Could the day get any worse? That was what Professor Stone had been mourning about.
The word with the police, the talk with the Taxi Driver, and the report from the doctor. Not a single one of them gave him a shred of hope or good news. Of course, reality sucks but can’t a friend hear one good thing within this big mess? Not even just a tiny drop of luck or something? Huh?
Sigh. Prof. Stone felt like this was the first time he felt this lost or bothered. Maybe because, he prefer not to make it a habit to see familiar faces or friends end up in such a state – be it a hospital bed or coroner’s table. Touch wood, he hoped it didn’t come to the latter.
He believed taking this step by step would help him regain his stride. So the first thing he wanted to do was share the pain and burden with his protege...
“.........Dammit Kim, where did you run off to now? At a time like this!?”
The patient’s room was empty. Well except for Keekee, she’s not going anywhere anytime soon. The room could easily be searched in a single glance, it wasn’t that big. But Prof. Stone felt obliged to whip back some curtains and closet drawers to find where the young master was hiding.
It was unlikely Martial Kim would be shying away from society like a scared puppy...but then again, he was more or less at his limit when he nearly hurt Keekee by pulling on her breathing tube. No doubt he wasn’t going to live this down.
“....Please Kim, don’t tell me you got yourself locked in the basement—OOF!”
“AAGH! MY FOOT!”
“Your foot? What about my back!?”
A nurse walked backwards into the patient’s room. It wasn’t some fancy trend or some special nursing procedure. It was mostly given how petite she was while towing this large and heavy mobile computer station, similar to the one the doctor was dragging about while doing his work. These C.O.W.s were essentially portable office desks. Even had a series of specialized draws carrying all sorts of drugs and medications in bottles or packages.
No doubt the inventory, if not the machine itself, weighed a pretty mass.
This gave the impression of a mouse towing an elephant by the drunk to walk across the road.
“Uh. Excuse me,” The petite nurse squeaked while flexing her small – and half crushed – foot “Are you a relative of the patient? If yes, we’ve been trying to contact you for a while.”
“Er uh. No. I-I am a friend.”
“Her boyfriend?...I thought he had hair.”
“..........The friend of the patient’s boyfriend...I...Ahem.”
The petite nurse gave a small shrug, before she became a whirlwind at her desk
Was she a martial arts expert like Martial Kim? No, not really. She couldn’t fly with inner energy neither could she swing an I.V. stand with the 8 Diagram Pole Technique.
Rather, it was clear the way her hand moved to switch old and new I.V. bags, adjusting to the right flow with zero air bubble in the line, and injecting medication across various ports sticking out of the patient’s body – would make most people whistle with admiration.
It was only when she pulled on paper towels to dry her hands – did Prof. Stone realized she was finished.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Um. Miss. About what you said. You called for the patient’s relatives right?”
“Technically the hospital clerk did, but again we’ve been trying to contact them for hours.”
“No response?”
“All voice mail...Then again, the patient’s contact information hasn’t been update in years, so not sure if they changed their phone. Do you know anything about that?”
Prof. Stone suddenly felt his heart sink into his stomach as he shook his head.. “Did you check on the patient’s phone? Should have came with her after the accident?”
“Phone?”
“... Is the phone missing?”
The petite nurse took a moment to stop what she was doing, so she can release her brain power to spare a minute to think of an answer, “Oh there was a phone, but it’s with her belongings.”
The forensic chemist went ah and made his way for the door, “Then I’ll go get—”
“Sorry. It’s kept under security.”
“Wh-whatever for?”
“The patient was in an accident, which is under investigation by the police. Under those circumstances we store all of the items on the patient’s person into a hospital bag and keep it under lock and key within the security’s office. Only the police can have access to it.”
“.....Oh riiiiight.”
Prof. Stone knew that – rather, he just remembered it.
After everything that’s happened in a single night, he should be lucky he still knew how to drive a car, let alone recite police procedure. He contemplated showing his forensic ID to get some perks...but no, he’s already abused his authority earlier with the Motor Patrolman. And if he did dip his hands into this case, then by the same regulations he can’t visit Keekee as a ‘friend’ any more. So he opted to keep his work ID asleep in his breast pocket.
“By the way, miss nurse. How is my friend doing?”
“From the time she arrived to the hospital, under went surgery, to now, she has yet to show any response to stimulus. No eye response, no verbal response, no movement, and barely any reaction to pupils. The doctor believe she may have suffered some brain stem injury during the accident. In terms of a Glasgow Coma Scale, she’s a 3.”
Oooof. Don’t be mistaken, this isn’t ranked third in an Olympic game. There was no Bronze to be won.
The Glasgow Coma scale measures the level of alertness in people, usually to check for post-crash, head trauma, or even a concussion status.
For instance: if you’re reading this, thinking about what to eat, playing video games on your phone, AND yelling at someone through a headset at the same time—
—Congratulations you’re a healthy 15, normal!
So the second Prof. Stone heard Keekee’s coma score, he could only rub the top of his head in anguish.
“Ooof... I take it, you removed her clothes. Are they with her phone as well?”
“That is correct...Now. If you really need to access her items, you may have to speak to the police or put in a paper form. I don’t know how that line of process continues from there. Sorry, I can’t help you more.”
“No no, this is more than enough...Actually. There is one thing you can help me with?”
“How so?”
“Keekee’s boyfriend...yes, the one with hair. Ahem. Have you seen him around? Do you know where he went? The bathroom?”
“No. Backdoor.”
“...Nurse, did I fumble my words?”
“Did I?”
Martial Kim, where are you!?
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