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Sunday, June 28th, 2009 | Author: Carol Loving

It wasn’t until 7:30 the next morning, when the day shift began to inspect beds, that someone found the bodies of Dr. Chestnut and Jane Paine. Police were summoned to We Care and began an investigation into the deaths of the doctor and the patient.

John Paine was informed of his wife’s passing before the media began to broadcast the strange death of Dr. Chestnut, the third death of a We Care staff member within a week, who lost his life inside the room of a dead patient. John took care of the funeral and cremation arrangements for his wife.

Because of the doctor’s death inside her room, the law wanted an autopsy report on Jane. It was only through the autopsy report that John learned that his wife had had a feeding tube inserted into her stomach and had been attached to a breathing machine, something she stated in her Living Will that she did not want to be subjected to, under any circumstances.

John filed a wrongful death suit against the We Care Nursing Home and tried to live with himself for putting his wife there in the first place.

The owls continued to scrutinize the actions of the doctors and nursing staff, as the humans went about their business inside the facility. They waged their winged war over the next couple of years, with the institute that promoted the primitive hauntings of human ethics.

When they saw the need to step in, they did. After the death of sixteen more doctors, a dozen nurses, and three more orderlies, We Care finally lost its license to operate. We Care closed its doors, but the war on medical abuse was not over.

People were still confined to institutional suffering while waiting to die. The poor, unfortunate patients at We Care were shuffled off to other nursing homes, where they continued to suffer. Battles had been won as a result of the stringent actions of the owls, but the warlord of human suffering still has thousands of containment camps brimming with people like Jane.

The End

Tuesday, June 23rd, 2009 | Author: Carol Loving

The Breathorama 980 did not make a sound and the dead doctor was silent. The owl had done what he had entered the room to do and he flew up to Jane’s bed and stood near her pillow to look at her.

You pulled the plug. Why? You’re helping me die. Thank you, thank you.

The owl continued to look into Jane’s eyes as she looked into his.

It will be over soon, the suffering I’ve been put through. I’m not afraid to die. I look forward to meeting my maker.

They continued to look into each others eyes.

I feel light headed. No oxygen to the brain, that’s what it is. I’m dying. I’m going to pass out. Thank you, dear owl, for your compassion…

The image of the owl blurred as Jane’s eyes rolled back into her head.

She entered a state of unconsciousness and, not long thereafter, her heart stopped beating. The silent owl remained by her side int he dimly lit room, until the last pulse of blood ceased to circulate. When Jane was gone, the owl made his way through the window and left through the opening  in the glass.

He flew to his sanctuary in the trees.

final instalment upcoming…

Sunday, June 14th, 2009 | Author: Carol Loving

The doctor left the room and the owl returned to the window ledge.

His large round eyes looked at Jane’s upper body rise and fall, as she  lay glued  to the bed. He saw tear drops fall from the corner of her eye. He took his talon and scratched at the corner of the window, with persistence he scraped away a hole in the glass that was large enough for him to pass through.

The owl passed through the hole and flew over to Jane’s bed. She looked at him in disbelief.

I’ve gone insane, none of this is happening. It’s all a bad dream.

The owl dropped down to the floor, walked over to the electrical plug, and with a strong foothold, he pulled the plug to the Breathorama 980 completely out of the electrical socket.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The alarm went off as the activity of the machine stopped. Dr. Chestman was close by and went into Jane’s room when he heard the alarm to his Breathorama 980. He pushed the Stop Alarm button on the machine and found himself under attack.

The owl bit deep into the doctor’s neck and tore a chunk of flesh out. There was nothing the doctor could do to save his life, as he dropped instantly to the floor with bright red blood spurting out of the artery in his neck.

The room was quiet and still once again.

to be continued…

Friday, June 12th, 2009 | Author: Carol Loving

A doctor walked into Jane’s room. Beside him, he rolled in a Breathorama 980, it was one of the original designs and very large.

“Hi, Jane. I’m Dr. Chestnut. I am going to perform a minor procedure on you. I am just going to make a slit in your throat and insert this tube into your windpipe. Don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing.”

No! Take your hands off me! Take your hands off me!

“I am going to numb you with this ointment first, then, inject you with something.”

I said, No! Don’t cut my throat, you bastard!

“Okay, Jane, here we go. Just a minute, just about there. Okay, wait a minute. I jaut have to clamp the flesh. Okay! Now, that wasn’t too bad, was it?”

The doctor stepped back to admire his work. He was pleased with the way things looked and never noticed the small stream of tears coming from Jane’s eyes. The doctor had performed his duty, was proud of his work, and was ready to push the ON button on the Breathorama 980.

With a press of the finger, the dragging hydraulic movement of the machine fed noise into the silent room, as it inflated and deflated human lungs. Jane could feel the air being forced into her. She could feel her ribs expand and her chest rise with the infiltration of air.

She felt the reverse action take place within her stone heavy body, as the vintage Breathorama 980 reversed its force and began to extract the air out of her.

Air in, inflate. Air out, deflate.

Don’t do this to me! I can’t stand it! I’ll go insane!

The doctor looked down at her with a smile on his face.

Don’t fill me with air! I’m not a balloon! I’m  a human being!

“You’re going to be fine now, Jane. I will be in to check on you later.”

No, I’m not. I’m less than human, now. I’m just a lab rat, under their will, their madness, their deranged obsessions.

to be continued…

Sunday, June 07th, 2009 | Author: Carol Loving

Good! I’m glad Dr. Snippit is dead. First the orderly, now Dr. Snippit. Is there a force attempting to rid the evil in this institution?

“Jane, the word is they are going to put you on a respirator. I thought you would appreciate knowing before they come marching in here to start the breathing facilitation procedure.”

Oh my God! They can’t do that! They can keep me alive forever!

“I know your lungs are about to give out, sooner rather than later, by the looks of you, and, when that happens you will die. But, they don’t want that to happen. They want to put you on a machine that pumps air into your lungs.”

Where are my rights? Where is my freedom? I want my death!

“Inflate, deflate. Inflate, deflate. God help you, Jane.”

The aide massaged Jane’s thin-skinned back, accentuated by the protrusion of her shoulder blades, ribcage, and spine. She also rubbed Jane’s muscleless thighs and caves, before she returned Jane’s living-dead body to her backside.

The aide made sure Jane was able to look out the window before she flushed the pureed diet down the toilet and charted that the patient tolerated her diet well.

Where is John? Why hasn’t he come to see me? What has this deadly disease done to him? I know you are just a man, John, but, mind you, if the tables were turned, I would never have turned my back on you and walked away like a coward. No, John, I would have cared for you until your last breath.

The owl came to pay Jane a visit, as he did each and every evening. He landed on her window ledge and interrupted her lonely thoughts.

You! You and that aide are the only ones who give a hoot about me. Oh, my God, a pun. You care about me, don’t you? Otherwise, why would you come see me? Listen to me! I’m talking to a bird like he can read my thoughts.

The owl spotted the movement of the door and left the ledge for the shelter of the tree.

No, don’t go! They are going to attach a machine to me. This isn’t nursing care, it’s medical tyranny!

to be continued…

Saturday, June 06th, 2009 | Author: Carol Loving

“I was off for a few days.”

I’m so glad to see you. I missed you. The people here are horrible.

“I heard about the feeding tube. I’m sorry they did that to you, but I hear you’ve been giving them a lot of shit in return.”

That was funny. I did give them shit!

“Don’t worry, Jane,” the aide said quietly. “I’m not going to force any food down that tube. I don’t think it’s right. Dr. Snippit has put these red tubes into countless people, so poor workers like me can force food into their stomach. I never did like that Dr. Snippit.”

A chill came over the aide as she thought about the doctor.

“Jane, I’m going to roll you over and massage your back. No one is turning you like the orders state. My god,” she said, as it took all her strength to roll Jane onto her side, “dead weight is deceptively heavy.”

Don’t let me fall! Hold on to me! Oh, thank you, thank you.

“Here you go, I’ll get the circulation going.”

With lotion, the aide worked her hands over Jane’s emaciated backside. The very touch of kindness created a wave of peace within Jane’s body.

“I don’t know what to think about Dr. Snippit’s death. They say he was found on top of a garbage heap at the dump, no one knows how he got there.”

Jane was surprised and pleased to hear about Dr. Snippit.

“No one can explain the condition of his body. They said there were stab wounds all over his body. Some say the wounds were inflicted by some kind of animal. I’ll tell you, Jane, strange things are happening.”

So, Dr. Snippit is dead.

to be continued…

Monday, June 01st, 2009 | Author: Carol Loving

The owls carried the doctor through the  calm cold night air. Their talons were attached to his hair, ears, nose, mouth. They penetrated the protective layer of his expensive coat and dug into his shoulders and arms. They clamped their talons into his hands and fingers, and easily clawed through the pant legs to penetrate his flesh.

The owls held on to the doctor like a bear locks a salmon in its jaw.

The doctor was scared out of his wits as the owls came in for the attack and he urinated his pants as they whisked him up off his feet into the chilling night air. The stab of each talon penetrating his flesh gave rise to a level of pain Dr. Snippit never knew existed. He lost consciousness as he was sped through space, way up high where only the birds fly.

The closer the owls got to the dump, the higher they forced their wings to take them. When they reached the summit of their flight, the owls released their talons and returned to the treetop homes.

Dr. Snippit was missing for several days before his body was discovered at the dump. The We Care nursing staff showed concern, worry, and shock when the news about the doctor’s death began to spread. Suspicion spread faster than cancer and fear edged up from the cushioned soles of nursing shoes.

The orderly. The doctor. Who was next?

In the meantime, pureed food was plunged into Jane’s stomach via the red tube. Milk and soda was funneled into her stomach as well. Introduction to all this food caused a massive flood of bowel movements, which, in turn, produced a good number of foul and nasty diapers that had to be changed by disgruntled workers.

Dear God in heaven, I hate these people and the misery they perpetuate. Why must it be this way? Why is there no compassion or sense of decency?

“Jane, I’m back.” It was the aide who befriended her.

to be continued…

Friday, May 29th, 2009 | Author: Carol Loving

The owl watched as the doctor stuck a needle into Jane several times, before he cut her open with a blade as sharp as his own talon. He watched the doctor jab the piece of red tube into her lanced flesh and fiddle about with clamps and tape, as Jane lay defenseless from the barbaric attack upon her motionless body.

“There you are, Jane, good as new. Someone will be by on the morning to insert pureed food into your stomach. That will keep you going. We care about you here at We Care, Jane. We want to continue to take care of you. You will feel better once you eat, trust me.”

I hate you! you foul, corrupt, disgusting excuse for a human being. You call yourself a doctor! A witch doctor! A voodoo doctor preying on the innocent! You’re a rapist, Dr. Snippit! You rape the dying of their dignity and autonomy! I hate you! I hate you!

When the doctor walked out of the room, the owl returned to the ledge to get a closer look at the helpless woman who had just been assaulted. The two looked into each others eyes for a long, long time before Jane fell back into a needed sleep.

He remained on the ledge and stared into the confinement of the quiet, dimly-lit room, where the unfortunate female figure lay stretched out like a corpse, a corpse with a red tube growing out of its belly.

When Dr. Snippit left the We Care facility late that night, the signal went out: two short hoots followed by one long. It was repeated by every owl in the vicinity. The unusual scenario of sound made Dr. Snippit look up into the night sky. The full moon shed enough light for him to see something in flight.

The flapping wings pounded like his heart, as the owls consumed him like a cloak. In a united force, their pierced their talons deeply into his body and lifted the frightened man off the ground. They flew away with him into the night.

to be continued…

Thursday, May 28th, 2009 | Author: Carol Loving

“I’ll tell you the truth, Jane. I know it’s not nice to talk bad about the dead, but I never liked that orderly. It’s his ridiculous beard and mustache, it’s just not normal.”

Jane silently looked up at the woman.

“I think he is hiding something, the same way his beard hides his face. Something very sinister. I don’t know. Anyway, he’s dead and gone and the night shift will be short-staffed.”

The aide looked down at Jane with pity and compassion.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

No, don’t go. If I could only speak! Do you know what it is to die like this? Good bye, damn it, good bye.

The aide left Jane alone to stare out the window, that was all the dying woman could do. Jane fell into a deep sleep and there, in her dreams, she could see herself as her healthy, happy self, free to move and walk about. Talk and laugh.

The owl returned to the ledge outside Jane’s window. He watched her sleep. Her feathered friend moved back into the shelter of the tree when he saw Dr. Snippit enter.

“Jane,” he woke her up. “My name is Dr. Snippit. I am going to perform a simple medical procedure on you so I can help you eat.”

No! I have the right to starve! It’s in my Living Will!

“I am going to give you a local anesthetic, so I can make an incision. I am going to insert this bright red tube into your stomach.”

Take your hands off of me, you bastard! Take your hands off of me!

“Don’t worry, Jane. I will clamp it real good.”

Oh, God, this is madness! Save me from this madness!

“The tube is going to stick out of your abdomen, Jane, so the nurses can facilitate you with your food intake.”

John, you’ve  got to help me! Help me! Someone, help me!

to be continued…

Tuesday, May 26th, 2009 | Author: Carol Loving

“Hi Jane. I’m back.” It was the aide with the kind looking face.

“They discussed your condition in report today. Because you refuse to eat, they are going to take measures. They mentioned Dr. Snippit, that usually means a feeding tube. God help you, Jane.”

Oh, my God, no! Don’t let them do this to me. John, help me. Help me! Come get me!

“Did you hear the news? That orderly who works this floor at night was found dead this morning. You were under his charge last night, the creep with the harry face.”

Memory of the bearded man flew through Jane’s mind and a look of terror was perceptible to the aide.

“What is it? What’s wrong? I thought I saw something in your eyes.”

Jane just looked at the aide as she listened.

“I wish you could talk, must be awful to be the living dead. I’m sorry, Jane. I don’t mean to offend you. That’s just how I see it.”

You see correctly. I am the living dead.

“Anyway, I was going to tell you about the orderly. He was found dead in a ditch, this morning, with flesh picked clean off the bone. They say his eyes were gouged out and he was attacked by some beast. It happened not far from here, after he got off work.”

He’s dead? That disgusting man is dead? Attacked by a beast? A creature of the wild? Good! I hoped he suffered!

What kind of world is this? Why does he die and I suffer? Oh, my God, can’t you help me?

to be continued…