Unexplainably Itchy
The nurse that just drew your blood came back in, white as a sheet. She's holding a clipboard that is shaking in her pale hands. You clearly have a concern, but she's standing at the farthest part of the room. It was routine before this. She was even a bit snarky about taking blood. She'd claimed to be a pro. But now, she's typing as fast as she can with her fingers trembling, eying you suspiciously all the while. You look down at your feet, the shame heating up your face. You had started to ask if you did something wrong or if everything was okay when she'd first come back in, but her reaction when you opened your mouth to speak shut you up instantaneously.
"Doctor will be in shortly," she mutters quickly before racing out of the room.
You are now alone. The itching hasn't stopped. You look down your arms and legs at the various patches of skin that have been scraped thin by your fingernails. A friend had suggested that this was not healthy and you needed to see a doctor, but now, it seems like you should've stayed home and just put on mittens to keep from scratching rather than come in. People on pamphlets on the wall beside you daunt you with their devious smiles. Do you have constipation? Are you feeling like your emotions are uncontrollable? Have you been suffering from forgetfulness? Your eyes scan the pamphlets looking for one that has your symptoms. No itching, no incontinence, no mysterious sensations running up and down your back only at night. You lay back on the thin paper of the hospital chair and wait.
The door opens and you sit up to see a very disturbed doctor, looking at your charts. You smile at her, but she ignores you. She looks at your charts and asks some routine questions but never gets close to you. After a few formalities and niceties, you speak up.
"What's wrong with my blood?"
"Huh?"
"That nurse. She was acting all weird after she took my blood."
"Oh, we had a burn patient get wheeled down a couple of minutes after she did the blood work. Third-degree burns. Terribly sad."
"So, what's wrong with me?"
"It's just a parasite. I'm ordering you these anti-parasitic drugs, and I'd like to see you back in a few weeks."
"Parasite? What parasite? How did I get a parasite?"
"I have no idea."
"Well, what parasite is it?"
"It's called the vampire worm. It burrows in your skin and travels at night. It's not as bad as it sounds, I assure you. Just take this drug and you'll be feeling better."
"Oh, well, thank you."
She sets the prescription on the chair with your clothes, smiles briefly, then steps out. All the pain and anguish you've been feeling has been cured in a matter of minutes. You redress, grab the prescription, and walk out. You pass a break room where a couple of nurses are calming down the nurse that did your blood. You catch a few snatches of what the's said but her sobbing makes her voice thick and you can barely make out any words. You look at the prescription again as you leave. Though you are still itchy, something just doesn't feel right about what the doctor said, well hadn't said. You wave to the lady at the front desk who validated your parking and walk out into the garage.
You check to see if you have a signal since you forgot to tell your mom that you actually came. You start to, see google's icon, and instinctively click on it. Your fingers anxiously type "vampire worm" and you take a deep breath. Something had really shaken that nurse, and you knew that whatever it was would probably ruin your life. But, after a few seconds of mental preparation, you click the search button. A bevy of results come up, but as you search, you notice a lack of your symptoms. You then try to search for the medicine but only a bunch of Russian results come up. Before you can put them into a search engine, a gruff person bumps into you and interrupts you.
You put your phone away and go to your car. You look at the prescription again, biting your lip, and start your car. You have no idea where to go next, but you know that things are not adding up.
Dr Mickelson.
The nurse that just drew Adam’s blood came back in, white as a sheet. It was at that point that Adam knew something was off. Previously, about 10 minutes ago, Michael had been all jolly because this was going to be his last blood draw before his ten hour shift ended. It now appeared as if Michael’s excess weight had suddenly doubled. He walked a lot slower and was no longer whistling to the radio. Adam also noticed that Michael was making sure to keep his distance this time. Normally, that would have been exactly what Adam wanted since this meant he no longer had to worry about being touched by Michael’s rather large gut, but Adam could not ignore the feeling that something was very wrong.
“Is everything alright Michael?”
“Oh, yes it just seems that I am going to have to stay a bit later than I thought.”
“Why? Did another phlebotomist not show up for work?”
“No, no not that. Susan just got here. It’s.. It’s just that one of our physicians wants to come and take a look at you. So that means you will have to stay a bit longer too. Is that alright with you? Mr Smith?”
“Yes, I guess. It is my weekend, so an extra few minutes won’t be an issue. Did you find something in my blood? Is that why the doctor wants to see me?” Said Adam. He was getting really nervous. It was certainly a bad sign that he was suddenly of interest to one of the hospital’s doctors. What would the nurse have seen in his blood test that required a doctor to come and looked at it? Also, what kind of blood test happened so fast. Adam had previously that the blood was tested only after a patient left. Maybe it depended on the test being done. Michael had after all taken 7 vials of blood.
“No,” Michael said after some time. “It’s just that..Just that.. Well,.. We did find something odd in your blood. Something that is in the area of Dr. Mickelson’s expertise, but I honestly don’t know enough about it. I don’t think that it is a risk to you.” With that he exited the room.
Adam was alone in the room for only a few seconds before he realized that he could faintly hear Michael talking with someone else on the other side of the door. Acting quickly, he got up from his chair and walked over to the door to listen, making sure to turn the radio off as he passed to ensure he could hear.
“I don’t think you should have told him anything Michael. What if he tries to leave before they get done here? Said a high female voice that Adam did not recognize.
“Come on Susan, I had to say something, what would you have said?
“Nothing, honestly. It would have been better to keep him in the dark.” Said the high voice, which Adam now knew belonged to Susan. The phlebotomist that was supposed to relieve Michael from his shift.
“Guys, all the other patients have left.” Said another female voice. Adam recognized this voice as the one belonging to the receptionist from the waiting room.
“Good, now we just wait for Mickelson and the security team.” Said Michael.
“Michael, did you turn the radio off when you left the room?”
With that Adam knew his time was up. Moving away from the door, he quickly gathered his stuff in his backpack. Mentally picturing his pathway out, Adam readied himself by the door. He had parked only a few spaces away from the entrance. After taking a deep breath to prepare himself, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. Or at least he tried to. He could only open the door an inch or so because Susan, Michael, and the receptionist were all on the other side pushing to keep the door closed.
“Let me out!” yelled Adam knowing that whatever would happen if he stayed, he probably would not like it. “Let me out or I am calling the police!” No matter what position Adam was in, or how much he pushed, he could not get out. Eventually, Adam heard rapid footsteps come down the hall. With one final push, the door gave way and Adam went sprawling onto the hard hallway floor. The three that had been holding the door must have been behind him because there were three new people between him and the waiting room. The lady in the middle wearing the white coat must have been Dr. Mickelson because the ones on either side of her were really large men wearing security uniforms. However, Adams' attention was focused on what Dr. Mickelson had in her hands. A white syringe with a ridiculously long needle. Adam bolted for the exit.
“Gag him and put him in a high-hold.” Said Mickelson. The security team easily snatched Adam as he tried to run by them. Adam quickly had his arms bent and held high to his sides. No matter what Adam tried he could not use his arms, so instead he started trying to kick at Dr. Mickelson, trying to break the syringe.
“HELP!!!” Screamed Adam. “HELP!!”
“Lock his legs, and gag him already.” Said Mickelson, irritated by all the noise that Adam was making. The security team immediately gagged Adam, and used their own legs to hold Adam’s down. This required them to get into a seated position with all three of their backs against the hallway wall.
After Adam was immobilized, Dr. Mickelson got down and used the syringe on Adam’s inner thigh. For all the internal screaming that Adam had, he could only gag on the gray cloth in his mouth as everything went dark.