The April Records
April 10th, [XXXX]
Fourteenth entry. I spend less time with Ms. [XXXXX] every day. I can’t bring myself to go in that room if I can help it. It just reminds me of my failures. I’ve been busying myself helping everywhere else I could, ensuring that everybody gets the help they need.
Mr. Davis, Mr. Gonzalez, Ms. [XXXXX]. I’ve dealt with loss before. I’ve been trained to deal with it. But it never seems to get easier.
The father caught up with me today, wanting to chat. He was never this talkative, and usually when he visited, he stayed only in her room. I invited him into my office and had him sit down. He said he wanted to thank me for keeping an eye on her and doing my best for her. I didn’t know how much I had really done, but I accepted his thanks.
He seemed tired. Defeated. We both knew there wasn’t much chance of her getting better, but neither of us really wanted to admit it.
It wouldn’t be long now before [XXXXXXXX] would be transferred. I offered him a drink. He accepted it and we decided to drink in silence.
When I sleep now, I see it. The storm. The place is different, but the storm is the same. I am afraid. I feel the world calling to me. Beckoning me closer, wishing me to stay with it.
I can't give up on this world though, not until she is okay. The storm can wait.
April 25th, [XXXX]
Final entry. Today was the last day Ms. [XXXXX] was to stay in my treatment. At the end of the day, I had made my rounds to all the other patients and stopped to sit for a moment with the father. When he looked up at me, he gave me a nod in acknowledgement and went back to looking at his daughter. I offered him coffee as usual, and this time he took it.
Out of nowhere, her heart rate spiked. I rushed to call in some of the other doctors, but I realized that most of everyone was gone. She started convulsing, just like she had before, but this time it was more violent. I motioned quickly to the father to help me hold her down, as I tried to administer sedative.
Out of nowhere, she stopped and mouthed a single word. Mom. Her heart rate flat-lined. The father backed away, his eyes widened in terror. I grabbed the resuscitators, hoping I could shock her before it was too late.
Administering the resuscitation was to no avail. Nothing seemed to be working. Eventually I backed away too. I glanced at my watch and noted the time. I had failed again. I could tell the father was looking at me, hoping for anything I could do. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, couldn’t even bring myself to mark the time of death. I had failed again.
With a gasp, Ms. [XXXXX] woke up. The father rushed to her side and held her hand as I looked on with shock. Inexplicably, she was alive.
The father hugged her and held her closely, as she and I made eye contact for the first time. She was surprisingly lucid, for someone who had just woken up from a coma, as our eyes met for a brief second. I nodded briefly. She will never know who I was, but I feel like I know her so well.
Ms. [XXXXX] was discharged shortly after and I cleared her to go home. Her vitals appeared relatively stable. She will proceed to psych eval in a few weeks. The hospital has already found a suitable psychologist for the psychotherapy. I pray to whatever God will here that what I found that chilly day in March was not hers.
I decided not to bother them too much afterward, it wasn’t my place. I was just glad she was alright.
The dreams have worsened. Every night the storm crackles. It isn't long now before it will take me. I do not worry. She is alright. I have a feeling, I will be too. This was my purpose.
Unsurprisingly though, I have been asked to clean out my desk. My bosses read the last couple of transcripts, and determined I was unfit for this hospital based on my behavior. It seems sudden that I have been removed, but I don't mind.
These records will remain at the hospital until further notice.