It wasn’t the next morning. It was this morning. The morning before Dr. B and his induced coma suggestion was made.
The black nurse was my nurse, but…
She also knew it was this morning. She knew we jumped back in time, and she was telling another nurse what was going to happen. “She’s going to send a racist email, that will say as a daughter of Cane, I am less than her, a daughter of Able, and then she will have diareah and we will change her, and she will ejaculate all over you, and then we will call…”
“How do you know all this?”, the other nurse interrupted.
“Because it all happened yesterday, no I mean today, but we all went back in time, because she prayed to do the day over again.”
“What are you talking about?” The other nurse asked.
“I’m telling you, we all stepped back in time. You don’t remember because yesterday, I mean today didn’t happen yet, but it will. You’ll see.” She replied.
Her friend shook her head and walked away.
I was gleeful. ‘See they don’t even believe you. They don’t know about Dr. B in a box, or his idea of an induced coma. They don’t know I’m a horrible person, or a man, or a racist.’ I was very gleeful and not feeling very kind about it either.
I couldn’t say it out loud because I had multiple tubes in my mouth and nose, but I could gloat inside, and I did.
The time for the email came and went, but no email did.
The nurses stood around in a group teasing my nurse. “I told you, yesterday wasn’t today.” One said.
“How could we all go back in time?” Another asked.
“And if we did, why would you be the only one who knew about it.” Asked another.
My nurse looked dejected. Gone was the nurse who hoped for justice. She was replaced by a nurse who knew she wasn’t getting justice.
The time for the diareah came, but I didn’t have diareah. Nobody had to clean me up, and I didn’t ejaculate on anybody.
The time for Dr. B came, but Dr. B didn’t come, in his little box.
My nurse was surrounded. “Little doctors in boxes.” taunted one.
“None of it happened. We didn’t go back today.”, mocked another.
“Time travel isn’t real.” Teased a third.
And I began losing my gloat and started feeling compassion for her. Here was nurse who had been sent racist emails that didn’t exist anymore, but to her, they existed, and she still felt the pain.
She told everybody about the racist emails, the diareah, the ejaculation, and Dr. B, and she wasn’t believed, even worse she was taunted.
She still felt the pain of what I had done to her, but she didn’t have anybody to comfort her, commiserate with her, or even believe her. Instead she was the joke of the ICU, and it was all my fault.
Only she and I knew what happened, but I couldn’t talk because of all the tubes and wires in my nose and mouth.
She got a mop and yellow bucked and dejectedly washed the floor in silence. I felt so bad for her. She’d been hurt, but she didn’t get justice. She just got hurt more.
I considered doing something horrible to her, maybe just one song or email, but I didn’t want to be put into an indefinite medical coma. I didn’t want to stay here forever, at the mercy of Frank and the nurses. I wanted to get better and go home, but I couldn’t do that if I was in a coma. Could I?
How could I help this nurse, and not hurt myself?
When the nurse was finished mopping, she took my bed over to the cafeteria. All the nurses, sat around a table, but I lay beside my nurse. She explained I was too sick to be left alone, so she was taking me with her. The other nurses explained that their patients could be left alone for lunch time, and besides, they were just over there where they could see them anyway.
After lunch, she pushed my bed up against the counter that food could be ordered from. The kitchen was empty now, and all the dishes cleaned up. There was only a water station with styrofoam cups hanging beside it. The other nurses had all gone back to their patients, but my nurse, was alone at the water station.
She was treating me well, even though she wanted justice.
While my nurse was looking the other way, a man standing behind me, handed me a piece of paper, and told me to give it to the nurse. I neither saw the man nor read the paper. I just lifted my hand over my head, grabbed the paper from the counter and handed it to the nurse when she turned to look at me.
She looked at it, and got very very angry. “See a racist email.”, and then she took a styrofoam cup filled it with water, and dropped it into the garbage can below the watering station. It made a huge noice, and many people looked up. She took another cup, filled it with water, and dropped it into the garbage can. It too made a loud noise. I knew this was a signal that she was in trouble, and I dreaded her taking the third cup.
She took a third cup, filled it with water, and dropped it into the garbage can, making a third loud noise.
The room filled with people asking what was wrong, and she passed them the racist note. “See. See. She is racist. It’s starting all over again.” she turned to me and continued “I knew you couldn’t keep your racist ideas to yourself.”
Why? Why did I hand her that note? How could I tell her I just handed it to her. I didn’t even read it. I can’t control what that other guy is going to do? I don’t even know who handed me the note. Was it Frank? Did I have split personalities? Was it that other personality, the one who is racist? How could I change things?
Dr. B appeared before us and said “We have to put her in a medically induced coma, indefinitely”, a syringe appeared, and I was plunged into a nightmare.
I didn’t know if I was male or female, time didn’t exist, and there was noway out.