Ward Z

by Amy Cross

  "That's because you're my favorite," he replies with a grin.

  Once he's gone, I spend a few more minutes trying to eat the fish before deciding that life's too short and switching my attention to the pieces of carrot. I swear to God, before I die, I want to get out of this damn hospital at least once and eat some proper food. I know a little pub, about ten miles from the hospital, that serves the most amazing Sunday dinners: Yorkshire pudding with roast beef and vegetables, all swimming in a sea of the richest gravy I've ever tasted in my life. I don't care how crap I look, or even how crap I feel, but I swear to Almighty Christ that I'm gonna get to that pub one more time before I -

  "Fuck!" I shout, as suddenly the pain comes back much more sharply, juddering its way up my side until it explodes in my armpit and sends sharp waves through my chest. I grab the metal railings on either side of the bed as I try to fight back, but it's useless: the pain seems to be twisting its way through my body like a corkscrew, reaching out to touch every organ and every nerve. Just when I think it can't get any worse, and with sweat pouring down my brow, it all seems to suddenly dissipate, but I stay rigidly in position for a couple of minutes, braced for its return at any moment. Finally, I push the tray of food to one side and climb stiffly out of bed, feeling as if something's changed inside my body.

  Hobbling through to the bathroom, I flick the light-switch and head over to the mirror, before lifting up my gown to get a better look at the side of my torso.

  As soon as I see it, I freeze.

  On the left side of my body, just above the hip-bone, there's a new kind of swelling, like a fist-sized lump. I reach down and run my hand over the bulge; it feels hard and smooth, but although I'm feeling sore, the lump itself doesn't seem to hurt too much. Pressing it gently, I can tell that it has a solid mass, so I'm pretty sure it's not an accumulation of fluid. My heart racing, I turn to get some better light on the affected area, and finally I realize that as well as the lump, there's also a set of dark purple veins running up my side, as if the blood vessels running from the swollen area have become enlarged. Taking a deep breath, I run my cold fingers along the length of the blood vessels, tracing them until they disappear just below my armpit. Whatever the hell this is, it wasn't there this morning and it's definitely not something that should be caused by my cancer.

  The crazy thing is, I know I'm dying. I know I've only got a few more weeks left, so it's not as if I need to bother being scared by this thing. At the same time, I can't stop staring at it and wondering what the hell's going to happen next. Why would God do this to me? After everything else that has happened, after all the pain and misery and tears, why would he wait until the end of my life and then throw down something else for me to deal with? Damn it, I don't even believe in God, not really, but at times like this, he suddenly seems much more real.

  "Please," I whisper, my eyes fixed on the swelling, "please, God, no more pain. I can handle anything else, but no more pain."

  Dr. Andrew Page

  "I see it," I say, keeping my eyes on the monitor as the endoscope reaches Dominique Ribery's colon. "It's a large mass, approximately thirty millimeters in diameter."

  "Let me see the screen," Ribery says impatiently, clearly in a great deal of discomfort.

  "Later," I reply, preparing to remove a part of the mass.

  "Let me see it!" she says firmly.

  "Did anyone ever tell you that you're a very bad patient?" I ask.

  "Did anyone ever tell you you're a fucking cock?" she snaps back. "Show me the image! It's my colon and my tumor, and I want to see it!"

  "It's okay," Nurse Aubry says, with the kind of reassuring tone that I've never been able to muster. "Dr. Page will explain everything later."

  "I'm not an idiot," Ribery mutters. "If I was a little more flexible, I could stick the endoscope up my ass myself and do this without the pair of you."

  "I'd be happy to watch you try," I reply.

  "Just let Dr. Page do his job," Nurse Aubry says soothingly, placing a hand on Ribery's shoulder. "I know it's painful, but it's necessary."

  "I'm not one of your usual pig-ignorant patients who can be kept in the dark," Ribery grimaces, pushing her hand away. "You're just a nurse. What do you know about anything?"

  I glance at Nurse Aubry and see a trace of amusement in her eyes. She and I have performed this kind of examination on enough patients to know that they usually get pretty annoyed, although Ribery's medical background means that her barbs and insults are a little better informed than might usually be the case.

  "It's light gray," I continue, watching the monitor. "The consistency seems a little unusual. The surface appears to be very smooth, almost marble-like. The shape, too, seems to be..." I move the endoscope a little, hoping to get a better view. "It's flattened a little at the top and bottom although I don't see any obvious sources of pressure, and..." As I move the endoscope to the far side of the tumor, I spot an unusual stem-like structure connecting the tumor itself to the wall of the colon.

  "What?" Ribery asks after a moment.

  "It's certainly an ingenious little thing," I reply. "I'll show you later, but the tumor appears to be connected to the colon by a kind of stem. I've never seen anything like it before. The blood vessels in the vicinity are swollen as well. It must be pretty strong if it's managing to stay put." Maneuvering the cutting tool into position, I prepare to make an incision. "Okay, I'm going in for the slice. You shouldn't feel anything, but... Well, I guess you know everything I'm going to say."

  As soon as I start cutting away a section of the tumor, I'm shocked to see some kind of light yellow viscous fluid flowing from deep within the mass. I open my mouth to tell Nurse Aubry, but at the last moment I decide that I'd rather not get into a discussion with Ribery, so I keep quiet. Instead, I focus on removing the slice, which has some of the fluid attached to its surface. If nothing else, this is clearly going to be a fascinating sample to study in the lab, and while I'd usually turn it over to one of the junior members of staff, I think this time I might do the examination myself.

  "Are you done yet?" Ribery asks, in obvious pain.

  "Sure," I reply, watching as the flow of liquid slows down. Finally, it's as if the tumor has already healed the site of the incision. I try to tell myself not to get too focused on the unusual aspects of the biopsy, but I can't deny that this tumor seems to be behaving differently to every other tumor I've ever seen. "I just need to remove the sample," I continue, hoping to make it sound as if everything is going according to plan. Ribery already seems to be on edge, and the last thing I need right now is to let her get me spooked.

  "You're clear to withdraw," Nurse Aubry says, clearly sensing my discomfort.

  I smile politely as I thread the endoscope out of Ribery's body. Frankly, I want to palm her off to Nurse Aubry as soon as possible so that I can go and spend a couple of hours in the lab. Dealing with patients has never been my strong point.

  "I want to see the footage," Ribery says.

  "Later," I mutter, passing the equipment to Nurse Aubry before removing my gloves.

  "Look at me," Ribery commands.

  "We'll discuss it later," I say, glancing at her before heading to the door. "I need to -"

  "Look at me," she says again.

  Sighing, I turn to her, and although I try to avoid giving anything away, I can see that she recognizes the concern in my eyes.

  "What's wrong?" she asks. "No bullshit. Just the truth."

  "I can't possibly give you any kind of information until I've analyzed the sample," I tell her, forcing myself to stay calm. "Your tumor has some unusual characteristics, but I'm sure you'd rather hear an informed opinion rather than chaotic first impressions. I'll be taking a look at the sample immediately and -" Before I can finish, I notice something dark on Ribery's face, just below her left nostril. After a few seconds, it becomes clear that a large, thick bead of blood is moving slowly down toward her lip, but Ribery herself doesn't seem to be reacting.

 
; Hurrying over to her, I realize that not only does she not seem to be reacting, but her pupils are uneven: in her left eye, the pupil has shrunk to the size of a pinhead, while in her right eye the pupil is huge.

  "Dominique," I say, leaning over her and shining a light into her face. "Can you hear me? Dominique, talk to me."

  "She's burning up," Nurse Aubry says as she puts a hand on Ribery's forehead. "Her core temperature must be rising."

  "Dominique, can you hear me?" I continue, gently patting the side of her face in an effort to get her to respond. "Dominique Ribery, I need you to say something. Are you aware of where you are? Are you -"

  Suddenly she focuses her gaze directly on me. More and more blood is dribbling from her nose, mixed with a clear, light brown liquid that I'm almost certain must be cranial fluid. Her lower lip wobbles, as if she's trying but failing to get some words out. The deterioration in her condition has been strikingly rapid so far, and it's as if her entire body is starting to crumble.

  "We need to get her on fluids," I say, lowering the bed so that Ribery is flat on her back. Spotting more cranial fluid leaking from her right ear, I try to work out if there's any way our treatment might have caused any of this to happen. Grabbing her chart again, I take a quick look at everything that's been administered so far, but there's nothing that should be causing this. It's as if her cranial fluid has started to spontaneously leak.

  "I'll get ice," Nurse Aubry says.

  "Burn me," Ribery whispers suddenly.

  "What did she say?" Nurse Aubry asks, stepping closer.

  "Burn me," Ribery says, staring at me with fear in her eyes. She reaches out and grabs my arm with a fevered, sweat-covered hand, pulling me closer. "Don't make the same mistake I made. Burn me, and burn everyone around me, before it's too late."

  Part Two

  Death's Head

  Cally Briggs

  It's the faintest of sounds. Somewhere in the distance, perhaps at the other end of the ward, someone drops something metal, causing a loud clanging sound that echoes through the darkened corridors. I'm not sure if I was fully asleep, but I immediately open my eyes.

  It's just gone 3am, and although I've been trying to sleep for hours, the soreness in my side is keeping me awake, apart from a few dozing minutes here and there. Staring at the tiled ceiling, I try to calm myself down, to get back to that vaguely sleepy state of calm. Unfortunately, I can hear voices off in the distance, and I realize with a sigh that I'm well and truly alert.

  Slowly, I get out of bed, dragging my drip-bag and trolley to the door. The corridor is deserted, and even the ward's watch station looks to be deserted, with the night-duty nurse having apparently decided that she's got better things to do than sit and listen out for trouble. Still, there are voices in the distance, and it sounds as if some people are arguing with one another. I know I should go back to bed, but my natural curiosity gets the better of me and I make my way barefoot along the corridor. The wheels of my trolley are squeaking like crazy, so I guess I won't be able to sneak up on anyone, but I'm wide awake and the last thing I want right now is to stay in bed, sweating and staring at the ceiling.

  "Did you hear something?" asks a female voice up ahead.

  Realizing that my squeaky wheels have given me away, I step through into a nearby alcove, waiting in the darkness for a moment while one of the nurses comes out to take a look. I hear her walking closer for a moment, before she stops and turns back.

  "It's nothing," she says as she goes back into one of the other rooms.

  I wait a moment, until I'm certain that the coast is clear, and then I drag my drip-bag and trolley back into the corridor. There's a distant hum now, as if a machine is being used, and as I get closer to the next door, I realize that there are several people in the room. Peering around the corner, I see Dr. Page standing next to a bed, with a female patient wired up to various monitors and devices. Nurse Aubry is making some adjustments to one of the monitors, and Dr. Gerrold is examining some medical charts.

  "I'm not saying I believe in ghosts," Nurse Aubry says, turning to Dr. Page, "but -"

  "Let me stop you right there," he replies, not even bothering to look at her. "When people start a sentence like that, they invariably go on to say something totally preposterous."

  "But think about how many people have died on this ward," she continues. "If ghosts existed, this is the kind of place they'd be."

  "If I was a ghost," Dr. Gerrold mutters, still staring at the medical charts through a pair of owlish spectacles, "I wouldn't stick around the place where I died. It'd get me down."

  "Maybe there's -" Nurse Aubry starts to say, before glancing over at the door and making eye contact with me. "We've got a visitor," she says with a faint smile.

  Dr. Page and Dr. Gerrold turn to me.

  "I couldn't sleep," I say, suddenly realizing that I should probably have just stayed in my room. "I heard voices and..."

  Nurse Aubry smiles as she comes over to me. "It's okay, Cally. We're just looking after a patient. I'll show you back to your room."

  "I didn't mean to intrude," I say as she steers me away from the door. "I just came to see what was happening."

  "We're just dealing with a difficult patient," she replies, "that's all. There's nothing to worry about. If you like, I can give you something that'll help you get to sleep. There's no point tossing and turning when we've got enough sedatives to take down an army of elephants."

  "That sounds good," I reply, before gasping as the pain hits my left side again. Stopping, I lean against the wall for a moment, holding my breath as I try to fight the agony. I've found in the past that by holding my breath, I can sometimes make the pain dissipate more quickly, and sure enough, I feel it gradually easing. Unfortunately, as I start to breathe again, I realize that I've already attracted Nurse Aubry's attention.

  "Where does it hurt?" she asks, reaching a hand out to feel my side. I wait as she slips the hand under my pajama top, and seconds later she feels the swelling. "How long have you had this?" she asks, with obvious concern.

  "Not long," I reply.

  "How long, Cally?"

  "Just a couple of days."

  "And you didn't tell anyone?"

  "It's nothing," I reply, even though I know what she's going to say next. "I didn't want to bother anyone," I add. "I figured it'd come up during my next examination, so I thought there was no rush."

  "You need to get back to bed," she says, leading me toward the door to my room. Her tone of voice has changed now, and she's clearly concerned about my condition. "I'm going to make sure that Dr. Page comes to see you first thing in the morning. Is there anything else you've been keeping from us, Cally?"

  "Nothing," I say, stopping as I see my empty bed.

  "What's wrong?" she asks, turning to me.

  "It's just that bed," I reply, unable to stop staring at the sheets. "It's..." I pause for a moment. "This is where I'm going to die, isn't it?"

  "You need to stay positive," she says, repeating a line that she's probably used a million times over the years.

  "But it is," I continue. "This bed, in this room, is where I'm going to..." I take a deep breath as I realize that I'm on the verge of tears. "That's my death bed," I add. "You can understand that I really don't want to spend too much time in there, right?"

  "You need to rest," she says firmly.

  "I want to go out one day," I reply. "Just one day, just for a few hours. There's a pub I want to go to, not to drink, I just want to eat there. I want to do it before I get much worse, so do you think -"

  "You'll really have to ask Dr. Page about that."

  "But do you think he'll agree?"

  She pauses, and I can already see the answer in her eyes. "Dr. Page has your best interests at heart," she says evasively. "If you tell him what you want, I'm sure he'll make the right decision."

  Sighing, I realize that there's no point talking to her. She's always been Dr. Page's little helper, and there's not a chance in hell th
at she'd ever say anything against the man. Pulling my arm free from her grip, I drag my drip-bag and trolley over to the bed, and then I slowly, achingly get back under the sheets.

  "Can I get you anything?" Nurse Aubry asks as she opens a cabinet by my bed.

  I shake my head.

  "Dr. Page will be along first thing in the morning," she continues. "Until then -"

  "I'm pretty sleepy," I say. "I don't think I need a sedative."

  "Are you sure?"

  I nod. The truth is, I feel as if I'm already so full of various drugs, I'm likely to burst if anything else is introduced to my system. Besides, if I've only got a few weeks left, I want to at least be conscious as much as possible. There's no particular need for me to get to sleep.

  Putting the medication back in the cabinet, she locks the door. "Just press the buzzer if you need anything," she says. "Don't get up and start wandering around, Cally. You need your strength. I'll come back in half an hour, and if you're not asleep I'll give you a little nudge to get you on your way, okay?" She heads to the door, before glancing back at me. "You need to focus on the positives. You've got such a lovely daughter. For her sake, you need to spend as much quality time with her as possible. It's those memories that -"

  "Thank you," I say firmly, cutting her off. "I'd like to go to sleep now."

  Once she's gone, I settle back and stare up at the ceiling once again. I swear, the swelling on my left side seems to be throbbing slightly, but at least there's no pain. Still, I know it's coming. Maybe in a second, maybe in a minute, maybe not until the morning, but the pain is most definitely on its way back. I don't know how it decides when to strike, but I've always felt that my cancer is able to pick the most opportune moments. This latest manifestation, this swelling, is merely its latest attempt to rock me. I swear, it feels as if there's this thing living inside my body, something that hates me and wants to hurts me as much as possible before I die. Sometimes, late at night when the ward is quiet, I even imagine that I can hear it whispering to me.