In the Hospital

Hospitals are supposed to be a place of healing for most people. The funny thing is, my luck would have this one be my tomb. I lay there on the operating room table looking at the ceiling. The bright light hanging there was directed at my mid-section where the doctors had cut me open to remove a stick that I had fallen on running around. Like most people do...I think the stick is out but that's not what I'm worried about. I woke up a different species then I fell asleep as! I'm a zebra now. Well, kind of. I am much smaller then a zebra is but I have the same equine body type and stripes all over me. I was living the nightmare of most people who get operations, the doctors had taken something that did not need to be taken: My humanity.

How had they managed to put me in a new body? And why did they not finish the operation? It's like they managed to get the stick out and then said, "Looks good to me~! I need some coffee." Then they tossed their tools into my opened belly and left. Fuckers. I moved my new hooves and tossed off the sheet that was partially over me. I still had sedatives in my system but it was imperative I escape this place before the psychos come back and tried to staple wings to me or something equally dumb. I reached to my stomach and started to pluck the different tools from my wound. Knife, scissor thingy, more scissor pinchy thingys, sponge....I think that's most of it. Thank god I didn't have to feel that. I toss the bloody tools to the floor and I look around for something to close myself up with. I see a stitch kit nearby and pick it up. How am I picking things up anyway? The stuff just seems to stick to my hoof at my command. Some sick, rich son-of-a-bitch must have spent a fortune to have this done to me.

I've read how to do stitches but it's hard to do with hooves. It took me a good 20 minutes to finish stitching my insides and another 10 to finish the outside and close the skin. But I know that some stitches are not enough. Also, why have the doctors not returned? It's been about 40 minutes since I woke up and who knows how long I was sleeping before that. I carefully rolled onto my side and ever-so-gently slid off the table to the floor. I slowly and painfully walked over the a rolling shelf and grabbed a stapler and pressed it against my wound before firing a staple into myself. Now I'll admit it wasn't pleasant but it could have been worse. I put in three staples and started to wrap gauze around my barrel tightly to make sure the wound could not open again and started to hobble out of the room.

As I snuck out of the O.R. and into the hall way I stopped by a window and looked at my reflection. I had a Mohawk mane thing and my eyes were green now. They had been brown before. How was this science possible? Or was it science? Could it have been some cult thing going on? I examined the stripes on my face more closely, I was really odd looking, if not a tad bit cute. Before I left I creeped into the pharmacy to get some medications in case I got an infection. One thing I noticed was that the entire place was deathly quiet. I even heard some of those heart monitor things flat-lining in several rooms, but when I looked there was no one there. It's as if everyone just decided they were fine and walked out. Everyone. Even my parents. We've always been close, them and I. They said they would be right here when I came out. Did they get tricked into thinking I was dead then left me here? "I'm not dead! I'm still here!" I screamed into the void of the now imposing hallways. "I don't want to be alone..." I slumped down against the wall and cried myself to sleep. Fortunately the sedatives that were still in my system did not allow me to dream. I wounder how I knew that...?

When I awoke again, I saw the clock said 9:28 AM. I had slept the entire night and into the morning and I think the drugs had worn off. I went to stand up, but I felt a burning, piercing agony from my wounded tummy. I whimpered on the floor for several minutes trying to figure out a way to alleviate the pain. I was unlike any pain I had felt up till that point. Why was I alone? What did I do wrong to be punished like this? I'm only a 14 year old girl, it's not like I ever really hurt someone. Why was I so small anyway? I was like up to the average person's mid thigh or there abouts. After I finished my little internal conversation, finally managed to get up. The pain was still present but I could manage it. I was still in the pharmacy and so I looked around until a a bottle caught my attention. I don't know what it is, but I just knew that this was the right thing to take for my pain. It's hard to put into words but I could sense these little white pills were the correct thing to take. ((I do not condone the unprofessional use of prescription drugs. Seek professional or adult aid in taking any and all medications.))

I took one of the pills and placed several other types of drugs and meds in plastic bags that were near the trash-can. I took the bags in my mouth and continued my slow trek out of the hospital.

I made it out of the hospital and into the warm Oklahoma sun. Where do I go now? Home? What if someone sees me? Would my parents recognize me? Why do I even care? They left me in this place with a bunch of psycho doctors and didn't even come back! And then everyone in the whole god damn city went on fucking vacation! I realized I had just said that all out-loud and glanced around to see if anyone heard. No one had. All the cars sat empty and no one walked the streets I guess I'll go the the mall or something. I started walking and it took me awhile to get there in my state. I've been feeling more pain since I got here and look down to see my gauze have bled through. I need to replace them quickly.

I had brought some gauze with me in my bag but I needed more to make the bandage tight and secure. I limped through the mall until I was completely exhausted, I needed to sleep again. I found a furniture store and crawled up onto a couch to sleep. I had to close my eyes to rest for a bit.

When I opened my eyes I found myself in an even more miserable state. I felt really cold but I'm sure my skin could boil water. I just laid there and cried, I had no idea what was wrong with me. Did I have a fever? I also was aware I was laying in blood. I need to take care of this cut now. I rolled onto my back and propped myself against the back so I could look at my tummy, it wasn't good. There was a lot of blood and I can feel something in the wound. I need to re-open the cut. Fucking hell. I whimpered and tears started to roll down my cheeks as I got up and started to search for sanitary tools for the process.

I found a store with exactly what I was looking for and grabbed a packaged set of first-aid tools and I also grabbed the gauze I needed and rubbing alcohol for being sanitary. I pick out a couple other items and went back to the furniture place. I picked out a new couch and got everything into place before I crawled up in agony and lay with my back against the couch. I swallowed and took up the razor I had collected and cut away the bloody gauze. I nearly threw-up when I smelled the injury. It was swollen and there was puss seeping out. "F-fuck..." I set the knife down and grabbed a cotton-ball and the alcohol and started to clean the outside of the cut. ((I do not condone self performed surgeries, if you need a surgery seek professional help and do NOT do anything yourself!)) I grunted in agony as the clear liquid stung my cut, when I was finished cleaning the outside I grabbed a pair of pliers and gripped the first staple and ripped it out. I screamed in pure pain and sobbed as I dropped the staple on the floor. Then I went for the next one and the next. I took a moment after the staples were out to catch my breath and I quickly cleaned the outside of the cut of the slowly oozing blood. Steeling myself again, I grabbed the knife and started to cut the stitches open, that wasn't as bad as the staples were.

Now came the fun part, I had to open the wound up. I grabbed a new set of pliers and firmly gripping the flap of skin, and let out a muffled scream as I opened the wound again. Inside I saw a festering sponge that I had missed before. I nearly passed out but managed to grab the disgusting bloody wad and flung it, and that pair of pliers, as far away as I could. I then started to clean the opening out and after another agonizing 30 minutes, resealed and restitched the now disinfected cavity. I put cream over the stitches to make sure it would not get infected and then wrapped myself in gauze once again before I gave in to fatigue and passed out.

As I woke up, I felt vastly better. I could breath again without too much pain and I didn't...well, my wound didn't stink of rot anymore. I got up and cleaned up my impromptu work place and disposed of the contaminated implements I had used and went to the fountain in-front of the mall and gave my self a sponge bath. I really needed it. On the bright side of things I was able to go on a big shopping spree because it had been two days and no one was around still. I need to start worrying about that soon. I snagged one of those large rolling suitcases and filled it with all the things I might need, not surprisingly comprised of mainly medical tools. And I just started walking, all-be-it slowly, south. I never really liked it up north anyway. What's Texas like? I guess I'll find out, and hopefully, I don't fall on any more sticks....

Author's Note

Alright, so do not try anything like this at home...I really hope all of you knew that already. I think of zebras as healers mainly so that's why she is able to sense what is the best thing to use for a given injury or sickness. This was one of the more interesting chapters for me to write though, I got to look up yummy pics of rotting flesh. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed! Should I write more chapters like this one, full of blood and guts, or no? Let me know in the comments!