Affliction

by Daniels, Dottie

  It was the sound of my mother’s voice that woke me up. Sadly, she wasn’t anywhere around. I opened my eyes to find that I was lying in a hospital bed, in a gown, hooked up to several monitors and both of my arms were restrained. It seemed like I was not in an actual hospital because the large room was sparsely decorated, missing windows and things like medical supply cabinets, and generally felt like something other than a place of health care. Other than the bed and the machines, there were only plain white walls, one side table and lighting that was too dim and stylish for any hospital ward. There was also a single professional looking office chair next to my bed. I felt quite groggy and would’ve thought that the events that I remembered were just a dream if it weren’t for the dull pain in my forearm and shoulder. I had an IV in my right arm that was connected to a drug delivery pump and an oxygen sensor on my finger that I was all too familiar with as a paramedic. It was hard for me to look up to see which medications I had been given though I would easily be able to figure out the more commonly used ones from the label on the IV bags. The pain in my shoulder combined with the limb restraints restricted even the slightest movement in my neck so I spent a few minutes looking at the ceiling, searching the plain surface above to recall recent events. Looking down I saw that my left forearm was bandaged. Remembering why caused me to panic.

  I tried to pull on the restraints but I knew they were designed to handle that so I gave up. I heard the machines behind me react to the increase of my blood pressure and pulse and I knew that somewhere, somebody saw this same reaction on their monitors too. I knew that typically someone should be assigned to watch the monitors but since this probably wasn’t a hospital there was no telling what kind of system they’d be running. I worried about Graham and felt even more uneasy because I didn’t know what happened to him after we left his house. From the back of the armored van I couldn’t tell in which direction they drove or if Graham was even allowed to go to the same place I was now. I hoped that I was just being irrational; perhaps I really was in the room of a hospital and I would find out that everything was under control. Hell, maybe all of what I thought happened never did and I instead have managed to develop some psychosis and this is some mental facility. I’d be overjoyed if that was the case… I think. Still not feeling at ease and also slightly lightheaded, I laid my head back on the single pillow. Thinking about the reality, I closed my eyes for a second to contemplate the bite on my arm and how long I’d have left before I’d end up like the many others I’d seen staggering around. I tried calculating how many hours I might have lost. Meanwhile, the door to the room suddenly opened and I was startled out of my thoughts.

  A youthful Middle Eastern man wearing glasses and a lab coat walked in. I squinted trying to look at his badge to get a name but it was too hard for me to see in the dim light. “Miss Burges,” he said in a surprisingly American accent as he approached me. When he spoke I figured that he was probably not Middle Eastern at all but from India or Pakistan, raised here.

  “You can call me Seanna, who are you and where am I?”

  “Okay Seanna, my name is Dr. Sainiraj Chavan. I am a research assistant here…”

  “Are you a medical doctor?” I interrupted him quickly.

  “I am. I have also attained my Ph.D. in Bio-Genetics...”

  “Am I in a hospital?” I interrupted again. I was usually more polite when I met people but he’d have to understand that today I wanted the short version.

  “You’re in a safe place, where we can monitor and take care of you…”

  The simplicity of his nondisclosure was not going to suffice for me, not one bit. The monitors sounded again at the increase of my vital signs. Dr. Chavan looked up at the monitor in response and warned, “I’m going to need you to remain calm Miss––Seanna.” I knew I had no control over what those monitors were sounding over but I realized something was different because I actually felt it now. I felt like the virus was in me and it was like a rush of heat with chills to follow. The wounds on my arm and shoulder were starting to burn with pain.

  “How long do I have, Dr. Chavan?” I wasted no time before asking another question. Ignoring all the pain I was in, I sat straight up in the bed. “Where am I?” I said in a louder tone.

  “You are at a research facility in New Jersey,” he said in a low voice.

  “What’s going on with me? I’m infected, right? That’s why I’m restrained? Am I going to end up like the others?” I had so much running through my mind I could barely keep up with it. He must’ve sensed my anxiety and took pity on me because he hesitated and looked at the door, as if someone else might come into the room and catch him divulging secrets. He sat down in the chair next to my bed, leaned forward and looked into my eyes. I looked right back waiting for anything he could tell me.

  “I will tell you this, because I know you’re afraid and have many questions,” he began but I saw that he glanced at the door once more.

  I was all ears. “Yes,” I said as I rested back on the pillow, exhausted from just sitting up.

  “You are being studied. You do have the virus because you were bitten, you remember?”

  “Yes, I remember.” How could I forget?

  “You are experiencing some of the similar symptoms from the infection but my team and I believe your prognosis could possibly be non-fatal versus all the others who have the very same thing and expire as a result.” He paused.

  “There’s a chance I won’t die from this?” Suddenly I felt really warm again and my arm radiated in so much pain I had to remain still and close my eyes. He gave me a few seconds to recover while he retrieved a pair of disposable gloves from the drawer on the nightstand and slid them on. He then quickly examined underneath the bandage where I was also able to see the once bite-sized wound that was now sutured into a slightly crooked little line. What was missing, that I noticed from the other scratches and bites I’d seen, was the absence of bruising and build-up of mucous that had accumulated in small amounts in and around wherever the dead ones managed to break the skin. Don’t get me wrong, the injury hurt but visibly the injury looked less like an infection was present.

  “I don’t have much time to explain but it seems like you are tolerating this virus much better.” He sealed the bandage back up, discarded his gloves and reached for the chart at the foot of the bed to write some notes down.

  “Why am I feeling so hot and tired? I must have a fever, right?”

  “Well you were shot and there may or may not be some tiny fragments of the bullet in your shoulder still. One of my colleagues removed the bullet so you’ll probably have another X-ray now that you’re more stable.”

  The doctor stood up to look the monitors and write additional things down on his chart. There wasn’t a clock in the room, which was probably on purpose. I asked him about the time and was surprised to find out that it was still the same day but now almost midnight, at least nine hours after the incident at Graham’s house. I asked him about Graham hoping he’d continue to be open with me but he answered curtly with, “I wouldn’t know about that. I’ve been assigned only to your care.”

  What kind of answer was that? I figure he should at least know how many people came into the facility along with me.

  “I know there will be someone coming in to talk to you soon, but for safety reasons, this is all that I can tell you. We’re trying to get more of your medical history and...” Dr. Chavan was interrupted as the door quickly swung open and in walked a man that may have been about the same age as the doctor, only this man was shorter and instead of a lab coat he wore a blazer and jeans. The man also wore glasses and was definitely American; I could tell by the way he walked. I don’t know if he was Dr. Chavan’s colleague or superior but he carried himself as if he had some kind of authority.

  “How are things going?” The man said as he walked up to Dr. Chavan. It was obvious he wasn’t talking to me since there was no eye contact whatsoever.

  “I’m looking over her vitals now so I ca
n update them with the lab. Her temp is still the same––we’ll do another CBC for comparison shortly,” Chavan informed him.

  “Good. You can discontinue the Polymyxin after this dose is finished. We’ll want a complete report from you guys in the morning. He’ll want to see it too.” He paused after glancing at me during which I looked directly at him as well. “I just spoke with Sinclair. He thinks the progress is good overall… I’ll see you in the morning then.”

  The man, who stood in a way that prevented me from seeing his badge walked out of the room as quickly as he came in. As soon as the door closed I pressed on with the doctor because I knew he would be the only source I had for information until a better one came along.

  “Who was that?” I asked.

  “He’s from Administration.”

  “There’s going to be a meeting about me in the morning?”

  “There is a meeting in the morning; you are a part of the agenda.”

  “Polymyxin––that’s used to treat infections.”

  “Correct.” Again he was curt. He avoided any eye contact with me and looked only at the chart, perhaps reading previous notes as he flipped back through the few pages.

  “Listen, I know you said you can’t talk but I am being treated and have a right to know what’s going on from the diagnosis to treatments and everything. It’s obvious with everything that’s happening that I won’t be going anywhere. There’s nowhere to go––you know that,” I pleaded with him but I didn’t want to sound desperate.

  Chavan looked at me from the corner of his eyes while he was still taking notes. He wrote down a few more things before he flipped the rest of the stack of papers back and sat the clipboard on the chair. I heard the monitors beep in response and instantly felt the surge of heat again along with the pain, which went from dull and numb to significant in a matter of seconds. I closed my eyes tightly in hopes that it would pass. I was afraid now because this time the pain was everywhere; my nerves seemed to shake with it as the most severe portions of it were still at the site of both wounds. I let out a gasp, which got the doctor moving as he reached into his lab coat and pulled out a syringe. He found the port on my IV, unscrewed the cap and attached the syringe to the tube.

  “This is Dilaudid,” he said as he pushed the medication into my veins. “It will treat your pain and help you relax…”

  “I know. Ouch!” I squinted and balled my restrained fists.

  “Just give it a moment to work.”

  “Something’s not right about this. Please help me, doctor!” I pleaded and shut my eyes again because it was all I could do. I was still restrained.

  He took the syringe out after it was emptied and attached the IV tube back in its original place. He patted the top of my uninjured right shoulder as I started to drift off from the effects. I could feel myself get lighter as my head disconnected from the rest of my body. Not able to consider everything, now I felt like every worry was taken away. I didn’t have the power to put up a fuss. My mouth was still active however as I pleaded with the young doctor my concerns.

  “I need you to help me, Dr. Chavan.” I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.

  “I know; we’ll give our best shot,” he replied as he stroked my arm.

  “You don’t understand; I need to find Graham. I want to see him before I...”

  “It is my intent to help you, Seanna.”

  Chapter Five

  I slowly emerged from unconsciousness and what seemed like total obscurity. It felt as if I just surfaced from a place without memories, feelings or the ability to reason. I was still in the same basic room as before with the machines and monitors behind me. As if I needed more proof, I took a moment to think of all of the events and people that I came into contact with: Ronny showing up at my apartment to tell me that there were dead people walking around and attacking anyone alive, my reluctance to stay in my apartment after I tried to call my parents and brother, Graham’s brief conversation with me before the phones went out, Ronny and I leaving the apartment, Ruthie’s infection, Darin’s infection and the brawl at Graham’s place that left April infected too, the dead ones busting through his living room window and finally my own little scuffle, which left me infected and shot by God knows who. It was the dull pain in my shoulder that verified my reality and that, as a result of it, I’d been taken to some facility in New Jersey according to a research doctor so I could be studied and monitored. If I remembered correctly, the doctor told me it seemed as if I might not “expire” like everyone else who got infected.

  Why was I still being restrained then?

  The door to the room opened again, interrupting my thoughts. This time there was a different man accompanying the research doctor. They both approached my bedside where the doctor had a few tubes used for blood collection in his hand. He introduced himself to me again while the other man stood back and observed me.

  “Do you remember me? I’m Dr. Chavan.”

  “I do. Your first name is Sainiraj.” I pronounced it to the best of my ability.

  “It is,” he glanced over at the other man who gave a quick smile.

  “Seanna, I am going to take a few tubes of your blood for further testing. In the mean

  time, tell me how you are feeling,” I nodded my head and the doctor grabbed another pair of gloves, disconnected the IV port and began the process of drawing blood into three tubes. I started talking and looked down in time to see him pull a fourth tube out of the pocket of his lab coat. I focused on the different colors on the caps of the tubes he was filling as I tried to describe in my best words what was basically any person’s worst nightmare.

  “I don’t know how I feel right now—I’ve never felt this… My arm and shoulder still hurt but the pains all over aren’t as bad as before,” I glanced down at my arm and back at the doctor as he quickly removed one tube and then added another to fill in its place.

  “Why am I still in these restraints? You told me I’m not turning into one of them yet. I promise I’ll let you know if I feel weird or something. I’ve seen it happen to others––they die first before coming back.”

  “I know it’s awkward, Seanna. Please be patient with us,” he replied as he switched to yet another tube for collection. I looked past him and saw that the other man was still observing all of my actions. Once our eyes met I gave him a quick glare before shifting my focus back to Dr. Chavan and his blood draw. I sighed in frustration before another wave of pain swarmed in on me. I did my best to react minimally to it because I knew it would go against everything I just said only seconds ago. Even worse, I didn’t need two people to witness this contradiction––it wouldn’t help my efforts one bit. Detecting the change in my vitals, the alarm on the monitors sounded, giving away any last chance of keeping the horrible pain a secret any longer. I gripped the railings on the bed but there was nothing that would distract or deter the pain from running its course.

  “Oh my God this hurts!” was all I could mutter as I squeezed my eyes closed.

  “Where does it hurt, Seanna?” the doctor questioned.

  “Everywhere.”

  “Just lie back. I’ll get you something for it,” he tried to assure me.

  “No, I don’t want to lose any more time.”

  Aside from my fidgeting, the doctor was able to finish the last two tubes of blood, the last one of which he slipped back into his lab coat pocket. Dr. Chavan was standing with his back to the man in a way that it was doubtful he would actually see the tube going into the pocket. Dr. Chavan finished the draw, passed the three tubes to the man and told him he was going to stay with me until the pain passed. The man gladly accepted the vials with gloved hands and rushed out of the room as Dr. Chavan quickly went to an intercom that was behind my bed on the wall. I heard him call for someone to bring another dose of the pain medication and antiviral. I was shivering in pain by the time he finished the order.

  “Are you sure I’m not going to die?” I said as I took in deep breaths from t
he drain of energy.

  “The truth is anyone else bitten at the same time as you would’ve likely expired by now. Your pain is about the only visible indication of it. I’m almost tempted to say it doesn’t seem like you will die—from this. We all die at some point though.” He pulled the sheet and blanket up on me a little.

  “That’s true.”

  “Someone is coming to bring the medications. The good news is I think the antiviral is strong enough to at least help slow the pain attacks it just takes a while to get into your system...”

  “About that other vial you put in your pocket, Doctor,” I cut him off. The pain was still wrenching but I wanted to get my point across.

  “Let’s say that you take these restraints off and I won’t tell the next person that comes in here to check your pockets.” I looked him square in the eyes with my best poker face. He spoke only after he narrowed his eyes at me and took a deep breath of his own.

  “Seanna, I’m not the one in charge of making that decision. You are sorely mistaken if you think telling on me will increase your chances of getting out of this room or seeing your boyfriend and family again. If you were able to recall my first name, then I’m sure you can remember what I told you the last time we spoke.” He was calm and serious in his reply as his dark eyes stared at me right back.

  Touché, Doctor.

  I took a moment and thought about it. The doctor could see that I was mulling this over as the door opened and the same man returned with a liquid-filled syringe and a 250cc bag of fluid––the antiviral I assumed. He gave the two items to the doctor who placed the bag on the IV pole for later and took the syringe and started to administer the drug into the IV port, same as before. I noticed the man resumed his post observing as the doctor quietly finished the injection. In that short amount of time, I’d change my mind about receiving the pain medication; it was a godsend because by now I was exhausted from going through intense spasms of pain that radiated from head to toe.