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From her superior vantage point, Janet watched the woman.
Laying serenely on the crisp little metal bed, the starched white sheets bore a startling resemblance to her pale, still face.
She was surprised at the lack of activity...angered almost. Surely there should have been nurses and doctors scuttling around like ants. Instead the silence was deafening and hugely so.
The cheery patterned curtains billowed slightly and she noticed the busy car park outside. So many people were in this building, so much activity. It was like a world within itself.
Not in here though. In here lay a woman, a pitcher of water, and a strange and unfamiliar scent.
Because Janet had a bird's eye view, she spied tubing that was attached to the woman's nose. How undignified to have a plastic tube inserted in your nose. Not at all attractive, she thought.
Janet also spied some wires and shuddered when she thought of how they might be attached.
The door was suddenly opened, and a prim little woman dressed in white picked up the clipboard that was hanging at the base of the bed.
The lady in white looked quizzically at the motionless woman and made a few notes with a biro.
She made a few adjustments to the wire and departed sharply.
From her private viewing gallery, Janet tutted. Obviously the woman was extremely ill and deserved more than this very basic care.
Where were her get-well cards and her bunches of grapes? Surely this fine woman had relatives and friends...where were
they? Certainly not visiting any way.
Janet could feel herself getting very riled. She had felt strange all day, and the slightest thing was now starting to greatly concern her.
In the distance she could hear alarms, cries and shouting.
After all, in a place like this life began and ended.
Janet supposed that there were at this very moment, cries of happiness and of great distress. This puzzled her. It was almost like a joke in a Christmas cracker...where can you be happy and sad at the same
time. Answer: a hospital.
Janet stared hard at the statue-like woman. How strange to be so still for so long. At least your hair wouldn't get messed up, but surely she'd have terrible cramp when she eventually awoke.
Janet moved around a lot when she slept...or did she, she felt so peculiar, and the art of remembering things was becoming increasingly difficult.
The door opened again.
'Oh goody' thought Janet sarcastically. 'They've managed to spare her another few seconds then'
This time it was a hospital registrar. Janet knew this from when she had been
hospitalized before. But what had she been in hospital for...she was damned if she could remember.
The registrar actually seemed to show a modicum of concern. He massaged the woman's feet and tapped them with a hammer.
Next he shone a small light into her eyes.
Janet thought what a blessing it was that the woman was well out of it. After all, she may have been very ticklish, and the light reminded her of a Gestapo interrogation.
The orderly lingered for a little too long for Janet's comfort, and was she imagining it or was he looking exceedingly troubled.
He made his exit, and the room was once again serenely silent.
Janet was in a position now to see the notes at the foot of the bed. Goodness, she had no name. Well obviously she did have a name...everyone did. This woman though had been brought into hospital after an accident that had gone unwitnessed. No one knew who she was. This, for some reason, greatly disturbed Janet, and for a few seconds she felt the urge to cry.
It seemed so dreadfully and utterly sad that she could be in here and her family, if she had one, knew nothing.
Janet was feeling a little faint, and her heart was producing palpitations. It was as if her energy was being bled from
her; what a strange feeling.
She saw the door open again and three people entered. The first, a man in his forties was crying.
'Oh great' thought Janet. 'Come in to visit, to try and induce her to get better, then cry all over her...typical
man.'
The other two who were now sitting by the woman's side were holding her hands. They too were showing signs of great distress. Janet knew them to be the husband and two children.
The two children were well into their late teenage years but were still crying like babies.
At this sight Janet too tried to weep, but the tears wouldn't come. She now thought that she knew these three tortured souls from somewhere, and the scene was getting more melancholy by the minute.
Janet was getting tired now. She was also starting to remember recent events.
Yesterday she had seen a clairvoyant who had warned her that she was going to be involved in an accident. She had decided that the old adage better to be safe than sorry was a good one. All day she had stayed in the house. Her husband had gone to work and her children to college. She, though, had remained within the four walls. After all no accident could harm her if she were indoors.
Unfortunately for her though, Janet had completely forgotten about the faulty flex on the electric iron. She had been meaning to fix it for an eternity but had never found the time.
Yes, it was all coming back to her now. The reality of the events hit her like a sledgehammer.
Janet surveyed the scene again and recoiled in horror as she heard a senior consultant tell her husband and children that they needed a letter of consent signed. Did they agree that the life support system should be switched off now? He told them softly and with a newly found compassion that the
woman...Mrs. Janet Stringer was in fact clinically dead ...would never recover.
Like water from a tap, the life suddenly started to ebb away from Janet.
"No!" she hollered as the form was duly signed
"Don't do it". But even though she tried, the words wouldn't come.
Her head swum, and a choir began to sing.
Many people had come and gone from the room, and the husband and two children were left now.
The curtains still billowed, and the pitcher of water stayed untouched.
Janet suddenly felt calmer than she had done in a long time.
Following the sweet sound of the heavenly choir, she took one last look down at her recently departed body, and her soul took flight.
©2002 StoriesByEmail.com
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