Waking up for the second time in one day is the worst choice I could have made. Especially when you’re riding in an ambulance.
I decide to just lay there with my eyes closed, listening to the wailing of the siren. Better than acknowledging the situation I’m in. It feels like I’d fall off the stretcher at any moment, despite being securely strapped to it. The smell dominates my nose. Antiseptics, cleaning products, medical supplies and rubber all mixed into one to create a toxic concoction that penetrates your nostrils.
Sickeningly familiar.
I decide to open my eyes a tad, and instantly regret it. A man with a surgical mask leaning over you is not the first thing you want to see.
“Shit,” I croak, my eyes suddenly wide open.
“It’s alright,” the paramedic says, “We’ve got you.”
They’ve definitely got me. Fully strapped into the fucking stretcher, they’ve pulled off my tie, unbuttoned my shirt and shoved electrodes under my bra. Fuck you Aleezeh, wearing a bandeau is more practical, at least here. Though it does feel a little odd being so exposed.
It is really disorientating laying backwards in a moving vehicle. Isn’t the hospital right next to the school? How long have I been lying here? When did they attach an ECG to me? All questions that are probably gonna remain unanswered. They’ve got me hooked up to what looks like a Lifepak. I guess the time I spent looking at the Wikipedia article for ambulances finally comes in handy. This siren is damn loud.
The wall of equipment and cupboards on my left is fairly intimidating, too.
I resort to looking up out of the skylight, barely tinted by the blue lights on top of the ambulance.
How the hell did I get myself into this damn situation?
“Alright then,” the paramedic says while pulling out a notebook. “What's your name?”
“Amaya. Amaya Hussain.”
“What day is it?”
“Tuesday”
“Good. What happened, then?”
“I fainted.” No fucking shit.
“Do you know what caused it?”
“No.”
“Are you in pain right now?”
This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
“No.” Apart from the mental anguish of going back to the fucking hospital, I’m fine.
“Have you got any allergies?”
“No.”
“Ever been admitted to an ICU?”
“Once.”
He’s writing something down as the ambulance itself slows down. About fucking time. I can feel it pulling into the bay before we completely halt. Strange, hearing all the traffic in such clarity next to me, now. The paramedic starts unbuckling all the straps before asking, “Are you comfortable with me removing the electrodes, or do you wish to?” Not wanting any more contact with medical professionals than required, I rip off the pads (slightly more painful than anticipated) and hand them over to the guy, who then separates them from the wires and shoves them into a medical waste bin. Great.
“You should get decent before leaving,” he states. No shit.
I button up my shirt, grab my tie and bag (thankful they remembered it), and walk out of the ambulance with the paramedic.
Smells like more shit out here.
We walk through the automated doors to enter A&E. Accident and Emergency. The words make me a little uneasy. Emergency. Accident.
This isn’t like before. I’ll be fine.
I timidly follow the paramedic through the twisting corridors, before we get to what looks like a holding room. I recognise this place.
“Have a seat over in that room, would you? They should bring you some water and biscuits later.” says a doctor, who must’ve approached me from behind, while pointing at a door in the corner.
As I walk in, I leave the door slightly open. The more I hear, the better.
“Amaya Hussain. Fourteen years old according to her school. Fainted after an encounter with her CAMHs worker.” says the paramedic. How did they get so much info so fast?
“Unconscious for nine minutes total, ambulance was called after two and arrived after three minutes.” He continues, “Carried into the ambulance with help from the on-site first aider. Heart-rate was scarily fast near the start but calmed down once she regained consciousness. ECG was used, consent was not required as she was unconscious, no resuscitative methods applied. No obvious head injury, answered questions accurately. Was in ICU once, CAMHs record said she’d undergone a severely traumatic experience, though she hadn’t been diagnosed with childhood PTSD.” Digging up my fucking past now? Fuckers. “Seemed normal upon waking up, no visible anxiety or fear. I’ll leave the rest to you.”
The receding steps tell me the paramedic is finally gone.
Irritating fuck.
I take a better look at the room they shoved me in. It’s kinda small, about one by two metres. A cupboard shoved flush against the wall is the only thing here other than the bed I’m sitting on. And then the wall. The wall is decorated with cartoon style images of animals.
Interesting choice of decals, but it is what it is. Now it’s waiting.
I pull out my phone from my blazer to find it dead. Exactly what I needed right now, compounded with the fact that there aren’t any unused outlets in the room.
The fluorescent lights above me seem to increase in brightness every second I’m here.
Great.
What time is it?
It was around 0930 when I got to safeguarding. I was unconscious for 9 minutes and 3 or so minutes passed in the ambulance.
God knows how long I’ve been in this room.