:;The virus is the cure.

I woke up in the hospital. There was a needle in my arm, I could feel it. I slowed my breathing and heartrate, listening before I opened my eyes. There was nothing out of the ordinary I could make out. I opened my eyes.

It was everything a hospital room should be. A curtain divided me from the empty bed next to me. There was a TV on the wall, off. Sunlight streamed through the windows, indicating it was either early morning or late afternoon. I was alone.

I pulled the needle from my arm and sat up. The leads on my head brushed against my face, so I removed those too. I was wired into some sort of machine that was making lines on a sheet of paper. Each wire I removed made one of those lines go flat. I grabbed the paper readout, but I couldn’t make any sense of it. Whatever that machine was, it didn’t seem to be networked. I thanked the gods for underfunded hospitals and out of date equipment, then mentally kicked myself. and called myself an asshole, for good measure.

I reached down at the foot of the bed and grabbed the chart there. I flipped through it, but I couldn’t read doctor. The times were mostly legible, and my temperature had dropped from 104.3 down to *flip* 102. It looked like I was scheduled for something called an EOG, 40 minute procedure starting at 10:20.

My clothes were folded up on a chair, with my phone on top. I opened it up, and looked at the time: 10:40 AM. I slid the battery out, put on my shades, then started to dress. My phone had been out of my sight for who knows how long, and was possibly compromised. Well, it was already compromised, compromised more? I didn’t have time to figure it out. I had 20 minutes until someone poked in here, and I had to decide what to do. Worse, buttons were not co-operating. I was panting by the time I had my shoes tied.

I gathered the paper that machine had spewed out, and my file from the foot of the bed. I folded them over and stuffed them down the back of my pants, and covered them with my shirt. I tested my ability to stand, and it was good. I hugged the wall to the door.

It was too late.

The man who came in was wearing a nametag and a lab coat. “Dr. Smith, “ the little tag said. It might as well said, “You're doomed.” He seemed startled I was up.

“You shouldn’t be standing.” He tried to herd me back to the bed.

I held up my hand, “I’m fine. “

“Why don’t you sit down and we’ll talk about it?” oh he was good.

“First, do you have a cell phone on you?”

He nodded, “We can get you a phone if needed.”

I shook my head, “Let me see your phone and we can talk. Ok?”

I wasn’t certain why, but he forked it over. I took the battery out and poked my head out of the room. I saw the crash cart, the elevator at the end of the hall. A nurse turned the corner and pressed the button. I waved her over.

“Hey? Nurse? Come over here please.” She approached with a scowl. I slipped both phones in her pocket, “Could you hang onto this for a bit? I appreciate it.”

I closed the door on her and looked at the doctor. I motioned to the chairs and made my way, sat heavily, and took a deep breath.

“What’s that machine?” I asked.

“It’s an EEG. It monitors your brainwaves, to help us diagnose coma. Do you know where you are?”

“I’m in the hospital, I called 911 due to high fever. Does the EEG network? Have internal memory? When did you last update software?”

“Software? I don’t know. The 80’s probably. Tell me, does your family have a history of epilepsy?”

“No.”

“Stroke? Migraine? Cancer? Mental disorders?”

“Migraine, on my mother’s side. Cancer for my grandfather and great uncle. Why?”

“You’ve been in an atypical coma for the last 4 days. We’re suspecting neurological involvement. We’ve scheduled you for an MRI the day after tomorrow. When was the last time you’ve been to a doctor?”

“I was 13, strep throat . MRI? What tests have you given me?”

“A MRI is a large magnet that lets us look into your head. It’s perfectly safe and doesn’t hurt. When you wouldn’t wake up we took some scans of your brain to try to figure out why.”

“Are your records stored electronically?”

“Yes, of course. Do you feel up to a few more questions?”

“No, thank you. I’ll be declining further treatment.”

“I really don’t think that’s wise. Your fever hasn’t even broken. Please, just lay down. “

“I’m sorry, Doctor. I’m a very private person and I have no desire to go through any additional tests. I’ll follow up as needed with my regular physician, ” I lied through my teeth and started towards the door, careful not to turn my back on Dr. Smith in case the paperwork showed. I had never been more happy that I wear oversized shirts when I relax at home.

“Oh, no need. You’re still very sick. Why don’t you lie down and I’ll contact your doctor. What was his name again?” He was cool and slick as arctic ice. I mentally cursed.

“Again, I don’t wish to talk about it with you right now, Doctor. Unless you intend to detain me I am checking out.” I had my hand on the door, and it opened. I walked out and pressed the button on the elevator. I had no idea where I was going.

“I can have the orderlies restrain you, if needed. You’re not fit to leave.”

“Are you certain that my lawyer would agree?” It was a bluff. “I’m leaving under my own power, or you’ll call your orderly and I’ll call a lawyer.”

I got in the elevator and hit ground.

Author's Note

I've never been a patient in a hospital, so I have no idea if this conversation could happen.