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Crime, Thrillers & Mystery / THE HOSPITAL
The footfalls echoing down the black-marbled corridor on the fourth floor of the DeLaware Rehabilitation Center heralded the arrival of Dr. Julius Robespere on the last leg of his rounds. It was eleven o’clock at night and the round would take him at least ninety five minutes. The three wards: general, semi-special and special had a total of twenty six beds. Fortunately for the doctor not all were occupied. The general ward had six beds, the semi special ward had six rooms with two beds each, and the special ward had six rooms with one bed each. This was the cardiac section of the hospital for those who who came out of the intensive cardiac care unit on the ground floor after three or four days. He was tired, bone-tired after the two surgeries earlier in the day. Each surgery had taken him nearly two hours. After the second surgery he was in his room for forty winks when an emergency call came from the distant St. Markks hospital. He had immediately instructed his second-in-command Dr. Ann Knight to hold the fort for him and rushed out poste-haste. He was back around nine in the night. The patient at St Markks hospital had to have an emergency coronary bypass. The drive to St. Markks all of 50 miles away had taken him the better part of an hour, thanks to the inclement weather and the inhospitable roads, and the operation had taken him another two hours. The patient would be alright with about three months rest.
And the emergency case wheeled in the day before, a middle-aged man of around forty-eight but looking older, with a severe heart attack, had kept him up most of the night as the patient was not responding to the general medical procedure. The sedative was not having any effect and the patient was wide awake, staring vacantly at the medics around him,the agony contorting his facial features. He had rapidly issued instructions after a confabulation with the patient’s wife – she revealed that her husband was taking Restal, a sleeping tablet, for the past eight months- and the junior doctors had doubled the sedative dosage. The patient had then slipped into deep slumber. A senior nurse was then alone with the patient monitoring blood pressure, heart-beat rate, and replacing the drip. The patient’s wife slept on the small settee provided a few feet away from the bed. The patient was an incorrigible smoker and that was the primary cause of the seizure. Occupational stress was another, but no less important, factor. The patient was a stockbroker with a string of massive losses on the stock market and was neck-deep in debts. The wife had a job in a finance company. The attack had been of the utmost severity and the only reason the patient was alive was his immediate shifting to the hospital. It was within forty minutes of the patient’s complaint of excruciating pain in the chest that he was brought to the hospital. The survival chances in such cases was only twenty percent even if timely remedial action was taken.. Fortunately the highly expensive thromboslov injection was sufficient to provide relief to the patient. He was sleeping peacefully when Dr. Robespere had seen him an hour ago in the ICU.
Nurse Isabella Sharppe normally accompanied him on all his arounds. She was all of thirty five with a bedside manner that would put the most obstreperous of patients at ease. She was a widow having lost her husband, an air-force pilot, in a crash on the air-force day show. He had brought the plane down perilously close to the tarmac in a show of bravado that had cost him his life. The plane failed to lift up and crashed, engulfed and surrounded by flames that had melted the metal. That was ten years ago, when she was a newly married svelte twenty-five year old and the cynosure of all eyes. After her husband’s death, she resolved to remain single and dedicate her life to bring succor and relief to the needy, the lame and the halt. Now, as she rapidly strode to keep pace with the restless Dr. Robespere, her mind was full of her husband’s memory. His death anniversary was a day later. She would have her day off and visit the orphanage. The smile that lit up the faces of the tiny tots when they received their presents was worth every cent that she spent. She was well-off. Her late husband’s insurance claim and the property she sold off after his demise had kept her in sound financial health. She had only kept the house that he had built as per her specifications. “Nightingale Cottage”; that was a lovely name. The forests by and behind the house were atwitter with the sound of birds at dawn and dusk and the rising sun would first send his golden rays from behind the Misty mountains onto their porch. The front of the house was a florist’s delight.
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It doesn’t seem like a complete story. It seems more like the prologue from a novel or a scene. It IS good though; it has nice structure and works quite well. : )
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I thought that this piece was on it’s way to making a very good story. The plot line thus far is plausible and fast moving. I didn’t really get to know about the characters well, but there is a strong base for further development. You have a unique gift with the imagery within this story. I would love to read more.
Well my friend. I realize English is your second language so I would like to offer some advice to smooth your story a bit.
A senior nurse was then alone – “Alone in the room with the sleeping man, a senior nurse ….”
“The patient” – over used phrase in this area
...accompanied him on all his (arounds)rounds.
...in a crash on the air-force day show. – “in a crash on the day of the air show performed by the Air Force pilots.”
...cynosure of all eyes. – work on this sentence. Good word awkwardly used.
His death anniversary was a day later.- Perhaps “The anniversary of his death would come the following day”
Some of your criteria is difficult for me to rate. Like “Agent- I need an agent”, Published in lit. mag, or Publication (as in a short story in a magazine?)I guess they just don’t apply to me.
Otherwise I say it is a good start to something. I would like to see more when you are ready.
Cheers!Daphine
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