Brush with Death

      He was awakened by multiple people. It took a moment to remember where he was. He was still in the hospital emergency room.
      “Are you okay?” someone asked.
      “What happened?” asked another.
      “I think… I passed out,” he answered.
      They helped him to his feet and he felt the warm, sticky wetness of his own blood shift downward. It sloshed out of his pant legs onto the floor as they pushed him onto a gurney and he laid back and watched the ceiling race by as numerous voices asked him questions.
      “We’re worried about you!”
      “What’s your name?”
      “What is your date of birth?”
      "Do you know where you are?"
      He answered slowly. He had to think hard as his brain and mouth were working slowly due to the significant loss of blood.
      Once he arrived in the room, Echo 7, he felt his clothes being pulled off and he was covered by a sheet. For a few minutes, multiple people were buzzing around his bed. Eventually, a couple of doctors came by and checked on him as one nurse named Andrew, worked quickly to connect bags of saline and one unit of whole blood to access ports that were pierced and taped into the veins of his arms
      He could still feel the blood saturating the bedding beneath him.
      “I’m not ready to die yet,” he told Andrew.
      “You’re not dying on my shift,” announced Andrew. “That makes too much paperwork!”
      He relaxed on the gurney and thought about his family. He thought about his son. The anxiety was there, but he knew that for their sake, he needed to do whatever was necessary in order to survive.

By Kevin J. Curtis