career.  As much as he worshipped money there was no way he wasn’t going to go for the gold where one back break, literally, could end your dreams.14

Fortunately he also had a brain.  Though he was no genius he did have the discipline and talent enough to get through college and med school to be able to claim the title Doctor. 15

In time he might be willing to give up being connected with a hospital and just concentrate on private practice, but for now, it did help pay the bills and all those little extra charges he could tack on didn’t hurt.  So today like many others he would make his rounds and be done early enough to still make it out to he golf course.16

The one thing he wasn’t going to do was worry about the health or condition of his patients.  He never admitted to the nurses, but when he saw their faces all he really saw was dollar signs and never any individual.17

“Morning Stella,” he says in a lackluster tone without even attempting a smile when he reaches nurse’s station in the ICU ward.18

“Morning,” Stella replies, forcing herself to even say that much.  She knows Dr. Stiles too well as do the other nurses.  Stella dislikes his indifference and lack of compassion.19

He finally comes to Serafina’s room, walks over and takes her chart out of the slot.  There is nothing too surprising on it.  The name is familiar for some reason.  He vaguely recalls about a year earlier when he had an elderly woman by the same last name in ICU.  Her case only stuck in his mind because she did die in such terrible pain.  Plus he had to issue her so much medication to sedate her and keep her from screaming constantly.  Not that he cared, it just was one of this those morbid details that stuck in his brain.20

Oh well, this is just another terminal patient he treats and won’t think about once he leaves the hospital.  He also notices the life support and resuscitation order she had signed.  Plus there is apparently no next of kin.  That is a blessing too.  It means no annoying worrisome relatives to see.21

Although he fights the need to smile, something dark and sinister deep inside his soul revels in treating people who request life support.  He truly enjoys prolonging their suffering.  Stiles can hardly confess this little preference to anyone.  Not that the nurses haven’t sense his bent towards the love of cruelty, but he still avoids admitting it.22

Well he might as well go in and at least check on his latest patient.  Then he can prescribe some form of treatment so it can add to the amount of his bill.  As for Serafina who lies unconscious, that is always a blessing to him.  The one thing that he hates even more is the need to talk to any of these dreadfully boring creatures.23

About the only thing different with Serafina from the countless other dying souls that he has seen is the tattoo on her right wrist.  It appears to be some kind of cat.  A black cat in fact.  Apparently she must have been a cat lover.  Now as he recalls the other woman he treated last year had the same tattoo.  Shrugging his shoulders he knows that is one more question he’ll never be able to answer nor does he feel a need to worry about.24

In five minutes he manages to finish he “visit” with Serafina.  Time to move on to other patients.  After all he is on a tight schedule.  If this takes too long he could end up missing his golf date and then just would never do.25

Walking outside of her room he does so just in time to run into Charles Winter.  He fights the need to groan.  Charles is the son of another patient in ICU, Ernie Winter.26

Charles’ eyes reflect his stress and concern for his father’s condition.  All his life his dad had been his hero.  They had always had such a close and loving relationship.  Having to go through seeing his dad suffering in ICU and slowly rotting away from the inside was nearly killing him.  Desperately he clings to some illusion that his dad could actually get better.  He isn’t going to die if Charles can help it.27

“Hello doctor.  Any improvement in my father’s condition?”28

“No, not at the moment Mr. Winter.  I will certainly let you know if there is.”29

The truth is that he hasn’t even seen Charles’ dad yet, but he doesn’t need to.  The man is dying and no treatment is going to change that fact.  However a lie seems to keep the relatives from taking up too much of his time and that is what is most important.30

“Thank you doctor,” Charles says with his eyes intense with a combination of concern over his father’s condition.  He walks down the hall towards his father’s room still hoping for a miracle and totally unaware how the doctor really feels.31

Not that Dr. Stiles worries about what any family member thinks.  He has far too many more important things to worry about like improving his golf swing.  As he hurries on to finish his rounds, he checks his watch again.32

A couple of days later Dr. Stiles is in the ICU ward.  In some ways today will be an improvement.  Ernie Winter died yesterday.  Oh they did all that standard efforts to maintain his life, but they failed.  He was glad he didn’t have to be there when the son came in for the last time.  Dealing with grieving family members was the one thing he hated the most about being a doctor.33

Knowing Winter was dead meant he could go to the ward without having to worry about seeing Charles Winter.  The man was definitely starting to get on his nerves.  It should make life a little easier for a while.  That is until his next dying patient is admitted with overly concerned relatives who can’t accept reality.34

He comes to the opening of Serafina’s room and takes her chart out of the slot on the wall.  Why he’s not sure.  It isn’t like there is much to read.  Still without records there would be no proof of what care was provided so he tolerates the nuisance.35

Admittedly Serafina does look worse today.  Pretty soon she may even need life support and then will begin the long slow process of decay and pain before death.36

Walking over and standing next to the bed, Dr. Stiles looks over at the monitors.  He places his hands on the rail to steady his balance as he checks the vitals.37

Suddenly to his shock, Serafina groans and opens her eyes.  Looking up at him, she grabs his wrist with her hand.  “Igu, Tan, Beather,” the woman growls in a raspy deep voice. 38

Dr. Stiles tries to pry himself loose from her grasp, but it is so incredible strong.  Then suddenly he feels himself getting incredibly dizzy.  Seconds later everything goes black.39

When he opens his eyes again, what he see leaves him terrified.  He looks up and sees his own form standing next to the bed and knows he is in Serafina’s body.  His mind nearly passes out from the pain.  Part of him wants to scream, but he just can’t.40

“It feels so good to be truly revived again.   And I do appreciate the ‘gift’ of your body.  doctor,” Serafina says.  “This is one time when you’ll get to find out what it is like to be the patient.  Perhaps the experience will make up for your lack of compassion such as the way you treated my sister who was here last year.  If you had been a little more caring in her treatment she might have had enough lucidity to summoned me to her aid.  However, that would have required you to have a heart that wasn’t made of stone.” 41

In the bed, Dr. Stiles’ mind is full of panic.  He wants to scream and call for help.  It does no good.  Instead he lies, helpless, suffering and far too crippled by the nightmare that is his reality to do anything else.42

Serafina stops by the nurse’s station and smiles at Stella.  She looks at who she thinks is Dr. Stiles with a puzzled expression since he never smiles.  For some reason he just seems more personable.43

As he reaches down to pick up a chart, Stella notices a tattoo of a black cat on his right wrist and can’t remember seeing it before.  For the first time she honestly feels a need to think of him as a person since he just suddenly seems human for a change.44

They chat for a few minutes before Dr. Stiles turns to leave.  Stella can’t help smiling.  Maybe underneath that indifference she has seen in him in the past there actually beats a real heart.  Perhaps having to deal with him in the future won’t be so bad after all.45

In the meantime she will do as he requested and take a few minutes to give Serafina some extra medications he prescribed.  It was so nice of him to show such a special interest in her condition and to make sure he ordered extra treatments to be sure she lived as long a possible.46

Meanwhile Dr. Stiles finishes his rounds and everyone notices he seems so much friendly than before.  They all are left with a good feeling from his visit that perhaps he has turned over a new leaf for the good.  None will be aware of the fact that he no longer has to use the elevator to leave the third floor.  You don’t need an elevator when you can fly in the form of a crow or turn into a black cat at will.47