Free Fall
“Mrs. M., the doctor is here to see you.”
I looked up to see a nurse peering sympathetically at me.
“Huh?” I thought. “But I'm the doctor. Where am I?”
I looked around. I was on a single mattress on the floor in an otherwise empty green room. “A quiet room?!” I thought. I didn't feel quiet. Why couldn't I be still? What's wrong with my legs? I sat up on the mattress and kept shaking my feet. A doctor was crouched down on a stool with a nurse standing beside him.
“Umm, Mrs. M.,” she said, making a “cross your heart” gesture of modesty for me to cover my breasts.
What the heck? I had a robe with nothing to tie it together? What's that about?
“Right, right.” I closed my shirt but my feet wouldn't be still.
“Mrs. M., do you know where you are?” the doctor asked.
“Uh-oh,” I thought. It's a Mini-Mental Status! Where was I? I was in a hospital, yes, but not my hospital. This wasn't one of our doctors! Who were these people?
“Mrs. M.,” the nurse said again, making the little motion for me to cover my breasts. I had already forgotten.
“Well, let me see,” I said. I kept wriggling and looking around. “I'm not really sure where I am.”
“What do you remember?” the doctor asked.
“I remember the nausea. I hate nausea.” I started to cry.
“How long did you have nausea?” the doctor asked …
This 100-word excerpt has been provided in the absence of an abstract.
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