The next half hour consisted of all manner of probing in a disturbingly gentle way by John who stuck needles into his arm, thermometers into his mouth, wrapped Velcro straps around his arm and finally probed his mind, asking him a heap of questions to confirm if Patsy was who he said he was. By the end of it he had forgotten his disappointment but wondered had he any blood left inside of his body. Even more unnerving was why anyone would want to pretend to be someone else, who was about to be half slaughtered on an operating table. Even one of the boys from the home of the deranged would have more sense surely than to have their back bone sliced and diced just for the fun of it. Yet going by the amount of times he had to give his name and date of birth there must be lunatics out there willing to take on surgery not meant for themselves.
“Is the accident and emergency room busy today John” Patsy enquired, a serious look on his face and twinkle in the one eye facing the nurse.
“I wouldn’t know Patsy, why?” John replied as he pulled back the plunger of the syringe, attached to one of three different needles sticking out of his arms and hands. A trail of rich red blood trailed into the test tube to be replaced quickly by another.
“It’s just you are after taken enough blood out of me to keep the whole of Dublin in blood for weeks” Patsy replied watching in fascination as the stream of liquid was pulled out of him.
“You’re a gas man Patsy. That’s fine strong looking blood you have there. Pure dark red, are you taking any medication or drugs or anything?” John wasn’t the type of man to indulge in humorous banter while caring for his charges.
“Not a thing” He hoped his face wouldn’t give away the slight bit of guilt, he felt over hiding the truth, but he was damned if he was telling them something which would for ever be on his medical record, to come back to bite him for the rest of his life. He had looked it up and there was no real harm in it anyway. The whole of the country were on some form of drugs and most of them used stuff which made you weak where as he took was something making you strong.
“Well you know it’s better to tell us, the anaesthetics can mix badly with some things. Especially the likes of steroids, you are a big lump of a lad.” The fun and games were gone now as John stared into Patsy’s eye looking for answers where none would be given.
Why had he tried to be a smart arse with the blood comment, now the fecking gobshite was looking at him all queer trying to delve into his soul.
“It comes from my mother side” Patsy said
“You buy drugs from your mother’s family.” John’s face betrayed his shock at hearing a bigger admission than even he had expected. Just then Gretha lost control of her footing as she leaned too far against the curtain to hear a bit better. She ended up lying across the bed with her face in Patsys groin and her legs straggling up in the air. Her head bobbed up and down as she tried to swing herself back up to standing. Patsy tried to move to help her but ended up with his hips going up and down in motion with Gretha’s as the drip in his arm restricted his movement. John jumped up and ran around to save Gretha. He had just managed to get her away from stimulating something she had never even heard of, not to mind practised up until then, when there was a terrible loud bang behind them. Bridie who had indeed not only heard of but had seen pictures of the same act, came in from the toilet to see her friend in such a compromising position and took a weakness in her knees and crumbled onto the floor. A smile crossed Patsy’s lips as the madness of the whole situation reminded him of an episode from a television comedy show from the 70’s. But the smile was put on the other side of his face when Gretha, who had realised he was laughing at herself and her best friend, suddenly took great offence and swung back a big leathery hand and planted him a slap on the side of the face capable of knocking a brewery strong horse into the middle of next week. Patsy slumped back against the pillow with his hand over his stinging face, struggling to hold on to consciousness, while Gretha ran over to Bridie who John was helping to get back in to bed.
This is a nightmare was all Patsy could think, as John shot him a filthy look as he ran out of the ward to get help. He decided he would try to explain to him later on, that he had only meant he was big because his mother side of the family were big boned farmers of decent stock, with women folk who were as strong as some of the bulls out in the fields. But for the time been he had to live as a drug taking member of a drug selling family, who had just been taken advantage of by a woman in her eighties, who had then given him a black eye when she realised that he had somehow degraded her standing in the community.
Chapter 2: The Move
“is there any chance of an ice pack for my eye?” Patsy asked John, once they were in the corridor and away from Gretha and Betty who were still not the better of the whole incident.
“Ah now John are you not talking to me, it wasn’t my fault” but still he refused to answer. The wheelchair cruised along the corridors with Patsy and his suitcase heading for the Neurosurgery ward.
“Fecking gobshite” Patsy mumbled to himself, he could never bear the silent treatment. He would get up out of the chair and walk only he hadn’t a balls notion where he was meant to be going. When they reached the new ward he was left in the hall as John whispered something to the matron. He didn’t need his ears to start itching to know who they were talking about, as the pair of them stood there throwing him dirty looks. Eventually John passed him by with what looked like tears streaking his soft cheeks and the matron who was a voluptuous woman, with a contemptuous look in her eye, came over to him.
“It wasn’t my fault you know” Patsy said immediately, determined to get his spoke in first. She stood there looking at him over the mounts of her sizeable bosom, without a word passing her lips and a face on her which would turn an alpha male grey back gorilla into a squealing baboon. A trickle of coldness ran down his back where it gathered along the band of his brand new red and green stripped y fronts. Her mouth opened and Patsys’s closed with a deep breath and then just as he was about to get up and do a runner and forget about the whole operation business, she burst out laughing.
“It’s the first time to have someone as famous as yourself on the ward. You’re the talk of the whole hospital, poor John may never be the same and I hear you have introduced two elderly women to all manner of wild practices and debauchery. The female staff will be delighted to get a chance of taking care of you.”
“It didn’t take much introducing, she knew exactly where to fall and what to do.” Patsy replied smiling, he was still too cautious to actually join in the laughing. His facing started to sting again now he had been taken back from the precipice of nursing horror.
“Do the women always fall into your lap in the right position” she replied patting the inside of his upper thigh, giving it a bit of a squeeze that drove a pulse of excitement and utter horror and confusion through him. He met her wink with a smile while inside he was trying to figure out what his penis thought it was exactly up to