The Patient

“The patient remains in a coma,” the doctor reported. She smiled slightly. “He does not show signs of improving. We have no way to predict when he will wake up.”

Those listening to her remarks, those who were already awake, sighed in frustration. Waiting for the mind of the comatose to show signs of improvement was . . .

Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “the patient.”


Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

6 thoughts on “The Patient”

  1. The voice on the phone said, “your father has had a heart attack at Saint Lawrence.”

    Jeff came into the OR #9 where I was administering a general anesthetic to the patient having surgery by Dr. Bongiovanni.

    “You have a phone call at Colleen’s desk. I’ll take over.”

    “Hello, how can I help you,”

  2. Having spent his life on the wheelchair for as long as he could remember, he thought about what life was outside the walls of his house. He had lost all his possessions, the bank had come to take charge of his property as well. They wheeled him out in a rather cold manner. But he smiled… The patient wait, the silent sigh of relief and the fresh air filling his lungs!

  3. “The patient , Sir.”
    “What about him ?” He was busy writing the recovery notes. Recovery after anaesthesia. The surgery had gone well.
    “Not responding , Sir. Not breathing either. No pulse.”
    Cardiac arrest!! Everyone ran pell-mell. Adrenaline was loaded, and injected. CPR started. Paddles charged.
    “Clear.” The patient heaved and fell back on the bed , limp.Repeat!!
    Everyone worked , non-stop for 20 minutes.
    Suddenly , the cardiac monitor beeped , once ,twice. From the dreaded straight line , the ECG became crooked, once and then struggled to its feet. The PQRS!! A cheer rang out. Some one shouted -“Intubate!” After intubation and ventilation was over, he went back to his seat.
    New notes. Resuscitation and Ventilation notes.
    All in a days’ work.
    He sighed as he scratched his forehead.His hand smelt of sterilium from the OR 5.

  4. a painful, exhausting experience. The time was passing like a slow fat turtle. Meanwhile, life continues on outside the hospital. The streets were bustling, phones were ringing and music was blaring from a local cafe. Sitting in that holding room with the weight of the world on my shoulders, I almost felt jealous of my friend in the coma. At least she was resting peacefully. For a least a few days, she could live unaware of the rat race that existing just outside those hospital doors.

  5. Yesterday I was “the patient.” In these days of depersonalization it even felt good to be recognized this manner rather than as the number of my room. The “right to privacy” can go too far. Ease that accompanies technology is not all good. Artificial intelligence, for good or not, is fundamentally and forever changing us and our world. Point? Sift the wheat from the chaff. Be alert, vigilant. Whatever the cost it’s cheaper than have to deal with lamentation. Thanks, all the medical staff, for letting me be the patient instead of merely a number.;

  6. There he lies in that hospital bed. Nobody knows how hard he’s trying to hang in there. He can hear them, but O lord, he would do anything to get the strength to speak, to tell them how much he loves them before he finally closes his eyes in death.

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