Day 4 of being trapped in the hospital. Patient care technicians rove the halls, ambushing me with thermometers and blood pressure cuffs whenever I dare let my guard down.
I was roused from my slumber at 4AM by a nurse demanding a blood sample. I was assured by an attending physician that there are no vampires on staff. He asked who did my blood sample. “Tracy,” I replied. “Tracy?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “We used to have a Tracy, but she died of cancer several years ago.”
I showered today. I saw Tracy in the mirror. There was nobody there when I turned around. Mocking laughter rang in my ears and the harsh stench of ammonia burned my nose.
I have been receiving messages from Tracy Brown, RN on my patient portal.
“We need another blood sample, we need another blood sample, we need another blood sample.”
I fear the dark. I hear footfalls among the beeps and alarms of IV pumps and wound vacs. I see wild shadows lurking in the periphery. “101/68,” says the PCT. It is 1:47 AM. I am faintly aware of a needle entering my arm to administer a dose of blood thinner.
I hear Tracy’s voice, “The better to suck you dry with!”