Post by Madman on Feb 21, 2013 15:53:21 GMT -5
5 years ago today.
The wound still bled. Even though it had been over an hour, the shirt he had tied around the forearm was soaked through and not helping anything. Joe sighed; this needed to be looked at. After long consideration he figured it would be better to end up with a bill he couldn't pay than with an arm he couldn't use. The local hospital was only a few blocks away from where he had parked. He cursed the big “E” on his dashboard showing a gas tank full of nothing. He eased himself out of the seat, moving as carefully as possible. As if on cue, a crash of thunder signaled the beginning of a downpour just as he got out of the car.
Joe reached Mercy General and made his way to the emergency room sign. His soaking attire dropping puddles with every step. The staff threw him a volley of dirty looks. As Joe approached the counter he took a quick survey of the waiting room prior addressing the lady at the counter. She was busy filling out paperwork with her ear on a phone receiver facing away from him. Joe gave her a moment, catching bits of her conversation. “OK well how soon can that be?” “ OK well if it’s itching, that’s probably a bad sign, he’ll need to see his local family doctor. Uh-huh. Yeah. OK. Yes. No, no, not that. Mm-hmm.“ After a few minutes Joe decided he should at least let it be known he was there. “Uh, excuse me.” The woman grabbed a clipboard from somewhere out of his view and handed it to Joe, still not facing him. Joe wondered if it was due to her being busy or not willing to be bothered with him.
A myriad of questions that Joe had no answer to were all filled out and returned to the lady at the counter. Joe had stood at the counter the entire time and the lady was still on the same phone call. He took a seat next to an elderly man with a bandaged head who was staring off into space. A crew of two paramedics ran into the doors yelling a lot of jargon he didn't understand. The unconscious blood-covered fellow on the stretcher they were hauling however provided a perfect sense of what was happening. Joe slumped down into his chair his forearm was still burning and a steady drip of blood mixed with rainwater was creating a pool of rosy colored viscosity that began unsettling the people around him. He thought back to the events that had occurred nearly two hours prior.
Gritty Smitty had been the guy’s name. Joe had met him in a train yard behind an abandoned home. A duo of “representatives” from the Hobo Brawl movies was there as well. They presented two twenty dollar bills and urged the two to fight. Joe had been the expert here and had taken the initiative by laying into the other guy with a flurry of strikes. Overall he had been on top of things until Smitty got his hands on an old broken rusty muffler. He had swung wild, had Joe not put his arm up to defend he’d probably be minus an eye. A jagged edge had cleaved into his arm, inspiring a furious retaliation and eventually giving him the winnings.
That all seemed moot now as Joe twisted his arm to get a better look at the gash. He was met with a grisly crimson smile formed by the flaps of separated skin. After what seemed like at least another hour of waiting, Joe approached the counter again. The woman was still on the phone. “Yeah, if it doesn't smell that way don’t mess with it.” Joe cleared his throat, trying to get her attention. “No, don’t worry about that, just make sure he’s keeping regular with it.” Joe sucked in a breath of pure frustration. He barged in “Excuse me ma’am.” The woman looked at him finally and nearly dropped the receiver. “Sir, you’ll need to fill this out.” She handed him another clipboard. “But I just did, I filled it out an hour ago, it’s right there next to you.” She looked down. “Oh, in that case there’s a lot that still needs to be filled out.” She pointed to the fields that Joe had left blank. “I need an address, a phone number, and most importantly your insurance and claim member number.” Joe hesitated for a moment, “Well, I don’t exactly have those things.” The woman rolled her eyes, she address the other person on the phone “Hold on for a moment. Sir, we need these things to ensure medical billing is properly handled.”
Joe bit back an outburst. He had been having them a lot lately. Uncontrollable fits of rage that inspired a string of insults and nearly comical ramblings. It almost turned him into another person, someone less restrained, less willing to hold his tongue. Joe wasn't about to let the situation get the better of him, not here. He didn't need to get beaten down with nightsticks and electrocuted by rent-a-cop security guards, especially not in his current state. “Well, miss, I don’t have those things, I've got a pretty serious injury here and I think I need help.” He replied, raising his arm and showing her the wound. “Sir, that’s not even life threatening, we have people here who have REAL emergencies. People we need to help that are in true life or death situations. People who can also pay for their treatment. So if you don’t mind, have a seat and a doctor will see you when they are available.” At hearing the words ‘not’ and ‘life threatening’ being used together, Joe realized that was all he needed to hear. He left Mercy General about as satisfied as he could have possibly been, making his way back to his car.
On his way back, Joe spotted a pharmacy. He would get this taken care of himself. The clerk was a little jarred to see him but she gave him a polite smile anyway. He could almost see the thought processes in her mind making the decision against inquiring into the details of what exactly Joe had been up to. She merely counted the items and gave him his total. “OK, a bottle of aspirin, two rolls of gauze, some hydrogen peroxide, rubbing alcohol, orange juice, and some jelly beans. That’ll be twenty five fifty seven, Hun.” Joe reached into his pocket and grudgingly handed the clerk two damp twenty dollar bills. The ones he had just fought so hard to get. As he received his change, he let out a sigh that inspired a sympathetic look from the cashier. She was old enough to be his mother, but that was the only thing she had in common. He nodded in gratitude and took his spoils back to his car.
By now thunder was crashing more frequently and the rain battered the earth like a record setting drummer. Joe pushed back the driver’s seat and got to work treating himself. He read the instructions of the pill bottle. “Take two every four hours until pain…” He popped the cap off and swallowed five, washing it down with a generous swig of orange juice. The hydrogen peroxide liberally poured forth from the bottle, cascading down his arm and filling his car with its distinctive scent. The Madman winced in pain as the substance bubbled and hissed, producing a salmon colored froth on his arm. He sucked air in between his teeth and reached back into the bag, the next task was to unfurl the gauze to cover the wound. Joe took a break now however, to pop open the box of jelly beans. He tipped the box into his mouth and let a myriad of sugary dollops take him away from this place and this time. Somewhere better off. He retreated back into that place as he lay back in his seat and watched the rain…