by Jan Miller
Summer Shorts
Four Short Stories
Copyright 2014 Jan Earl Miller
Published by Jan Earl Miller at Smashwords
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Discover other titles by Jan Earl Miller
"The Boys Next Door"
Table of Contents
1.Prologue
2.Radar
3.BB Boy
4.Mirror, Mirror
5.Fire Dance
6.Acknowledgements
7.About the Author
Prologue
What do you want from life? A pathway to a respectable career? An escape from a respectable career? Acceptance by society? Escape from society? What would you do to get it?
Every five years our own private world completes its revolution, and we are totally different creatures than we were at the beginning of that revolution. Our wants, needs, society, finances and family transform in that revolution.
So that question, "What do you want from life" is different for a six year old, a twenty year old, a mid-thirties year old, and a sixty-something year old. Let's examine the lives of four men through four short stories. When you finish reading them, ask yourself "Did they get what they wanted? And then ask yourself "Was it worth the price they had to pay?" Would you have paid it?
"Radar"
"Hold his head still with both your hands while I stitch up his busted lip. A couple of teeth went right through it…musta' hit the steering wheel" the young intern instructed. Radar said "Ok. Got it" Nurse Ann whispered in Radar's ear "Talk to him. He's drunk and rowdy. Try to keep him still". The patient who called himself "Wild Bill" had just been brought into the ER by a local squad. The paramedics wheeled him in to the first exam room and Radar helped them move him onto the gurney for examination. Wild Bill had way too many Buds that night and drove his pickup head first into a large oak tree. The tree won the encounter and was still standing, scarred…but upright and otherwise intact. Wild Bill, on the other hand, had flown head first through his windshield and was now in Memorial Hospital's emergency room, his face and tee shirt drenched in his own blood.
******
Radar had overtime taught himself a coping mechanism: blood is just leaked engine oil…that's all…nothing more. He thought back to his first day on the job as an orderly…when blood was blood. That first day had started with all the chaos and confusion any college-aged teen would encounter on a new job. The world of a hospital--- with its glaring fluorescent lit halls and beige walls, it was a harsh, alien scene. The white uniforms of the 1970's exaggerated the features of the lower ranks who wore them: the nurses, nurse aids, technicians, and orderlies. As one of the latter group, Radar was part of the bottom caste…those who see the worst there is to be seen up close; those who mop it up, and those who bag it and haul it away.
Even though the dress rules were strict regarding their uniforms, each member of the caste added their own little signature look to his or her appearance. The nurse aides who shared the same bottom rung as the orderlies could be identified by their cheap hair dye jobs and over-abundance of make-up. Some pushed the dress code envelope by wearing non-regulation brightly colored panty hose, giving those women the look of a hooker dressing up like a nurse to work a bachelor party. The young female technicians working in X-ray and the various therapy departments also took liberties with their panty hose colors, but their subdued color choices, natural hair shades, and normal make-up distinguished them from the aides. The real nurses---the RN's and LPN's--- were held to the letter of the dress guidelines and were sent home to change if they deviated in any way. The orderlies followed a simple, but strict dress code: white smock or "tunic", white pants, white hospital-approved plain tennis shoes and white socks. Being that it was the Seventies; the hospital administration was somewhat lenient on the length of orderly hair: it must be off the shoulders and clean. No beards were permitted, even though several doctors had them.
Radar liked the simplicity of the uniform: it kept him from trying to figure out what was in style every morning. Being young and single, looks were still very important in a youthful society. But as he would find out, the hospital whites had an effect on everyone he encountered. They assumed that he had the knowledge…and he would learn how to use that impression to get his job done.
The knowledge couldn't prepare him for what he was about to encounter on that first day. Shortly after picking up his pager and then making his way to the nurses' break area at the side of the nurses station, his pager beeped and he was instructed to go to the morgue to assist in "a squad delivery". "E" was waiting for him there. "E", as they called him, was about six feet three…an imposing figure with jet black hair and long thick sideburns just like the ones his idol Elvis Presley wore. He got his nickname "E" because he moonlighted as an Elvis impersonator. "E" was always singing, regardless of the situation. A kinder, gentler soul you would never meet.
"E" greeted Radar with "Boy, do we have a treat for you on your first day!" as Radar entered the room, wild eyed at stepping foot into an actual morgue. If the hallway fluorescent lights created a ghoulish environment, the stainless steel autopsy tables, examination tool trays, wall cabinets, and large mounted flood lights made the morgue look like something out of a Sci-Fi Frankenstein movie. "You're…we're gonna need this" "E" chuckled; pulling a large aerosol can out of one of the stainless steel cabinets. "Undertakers use this stuff to spray the ripe ones." He then lowered his voice and took on a fatherly tone: "I'll warn you right now…you're gonna puke. There's no stopping it…even if I soak it with the entire can of this stuff. It will hit you like a big, hairy arm jamming itself right down your throat and pulling the barf out of your stomach before you know it. We all do it, so don't get down on yourself… OK?"
Radar wondered what the hell he had got himself into. There was no discussion of "ripe ones" during the job interview. The kindly hospital educator had talked about helping people, learning about the medical world, and how…if Radar so decided…the hospital would pay his tuition to go to nursing school. That seemed like the golden ticket Radar had so desperately sought: a career pathway. With that education, he would work in the booming field of male nursing or even become a paramedic. Radar jumped at such an opportunity to change his life to become a valued member of society.
The emergency squad backed up to the loading dock. Between the paramedics and two orderlies lifted the gurney out of the squad, up onto the dock, and then wheeled it into the morgue. The paramedics were laughing with "E" as he told them they had "new meat" in their midst. One paramedic who also worked on his off days as an orderly told "E": "This guy's a floater. Two weeks in the river, we figure. A cop had him at Fourth Street but when he turned him over, the floater's eyeball fell out along with a bunch of maggots. The cop dropped him back into the river, and he called us."E" laughed "So you got to fish him out?" The part-time orderly laughed "Yeah. They lowered me off the Fourth Street Bridge. I got a rope round his body and we hauled him up. He's a bad one…so decomposed we couldn't tell what race he was."
"E" shot Radar a glance, smiled, and pronounced "Let's see". He quickly opened the leather body bag part way and sprayed nearly the entire aerosol can's contents into the bag. "We already used two cans on him" the p
aramedic warned "It won't help. Now excuse us while we back out onto the dock before you open it all the way". "E" unzipped the bag all the way. He had been right: Radar instantly dropped to his knees puking onto the spotlessly clean tile floor. Outside the paramedics laughed heartily. "E" had his own head under a faucet at one of the big stainless steel sinks, coughing and fighting back the vomit in the back of this throat. "On second thought, we'll keep it in the bag until the coroner gets here. This will stink up the whole basement level." "E" put a wet paper towel over his face to shield his nostrils and with his other hand; he zipped the bag back up. Radar had composed himself enough to take what was left in the aerosol can and spray his own mess on the floor. With paper towels, he cleaned it up. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a coffee break" E announced like they had just wheel-chaired an old lady from a car. "See you upstairs in the ER".
Radar no sooner made it upstairs to the ER desk than he was summoned by an older gray-haired ER doctor. "Hey boy, I need you in here right away!" Upon entering the examination room, Radar found a six year old boy sitting on the gurney with a nurse holding up his bloody left arm up by the wrist. The boy was crying and his striped golf shirt was smeared with blood and tears. The tall, slim, distinguished looking ER physician calmly instructed "Now, I'll need you to place his elbow on the gurney and hold his hand by the thumb and index finger so I can clean this wound and stitch it." Radar obliged, careful not to look down at child's hand. "You see, this one is actually a clean tear." The doctor explained as he dabbed and poked into the wound. "Caught your hand in the car door, did you little fellow?" The child sobbed and nodded his head. The doctor then addressed Radar again: "You can clearly make out all of the major tendons and ligaments here. This is a great wound to use as an anatomy lesson. See?" As Radar timidly looked down at the boy's gaping laceration, he realized that the flesh was opened like an envelope from the large knuckle of the index finger to the base of the thumb. Just as the doctor had explained, there they were…all of the muscles, ligaments, and tendons…plain as day.
Radar continued holding the child's hand and then watched studiously as the doctor first numbed, and then stitched the wound. The doctor took his time and went to great lengths to show Radar the proper technique to dress the sutured wound. "All done" the gentlemanly doctor announced. "You can hand him back to Mama, young man". Radar picked up the child gently and handed him to his mother who was waiting just outside the door. Turning back into the exam room, Radar began to thank the doctor: "That was really interesting. I really appreciate…your …man… is it hot in here or what?" The old doctor grinned and motioned with his arms to the nurses on either side of Radar to stand by to catch him.
Radar was apparently out for a good five minutes before coming to on a gurney in the ER hallway. The ER had filled up so quickly with patients that there was no other place to stick a passed-out greenhorn orderly. A passing nurse commented "Well---he lives!" as Radar slowly sat up and asked "What happened?" The nurse said over her shoulder "First time fainting? Stay down for a while. You've got ten minutes left." Radar was puzzled and indignant, sliding off the gurney he took two steps and down he went again." When he awoke the second time, he had been promoted to an ER exam room as a patient. "That knot on your head will serve as a reminder to you to stay down when a nurse tells you to stay down, young man" the same old doctor rebuked him. "We can't care for patients if our ER is filled up with orderlies who don't follow orders, now can we?" So went Radar's first day.
******
Over the next week, he would be trained on setting up traction equipment for post-surgical patients, inserting catheters in male patients (something Radar was quite uncomfortable doing), walking patients, assisting in the ER, and lastly performing cardio-pulmonary recessitation or "CPR". It was that last skill that Radar would come to dread. Unlike the scenarios played out on TV and in the movies, when summoned to a "Code Blue" heart attack situation, the orderlies performed all of the pumping of the patient's chest---not the doctors. The latter stood back and directed the orderlies and nurses involved in the "Code Blue" like a basketball coach would direct his players. And unlike TV and the movies, the first task was to get the patient onto a hard surface, either the floor or a wooden back board, so that the gurney or bed mattress would not absorb all of the pushes applied to the patient's chest.
Radar's first Code Blue was a surreal dream state type moment for him. From constant training repetitions, his hands responded before his mind cleared from its daze. He had the patient off of his bed and onto the floor in seconds as the young nurse aide who had called the Code Blue stood by crying hysterically. A large rotund head nurse stormed into the room, slapped the nurse aide once upon the face and ordered "Get a grip on it! Go get the cardiology doctor on duty STAT!" The nurse aide complied, dashing from the room. "What the hell you doing down there? Who are you?" Radar told her his name and that he had already checked the patient for false teeth and blocked airways. "Well, at least YOU remembered what the hell you're supposed to do. Where's the god-damn crash cart? Who's working this Code, for Christ's Sake?" Another veteran RN hastily rolled the Crash Cart into the room: a mobile chest filled with drawers of tubing, syringes, drug vials, and topped off with an electro-resuscitator and its paddles.
A very old, frail gray haired man wondered into the room dressed in a business suit. He gazed around at the frantic activity taking place and muttered incoherently "I…I…uh…I" The big nurse gave him a backhand to the chest and bellowed "Get out of the way, you old fool. Jesus Christ, is this the staff cardiologist? We're fucked!" The big nurse assumed command of the Code and barked out instructions to which everybody jumped. Later that evening when off duty, Radar proudly announced to his girlfriend "I saved a life today".
The next morning, Radar grabbed his coffee first thing in the ER break room. His new friend, Dodger shook his hand and told him "Nice job on the Code yesterday. Rose was impressed." (Nurse Rose was the large RN who took over the Code Blue). "Oh by the way, Styles wants to see you. You're on her Shit List". Nurse Styles was the day shift nursing supervisor. She had that Florence Nightingale-text book look of what a nurse should resemble: perfectly coiffed blonde hair, immaculate uniform, a tall and slender figure, and a pleasant proper speaking voice. Radar had been very impressed with her during her orientation speech to the new hires. He even commented to himself that she was probably one fine looking chick back in the day.
Now summoned to her office, Radar was upset over what he might have done wrong. He thought he had been careful to follow every rule…but there were so many rules to follow. Nurse Styles clued him in to his misbehavior. "We simply cannot have this sort of thing, you see. It is an infraction of the dress code." Radar looked at his whites. They were the same as the ones he wore the day before that and the day before that. "I don't understand, Nurse Styles." He stammered. She replied "Your tee shirt---it has stripes. The rules clearly state that you are to wear a solid white tee-shirt under your smock. Now do you have a solid white tee-shirt here in your locker, or will we be forced to send you home to change and dock you for your absence?" Radar thought and then blurted out "Oh, I have a spare in my locker." With that, Nurse Styles let him off with a warning and sent him on his way to go change tee shirts. In the bathroom, Radar turned his tee shirt inside out, put his smock back on and went about his duties without another word said on the matter. It did mark the beginning of a running feud between him and hospital bureaucracy.
Later that day, he was informed that the Code Blue patient had died in spite of the efforts of him and Nurse Rose. In the weeks that followed, there were eleven similar Code Blues with the same unfortunate results for Radar and company. He was beginning to wonder "why even bother?" His eagerness to learn and his loyalty to the hospital faded daily. He was soon wearing a path in the hallway from the ER to Nurse Styles' office for various infractions, including
•Failure to pick up his beeper promptly when arriving for his shift;
•Refusing to
follow an orthopedic surgeon's orders
(the drunken doctor had almost killed an ER patient by misreading the drug chart and administering too large a dose of Demeral. Shocked by what he had done, he ordered Radar to put a cast on her broken arm. Knowing that only a physician could apply a cast, Radar refused. The ER nurse who had saved the patient's life by administering epinephrine backed Radar's refusal);
•Wearing a tee shirt that had lettering that showed through his smock--second warning.
******
While Radar didn't seem to be getting along very well with the day shift supervisor, he did seem to do much better with the night shift supervisor, Nurse Warlock who had a reputation for not taking any crap off of anyone. Warlock did however appreciate had work and dedication to the job. Radar gained her respect the first time she encountered him late one Friday evening when she came to him with a problem. "We have a situation involving the stabbing patient that is currently up in surgery." Radar listened carefully. He had just finished his three to eleven PM shift when Warlock caught him preparing to turn in his pager. "It seems the patient was stabbed with a butcher knife by his wife. She just called in to see how he was doing and was told that he was in surgery." Warlock got to the point "She says she has a shotgun and is on her way here to finish the job on him. Now I can't make you stay…I'm only asking. Security was informed and promptly ran and hid. The cops are looking for her but can't guarantee they'll catch her in time. I need someone to stand in front of the Surgery door and stop her if she gets in. "Radar saw the look of desperation in her otherwise tough, determined face. Hers wasn't a request…it was a plea. He didn't hesitate. "I'll stay if I can smoke in the ER waiting room." Warlock laughed "It's a waiting room, isn't it?"
