Wolv

10 - Dr. Abrams

Beep!

Beep!

Beep!

Beep!

I lifted my eyelids open, listening to the rhythmic beeping that surrounded me. I was covered in a white blanket, lying in a bed of some sort. The walls around me were a sterile white, and a curtain was drawn to my left. Through the fabric of the curtain, I could make out another bed, and a doorway.

An intravenous tube snaked down from a stainless steel pole beside me and down into my right arm, its entry point concealed with a piece of medical tape. I followed the line up the pole and into a plastic bag, half full of a clear liquid. I followed the tube back down into my arm, entering in my wrist.

My eyes ran down my arm, stopping at the bite mark. The teeth marks were very obviously ringed with dark, purple lines extending outwards, tracing my veins.

I tried to sit up, but was my joints all seemed to lock up at once. Every knuckle, every bone inside of me ached. My jaw even hurt. I felt my upper jaw with my tongue. My tongue passed over the long scar inside my mouth where the doctors had cut along years ago, grinding into bone, and moving my jaw forward, locking it in place with four titanium clips. Beneath the scar, I could feel the four distinctive bumps of the clips for the first time. Up until now, I had never felt their presence, and the fact that I could now was rather disconcerting.

I flexed my fingers, relieving some of their stiffness, and used my arms to push myself up into a sitting position, grunting at the effort.

"Ack!" I yelped in surprise. The nail beds on all of my fingers had turned completely black, and my fingernails themselves were no longer glossy and smooth. I looked closely at my fingers, then at my hands. The palms of my hands were dark grey tinged with red, looking out of place against the rest of my hands and skin.

I heard footsteps approaching, and the door on the other side of the curtain opened. Two doctors wearing turquoise surgical gowns entered my section of the room, trailed by a nurse clad in a white coat. I opened my mouth before they did.

"W-what's happening to me? Why are my fingers all black?" I moved to lean forward, but one of the doctors held up his hand, cutting me off.

"You're very sick, Humfrey." He pulled up a chair to my bedside and sat down, setting a clipboard on the sheets beside me. "I'm Doctor Abrams, this is Doctor Connor." He motioned at his colleague.

"That's great to know. What happened to me?" I asked again. Honestly, I didn't care who they were. I just wanted to know what was going on! I felt sore, disorientated, and above all, afraid.

"You fell down a flight of stairs and had a seizure. One of your managers called an ambulance."

I shook my head, pressing a hand to my eyes. "I've never had a seizure before. I'm not epileptic or anything...am I?"

"I don't think so." Abrams pointed to my right arm, lifting it up in his hands. "What happened to your arm?"

I paused, staring at my arm. You wouldn't believe me if I told you. No one has so far, anyway. "I went camping last week and I went down a set of rapids." I pointed to the puncture mark from my bone. "I broke my arm pretty bad."

Dr. Abrams frowned, and felt along the length of the bone. "Last week?"  His frown deepened as his fingers came to a halt over the fracture. "There's definitely an old break in here. Where did you go to get it set and casted?" I smiled to myself knowingly. Aaaaand this is the part of the story where I lose you.