4: Never-ending, Cursing Circle

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Chapter 4: Never-ending, Cursing Circle

Three Weeks Later....

Alarms sound in his unprepared eardrums, becoming sensitive to lights, sounds and people's voices. Unsure what he was hearing as he zoned in on the flashing in his vision. The last thing he remembered before it all went back didn't ring any bells. He became frustrated very quickly as he moved to kick his legs. He's stopped by some heavy like a weight, tying him down like some type of gravitational pull. The first thing that he sees is moving figures. It's all blurred shapes, but he can tell their moving quickly. When he finally broke through his mind fog, the man started to reach what he thought was his face. He then realized that it was some tube. He blinked his eyes once again, finally coming around to the realization that he's in a white room.

A white room filled with machines. He fluttered his eyes once more, vision becoming less vague and more detailed. He rheard voices again - - louder and audible this time around. Suddenly panic throws him in waves of terror when he realizes he's in a hospital. Struggling to open his eyes... he felt tears forming in the glossy orbitals.

Where was he? That was his first question that danced in his brain rapidly. And another happened to be the following question; why is he there? His heart began pounding as he tried to re-open his eyes. The beeping woke the foggy residue from his eyes, allowing to finally see the heart-rate monitor, flashing with alarming red numbers on the screen. When it finally registered to him that it was his heart-rate... he finally started to calm himself down enough to understand what's going on. The voices and vision seemed clearer than it once was.

Suddenly his chest tightened and he panicked. He can't breathe. Why can't he breathe? He angled his head down and saw a spiral contraption hanging. He brought his hands to his mouth, trying to wrap one of his hand around the base of the tube, yanking it.

Loud pulsing echoed in his ears. He could hear his own struggle to breathe and it was starting to scare him. Out of nowhere people rush into the room, swatting gently at his hand, confusing the young distressed male. Someone hits a button and another person leaned into his view.

"Mr. Jones, can you hear us?"

He stared at them, still panicked. "Sir, breathe for me,"

He makes no attempt to move at all. The person he recognized seconds prior, he finally realized who she was. A nurse. That is who is trying to coach him.

"We are waiting for your doctor to come to the A-okay to remove the tube. We had to intubate you."

Another figure moved into the room. Mr. Jones? He guessed that must be him. His eyes flicked at the white coat man with a medical instrument hanging around their neck. He reached the end of the bed and stopped in front.

"Hi, Jughead! I'm your doctor. I've been taking care of you since you got here." The man introduced himself, reaching for his foot. He felt the gloved hand wrap around his ankle, causing it to wince." I'm sorry, Mr. Jones. I know it hurts. I'll have them giving a shot of morphine after we get these tubes out."

The doctor kindly smiled. "I'm Dr. Spencer by the way."

The man — no, no - - Dr. Spencer moved further along the bed, approaching him and must've noticed his tenseness. "I'm going to take these tubes out now. I'm going to need you to take a deep breath in for me."

Dr. Spencer looked at his distressed patient, watching as Mr. Jones took a deep inhale." Okay, now I'm going to need to cough." He noticed his patient's discomfort," I know it hurts. It's going to hurt just a little, we'll be as gentle as possible. It will all be over soon."

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