Code Blue: A Short Story

The stench of death hit my nostrils as I opened the door to go inside, which is why I always hated going to the hospital. We waited the fifteen minute queue, until I heard my name from a nurse. I followed the nurse into a small, beige room. I sat down on the examining table, as my doctor walked in. I told him my symptoms, and he did a quick check up. His cold fingers pressed against my lower back. “Breathe in and out.” He said. I did as told. “Slower.” he exclaimed. At that moment, while I was slowly breathing in and out, I could hear a small click every time I inhaled. The doctor looked up and said, “Ahhh, you seem to have pneumonia.” He explained to my mom and I what that meant because we were clueless. After he finished, he told us that if I waited any longer to go to the hospital, he wouldn’t be speaking to me, which opened my mom’s eyes finally. He told me that I couldn’t go to school for at least another two weeks, gave me a school note and my prescription. We left the hospital. My mom dropped me off, and went to pick up the medication. As I lay in bed, I remember thinking about everything that has happened to me in the past two days, and what the doctor told me. Those thoughts were interrupted by the opening of my bedroom door as my mom walked in. She handed me the medication. I swallowed the pills, and fell asleep. The next morning my mom walks in with a stack of papers. She said, “It’s alright if you’re not able to attend class,

Eddie’s first encounter and person he meets in heaven. His name is Joseph Corvelzchik, also called the ‘Blue Man’. He is a clown at an amusement park, originally from Poland. He experience a chemical reaction to a medical condition and from taking silver nitrate, so his skin turned ‘blueish’ and he loses his job because it his skin scares other employees. Joseph tells Eddie that had meet, but when Eddie was driving he caused Joseph to suddenly stop and Joseph had a heart attack. Eddie is not sure why Joseph is not angry with him because it caused him his death. This is first lesson Eddie learns. “This is the greatest gift God can give you: to understand what happened in your life. To have it explained. It is the peace you have been searching for” (the Blue Man, pg. 35). Eddie’s actions had an impact on his and someone else’s life. The act seemed random, but all of us are interconnected and intertwined together throughout our lives.

I share this story simply because it is my background that has given me the life I live today. My parents’ lack in further education has motivated me to be the first in my family. Seeing my family struggle has pushed me to succeed in every task I attempt and to never back down when life throws me a curveball. Watching my father age has inspired me to reach for every dream I feel is impossible and to live to my absolute fullest potential. My education, in turn, has become the main priority in my life. Realizing that after years of struggle, my family is finally happy and blessed with the gift of life, has shown me that life was not meant to be

I could hear my breathing as if it was a voluntary action. As I saw my mom car come screeching into the driveway, she rushed out, I ran up to her as I tearfully asked, "Is he okay?" With hesitancy and a sorrow- filled voice she said, "He's dead," I screamed over and over again, "No, no, not my brother! Anyone but him!" and I broke down crying, I felt as if I was paralyzed, I felt like I was suffocating; as if a giant hand was clamped around my heart, I wanted to run, I wanted to scream, I wanted for it to not be

In Emergency Medical Technician school, you learn that when a patient is in critical condition they will feel an impending sense of doom before there body goes into complete shock. After this drastic change in behavior I sensed that his condition was about to get much worse. As he began to scream his evergreen eyes found mine. Our eyes were locked, and that’s when I watched them disappear like a sunset into the back of his head. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder if it was my eyes that were the last thing he saw on Earth. Then he seized. All I remember thinking was that I had to get out of the

I awoke with the sound of beeps in the distance. My eyes fluttered, eyelashes blocking my small spot of a view. In the corner, I could see my mom, her head in her hands, shaking slowly from tears. I gradually moved my head to the left. The room was bright, with white floors and bleached walls. There were multiple carts full of medical supplies right next to me. While scanning the room, I could hear my mother gasp and run out of the door. Moments later, a tall lanky guy walked into in the room. He was wearing scrubs with little stars and a light blue stethoscope was dangling from

Sitting in a hospital waiting room, alone, afraid; and waiting for the news; would she be ok? Would she even survive? My nerves were out of control; my heart was beating through my chest, you could literally see it thumping through my top. The beads of sweat racing down my forehead, as if I was in the middle of the Safari dessert. I have been an athlete my entire life, yet I have never felt so physically drained. I look around, my eyes opening, then closing; as if I am coming in and out of consciousness, then suddenly echoed words begin to ring around my ear drums….” Sir…...sir, can you hear me? Sir please, we need to know what happened. We need to know what happened to her. Maybe my motionless state showed my

Even six year old me could see the great suffering my father experienced not only mentally but physically. I recall once walking in the bathroom and seeing my father vomit, it was the first time I seen him so vulnerable. I could see the pain in his eyes. It was our third month in the united states and my father could not find a job, it was killing him. He was considering a job as a dishwasher to support his family, for that I could never repay him. A sprinkle of hope glimmered in our dark world when my dad got a job as a dispatcher at a local Airport, when I look back now I wonder if father ever felt disappointed that his hard nights of studying in college was futile, if he know that he would have to give up his career to support his family. Soon we moved out of my aunt and uncle’s how’s into a small one bedroom apartment in a sketchy neighborhood. By that time my mother has lost a total of thirty pounds. The once vibrant and sociable women was always tired, she often made called relatives back home which resulted in her crying for hours. My father would often cook and clean, it was fascinating to see my dad performing these tasks

We drove for what seemed hours to my six year old self. When we arrived in the parking lot of the hospital, which I can never remember the name of, he told us why we were there. Lauren threw a fit, screaming and crying like someone was hurting her. She shouted “I never wanted him”. I believe that is still to this day the biggest lie she has ever told. We walked up to the big glass hospital doors, and straight through them to the elevator. I waited and waited for what seemed forever until the big silver doors opened, and my dad showed us which way to go. We walked past room after room listening to the crying and sometimes laughter. Finally, we got to the right room and we walked in. There sat my mother on a hospital bed. She didn’t seem hurt or in pain, but they said it was happening fast. At one point my mother’s father (Poppy) took us down to the cafe, and all I remember is that hospitals have very good spaghetti. My Poppy got a phone call and all of the sudden we were on the move, going through the halls like there was a fire we were trying to escape from. When we got back to my mother’s hospital room, everyone looked so upset; their faces, eyes and cheeks were red and

I watched as my family said goodbye as a I lay in my hospital bed, breathing raspily. I told them that I loved them. I tried to reach out for my mother’s hand, but was stopped by the short slack of all the tubes and wires connected to me. She comes closer so she can hold my hand, so she can comfort me in my last moments.

I ran to my mom and told her the good news, but she looked dimly at me and only smiled a little, I asked what's wrong and she said, “All of my tumors have gone down but, I’m still sick, I can't have people raising money for me when i keep getting sick”, her voice cracking, all i said was “oh” and walked away, there was nothing i could do...When I got home from school, my aunt Cindy was there and Emergency responders were right in front of my aunt, my mom was on the floor and I freaked and ran toward her, a policeman asked me to identify myself, I said her daughter and i asked what went wrong, all he said was “I can't give that information, sorry” I started to get lightheaded and the only thing I remember was falling on the cold, bare ground, and darkness covering

The room was swarming. My heart raced as I watched. I had lost track of myself until the orders of a nurse brought me back. “Jack, grab the crash cart!” she exclaimed while performing compressions. I sprinted to the nurse’s station, grabbed the crash cart, and sprinted back. I retook my position and continued to watch. The patient regained her pulse only to lose it again minutes later. After an additional fifteen minutes of compressions she was back. Relief flooded my body. At the time I didn’t feel anything other than futility, the adrenaline seemed to have numbed most of my thoughts. Later that night I kept replaying the entire scene in my head. I could vividly remember the family crying outside, the efficiency with which the physicians worked, and a strong feeling of helplessness I felt at the time, wanting to help, but being unable to do so was infuriating. I could not stop thinking about. About a week later I came to the conclusion that what I had witnessed was something beautiful. Everyone in that room was dedicated to saving this person’s life. This was their job, and it was nothing short of heroism. Even more heartening was the humanity of it all. Witnessing those physicians, having dedicated their lives to be there at that moment to save this person’s life was truly inspiring.

When I saw my aunt and uncle walk into the waiting room, fresh tear stains streaked upon their cheeks, I knew. When my uncle opened his mouth to say something and nothing came out but a child like squeal, my heart was torn in half. When someone finally said the words ‘she’s gone’ to the family members that had just arrived, getting my extremities cut off of my body one by one would have most certainly hurt less. I shut down and sat in that too clean smelling hospital room, little by little people began to say their good-byes to each other and leave, while I just sat. My grandpa walked in and I looked up at the red neon clock on the wall to see that a hour had passed. Without saying a word, he motioned and walked with me out of the room to the end of the hallway where my sister and cousin were sitting. The corner where the four of us sat, you could look out the windows into a sea of city

“Anthony!” My mother beckoned for me to come downstairs “what?” i replied “i have some bad news.” she said back. Intrigued by this i quickly stood up and rushed to the first floor of our house. When i got to the bottom of the stairs i looked at her and asked “what was wrong? Was someone hurt?” my mind raced with questions and i tried to start rifling them off when i was interrupted by her saying “Your father is in the ICU.” my heart sank at those words, as if i was hit by a car. I had known something was wrong with my father for a long time now. Even with how young i was at the time i still had a firm grip on death and how closely it is associated with the ICU. my thoughts were then interrupted by her continuing to speak “he went to go

Life was bad and if I wanted any help I had only one choice my parents. Going to them was a thing I was not proud of. When I showed up at their door step I could tell they were dumbfounded. I could imagine what was going through their minds when they first saw me. “Who is this?” “This cant be our daughter.” I swallowed my pride and asked for their help.