Holding Their Own: A Story of Survival Read Online Free PDF Page A

serious.”
     
    As Bishop walked to the front entrance, he noticed nurses, orderlies, candy stripers, and other staff leaving the facility, carrying their personal effects and looking either bewildered or disgusted. When he turned the corner heading to the front doors, a large crowd blocked his way. Many of the people were simply curious what all the fuss was about. There were at least three television news teams, complete with vans pointing satellite dishes at the sky. The crews seemed excited, filming the growing crowd of spectators. Several hospital security guards were trying to keep anyone from entering the building, and this was causing tensions to rise quickly. Already there were a few heated arguments in process.
    Working his way through the crowd, Bishop overheard a man shouting at one of the guards, “What do you mean I can’t go in? I was told to get my wife out of this place, and now you won’t let me go in? How am I supposed to get her out?” Several others were echoing similar protests. Bishop realized there was no way he was going to get in through the front door, so he reversed course and headed along the side of the hospital. As he strode along, trying to figure out what to do, a side emergency exit door opened. Two men in scrubs peered outside, and then began to pass out boxes. Bishop waved as he walked toward them, but they paid no attention to him. He entered the door between them.
    A little disoriented, he made his way to the main lobby and didn ’t even notice the absence of the volunteers who normally manned the information desk. He rode to the third floor, exited the elevators, and proceeded to room 323. As he entered the room, the stench almost overwhelmed him. Mrs. Rita Peterson, his mother-in-law, shared a room with two other patients. Clearly one or more of them had soiled themselves and hadn’t been cleaned. He ignored the overwhelming odor and proceeded to the last bed where Rita was lying.
    Rita’s eyes were open, and she was moaning . He had seen her awake only briefly in the last month and had not heard her make any noise at all. She was trying to move, and obviously something was wrong. He was relieved that the smell did not seem to be emanating from her, but then realized she was in agony. Her thin brows were clenched, and she was grinding her teeth at the same time as trying to yell out. Her weakened body was shaking badly. Bishop moved to her side quickly and took her hand, repeatedly asking, “Rita, Rita, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Tell me what’s wrong.”
    Rita’s eyes cleared for a moment and she whispered , “THE PAIN. Oh Lord, it hurts so bad.” Bishop hurried to the foot of the bed and located Rita’s clipboard. He had spent enough time at her bedside in the last few months to know a little about how the nurses charted. He flipped a few pages and realized no one had made any entries in the record all day. Rita was in pain because she had not been given her medications. He looked up to see that her IV drip was almost empty as well. She and all of the other patients in the room seemed to have been ignored by the hospital staff.
    Bishop ru shed out of the room toward the nurse’s station. He was outraged and intended to protest the treatment of his mother-in-law. As he approached the station, he noticed another patient trying to get out of his room and struggling. “Help me…someone please help me…I am not well,” the older man was saying. Bishop heard crying and another voice calling, “Nurse…please come here,” as he stepped down the hall.
    Bishop knew before he got there that the station was deserted . He could hear monitors beeping and small alarms going off before even turning the last corner. Sure enough, no one was around. He noticed a cart with locks on the drawers and a set of keys lying close by. Each drawer contained several small paper cups full of pills with a room number and patient name written on them. He knew this was the med cart, and