The Voice Issue 7, Summer 2013 | Page 6

You by Lauren Akeroyd I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t go out. All I could do was sit or lay. I told you but you said it was nothing to worry about, that the treatment would kick in sooner or later. Three months, you said. So I waited. No improvement. You requested that I had a CT scan. So I did. You asked to see me at the hospital. I waited for you in an empty ward. You eventually came and told me I couldn’t leave. You didn’t understand how much I hated hospitals, how I hated the smell, the food, and the patients on the ward who were all old hags. You led me to the Respiratory Care Unit, and I was given a bed. You left 6 THE VOICE | Summer 2013 for a while and I was looked after by the nurses. They put a white clip on the end of my finger to check my oxygen saturation levels, which were fine. I couldn’t see why you wanted to keep me trapped in here. A student doctor came to put a cannula in my arm, by your request. I knew the routine by now; she put a tourniquet around the top of my arm, and tapped the opposite side of my elbow searching for the artery. She cleaned the skin with some alcohol-smelling liquid and punctur ????????????)???????????????????????????????)????????????????%????e??????)???????????????????????%?e????)???????)9?????????????????????????????)???????????????$????????????)?????=????????????????????????)???????????????????????????)??????????????????????????)????????????e?????????????????)???????????????????????????)??????????e??????'?e????????????)$??????e???????????)$??????????????$????????)???????????????????????)?????????????????????e???)?????????$???????????????????)???????????????????????$??????e?)????????????????????'?e??????)?????????????????????e??????)??????????????)e???????????????????1?????e?????)?????????????????????????????)????????Z?((0