Something Else

Chapter 9 - Re-thinking

Bob bent his head down over the basin and gently splashed water over his face.
It had been three days now since he'd been jumped, and as each day passed, yet another ache or pain emerged.
As he peered into the mirror inspecting his injuries, he hardly even recognised the battered face that stared back.

'Come along now, you!' said the big Irish matron, who'd come to round him up once again. 'Get yourself back into your bed. It'll be visiting hours shortly, and we can't have your visitors traipsing all over the hospital trying to find you.'

Bob closed his swollen black eyes, wanting to scream. She never gave him a damned inch, and giving up without a fight, let her march him back to bed again and got in with an irritable expression on his face.
'There now,' she said as she tucked him back into the sterile white sheets. 'That's better, isn't it?'

Bob ignored her, hoping she would go away.
'Now, what's the matter with you. What's the face for?'
'There's no face!' he snapped, thoroughly irritated by her. 'Just leave me alone.'
He was sick and tired of her constant presence.

'Go and get on with your job somewhere else, will you! I'm not a blinkin' cripple. Go and help that dribbly old bastard over there. He needs you more than I do!'
The matron narrowed her eyes, crossing herself as she muttered a couple of words skywards, and placed her hefty hands firmly on her hips.

'Now listen here, you,' she said, keeping her voice gentle and even still. 'I don't think you're fully aware of just how serious this is. You have been beaten up very badly, and that's, very, with a capital V. If it wasn't necessary to keep you here, you wouldn't be here, that I can assure you. There are thousands out there waiting for beds. With your attitude, Mr Kennedy, if it was down to me, I would have kicked you out no sooner than they'd wheeled you in. However, fortunately for you, there are rules to follow, and I have to look after you whether I like it or not! Now tough as you'd like to think you are, you're still a human being, or at least, praise the Lord, that's what they tell me you are. But either way, you have been very lucky.

Most people suffering the beating you received would have been taken straight to intensive care, broken to pieces, and probably in a coma. Just because you've got off fairly lightly, doesn't mean you can abuse the system, run around willy-nilly and get out of here at the drop of a hat. Your organs are still in shock, and as much as you choose to ignore everything I tell you, you've still got a severe concussion. There's no way on God's Earth the doctor's going to release you until he's satisfied you're fit. So take my advice - lie back, shut up and enjoy it - you're lumbered! And count yourself lucky you never ended up like our friend over there. What did you call him, "dribbly old bastard?" He's now critically brain damaged after the beating he got!'

Bob just stared at her, refusing to acknowledge that last comment of hers, knowing she was only trying to make him feel bad. 'So I'm here until the doctor thinks fit, yeah?' he asked, grouchily.
She nodded, turning on her heel and began to walk away.
'Bullshit am I!' he shouted after her.
She ignored him and kept walking.

'And how long's that supposed to be for, Mrs Florence Nightingale?'

She bit her lip, refusing to bite. 'As long as a piece of string Mr Kennedy, and no sooner.'

With that, she disappeared through the swing doors at the end of the ward, leaving Bob to stew on his own.

All sorts of pains shot through his body as he found himself getting wound up. He collapsed back in the bed, wishing the pain would go away and felt really, really low.
He couldn't handle being kept there amongst all the old fogeys. There couldn't have been one man on that ward under the age of 80! The sight of them sitting there zombified all day, with not one word of conversation to help pass the time, and the sound of them laying there farting all night was enough to drive him insane! He felt like punching something to relieve his frustration, but the slightest movement caused shock waves through his entire nervous system, so he thought better of it.