Writing Prompt Week: Day Three

Hello and welcome to the third day of writing prompt week! And I'm sure it's going to be an exciting one! Yesterday I was feeling a little floopy, but now I feel as right as rain so this is sure to be an exciting adventure for you and for me.

I think we all know the rules by now. (Get the prompt, follow the directions, no editing.)

Let's activate the RANDOMATOR!

115! Let's see what it says.

"Here is a 90 second drill: In ninety seconds make a list of objects that you would find in a hospital. When the ninety seconds are up, use all the objects you listed in a story, except the story can not take place in or near a hospital."


Sounds challenging! I bet I can make a list of things in a hospital easily though.

Hospital bed.

syringe

waiting room.

blood pressure thingy

nurse

....Okay. That is the smallest list I've ever seen... I have to go with it though. Here I go!


It had been an accident. No one had expected it to happen. It was something that the people thought would never happen. This injured bullfighter was a professional, and had never once had a scar.

Rodger Dye lay face up on the freshly trodden dirt of the bull fighting arena, trying not to faint from the lack of blood and seem more pathetic than he did right then.

The people at the arena offered to take him to the closest medical facility, but Rodger demanded that the professionals be brought to him.

It was high noon and the sun blinded him, but he just stayed there, waiting for help to arrive. A large shadow fell over him and he looked up to see a muscular man gazing at him.

"What, haven't you ever seen a man gored by a bull before?" Rodger said testily.

The man shook his head and bent down to examine Rodger's wounds.

"I have, but I haven't seen a man gored by two different bulls before. You're special, man. How on earth could you manage to do that?"

"Listen, I don't know who you are, but I'm bleeding to death here. The least you could do is send for a doctor or something."

The man straightened and said proudly, "I am a doctor!"

Rodger grinned and sat up, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. He didn't want to see the bull horn that was embedded in it.

"Great," Rodger said, "finally someone certified to help me."

"Well, actually, I'm not a doctor really. I'm a nurse."

"Aren't you a little too masculine to be a nurse?"

Rodger knew he had triggered something in the tall nurse's soul when he said that. The nurse put his hands on his hips and glared at Rodger with his eye. The other eye was covered with an eye patch.

"Listen, bub. Guys can be nurses too. In fact, they make better nurses. This is a free country isn't it? The nerve of some people. Why, in my day..." the nurse trailed off into a long, long rant. It was boring, too, so Rodger stopped paying attention after five minutes and started counting his wounds.

He had a bull horn in each shoulder, each from a different bull. Somehow Pete and Sweet the bulls got out at simultaneously attacked Rodger. Rodger had never before been injured in a bullfight. He was covered in scratches, all of them bleeding profusely. As the nurse drawled on, Rodger counted the little red specks that were dancing around his eyes.

"Oooh...pretty," Rodger said dreamily.

The nurse snapped back into reality and gasped.

"Oh no! You're bleeding to death!"

"Yeah, I know. Some assistance, please?"

"Okay, okay, no worries. I have this covered. First, I have to go through all of the basics!" the nurse said.

"The basics!?"

"Yes, first I have to take your blood pressure with this blood pressure...thingy."

"Thingy? Listen, I barely have any blood left."

The nurse ignored this and wrapped the lengthy device around Rodger's arm. An alarmed look spread over the nurse's scarred face.

"Oh no, your blood pressure is low!"

Rodger didn't answer. He didn't have the strength to. All he could think was, Oh God, I'm going to die because a nurse who looks like someone out of Rambo is going through all of the 'basics'. He felt something sharp jab into his arm and let out a cry. The nurse chuckled and pulled the syringe out of Rodger's arm.

"Don't worry, I'm just taking a blood sample," the nurse said.

Rodger no longer felt light headed. He felt pretty close to dead.

"I...need to go to a...Are you sure a professional?" Rodger gasped.

The nurse put a hand over his heart.

"Of course. I got my Nurse Certificate from some old sage guy in Korea."

"Sage guy..?"

"They are the forefathers of medicine you know. It took me a while to get the certificate from him, but after I held him at knife point for a while he drew me out one lickity split!" The nurse held up a crumpled napkin that read, "Certified, Nurse" in pencil.

Rodger let out a groan before everything faded to black.


Rodger woke up, startled at the fact that he was not dead. His eyes struggled to focus, however, so he relied on the sounds and smells around him to tell him where he was. The sound of a fire, warm and comforting. The smell of freshly baked cookies. The sound of a knife being sharpened. All warm, comforting thin-

Rodger bolted up and looked around himself. He saw that he was in a hut constructed of bamboo, with a fire blazing in the middle. He knew that he was lying in a hospital bed, but no other hospital like things in sight. Pictures hung on the wall. Pictures of Nurse doing things like gutting a pig, wrestling a bear, and saving a marine from a pipe bomb. The nurse himself was in a corner, sharpening his knife. He looked up and smiled at Rodger. The nurse had lost quite a few teeth.

"Glad to see you're alive-er-awake!"

"Where the heck am I?"

"You're in my house. I brought you here because it was close. It's comforting, isn't it?"

If guns on the walls and knives being sharpened was considered comforting, then this had to be the most comforting place in the world.

"Let me go," Rodger said.

"No problem! You'll just have to sit in the waiting room while I get your form signed." The nurse motioned to a chair in the corner of the hut covered in suspicious magazines. Rodger limped over, his fear masking his pain.

Who is this guy, Rodger thought, an assassin? A loon? A crook? Whoever he is, I am never going to ask for professional help again!

The nurse stamped a piece of paper and handed it to him.

"You're free to go!"

The paper read,

"You're free to go. Signed, Nurse. AKA. Horton Hughs, the greatest soldier of all time."

___

Well there you go! That was certainly an odd story. Comment are appreciated and tune in tomorrow for another prompt!