I took a little break from Fireside, but please check it out here! In the meantime, please enjoy this short story, This isn’t home.
A small, ancient TV collected dust in the upper corner of the hospital room. The faint muttering of voices dripped from its speaker holes, all clogged with dust. A man coughed as he sat watching the television. An oscillating fan, which creaked and groaned with every turn, caused the fuzz on the man’s blanket to vibrate occasionally. He attempted to sit up straighter in bed but he winced and slumped back. A nurse rapped on the hospital room door and stepped inside. She gave the man a terse smile, “good afternoon, Mr. Stevens.”
“What do you want?” he replied. The nurse itched at her eyebrow.
“Do you recognize me?” the nurse asked. The man turned his attention from the TV and looked at her. His mouth tightened and then opened, but no words left his mouth.
At last he said, “don’t think so.” The nurse sighed and walked closer to his bed. She sat in the chair which was situated in an oblique, a good angle for watching the TV, but not the person in the bed. She turned the chair to better look at the man in the bed.
“I have bad news,” the nurse blurted out.
The man, who had a fine gossamer of bruised veins on both arms, stared dumbly at her. His legs were rigidly held with casts. There was a deep tiredness in his eyes.
“Well, ok,” the man replied.
“It’s about your fall, we are looking at… above the knees. The infection is serious, likely fatal if we don’t perform surgery. Do you understand the risks that would come with something like that?”
“You’re going to amputate my legs?” the man asked.
“I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you, but since there are no other family or relations listed on your documents—”
“But I do, I have a wife!” the man insisted.
The nurse sighed again, heavier this time, “Mr. Stevens, we checked, your wife passed away three years ago. Despite our repeated attempts to contact your adult children, none have responded. I know this is all a lot to process. But we are optimistic about potential outcomes.”
“Well, I’m not!” The man was growing red in the face.
The nurse plucked a hair from her eyebrow and inspected it in front of her. She shook her head back and forth before she seemed to settle on something.
“We are moving ahead with the operation, Mr. Stevens. I know you are too diminished to make that choice for yourself anymore. Our team has come to the same conclusion. This is the best chance to continue your life. We will not be held liable for your death.”
“But—-without a life to live,” the man protested weakly.
The woman abruptly stood up, “try to get some rest, Mr. Stevens. You’ve got a big day ahead of you.” She turned on her heel and exited the room without giving the man another look. Except, right before she closed the door, she made eye contact with him for just a moment. And that moment was all it took. She stole a look behind her and nodded to herself. She knew that everyone else would be in a different section of the hospital taking their lunch. The nurse walked back over to the man, and took his hand in hers. He smiled at her and with all the remaining strength he had, sat up enough so that she could grab the pillow behind him.
“Are you sure?” the nurse asked.
The man nodded, grateful tears filling his eyes.
The nurse knew that there were no cameras in this room. She continued to hold his hand until it slipped from hers; as she comforted the man in the only way that she knew how. And the man breathed his last, according to her report, at 12:08 PM, Standard, October 22nd, 2026. His body was cremated later that same day.
Thank you for reading, This isn’t home. I hope you enjoyed it. If you liked it, please check out my most recent published book below.
If you have not checked out my published books, I would be honored if you did. Click here to view my published books on Amazon, where you can grab a copy of your own! My recently published book is Remnants of Power. You can preview the cover below.
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