Experimentals: A Narrative Fiction Essay

“Okay, Larry we are going to take some blood samples, and after that we are going to ask you a few questions what’s going on,” said the Dr.Timmy. Dr.Timmy also said, “But before we do any blood samples, we want to know if you are afraid

"Did you have any friends in the experiment with you or did you walk out with several new friends and/or allies?" He questioned again and I could tell this was an interesting question to him that he wanted commentary on the minor subject as opposed to the bigger picture of living in the worst condition of my life that no man should have to go through.

“And Mr. Selkie what would that be, what could be possibly worth a trip to the hospital and had me worried out of my head for you?” she said.

“Why?” He asked, his talking probably made breathing harder, but did he still talk? Yes, he did, and his stupid snotty voice was going to give me a headache.

“Sure? No. But, there doesn’t seem to be pieces sticking out, and I didn’t feel anything out of place. There’s nothing else to do but allow time to tell.”

“Dr. Evans, we should probably get going, a lot to see and less time to do so.” My haze interrupted once again.

“Yes, doctor. I was just looking over the leaflet you gave me concerning the operation.”

“Anyways.” I cleared my throat as my voice caught on the last syllable. “I need to check your vitals. Blood pressure, heart rate, water levels, and the like. We’re required to make sure that the patient gives us consent before we commence, so is it alright with you?” I was bored at the end of the speech, having repeated this to every single patient that I ever

“Do you think someone can come over to the hospital and take me to school so I could take my test?”

Dr. Tolle takes a blood sample, then preps me for the scan. “Tomorrow,” he says

Phenix flicked a glance at Jonas. "Why can you never plan to carry extra supplies with you? And, can't you think of other things besides your gut?"

I hesitated, “Live. I don’t feel anything good anymore. I’m always anxious. And when I’m not anxious I’m numb.”

“Look, I know you’re not happy about this but neither am I.” The Doctor threw a large switch and smashed her fist into a cluster of flashing buttons. “I’ll be late for my appointment as much as you’ll be and there’ll be no telling of the consequences.” The lights in the console room dimmed. A spotlight, seemingly erupting upwards, formed around a single dial beside The

“You let me spare him in the arena, and now you want to kill him? Has all this time we spent nurturing him back to health been for nothing?” I asked.

It’s familiar. I was just here four months ago. The smell, sound, and the people. The clock reads 10:06am. I hear crying babies, sit in a dark room, and wait till I’m chosen for my room. The bracelet is stuck onto my wrist before vitals are taken. “Your blood pressure is up, are you okay?” Well I’m not okay since I’m in the ER because of a 77 day migraine and a numb lip. As I change into the XXL gown in room 9, I lay in bed nervous, but ready for the doctors to come in and review my past, ask everything, and do the normal routine. Yes, I have long-lasting chronic migraines. The pain is in the back of my head. The Toradol, Compazine, Rizatriptan, Sumatriptan, Aleve, Excedrin, Ibuprofen, and Tylenol aren’t decreasing my pain. I’ve been here 5 other times; I get an IV with Toradol, Compazine, and fluids. I feel as if I could just write a resume with all of my information to hand out to every person who walks in the room. I go through about 3 other interviews on my background and the issue I’m here for. Yet again, they decide on the normal procedure. Although, this time it was brought to my attention the day before that my lip is drooping and I realize it is numb. That’s a new issue. Now they run a load of neurological tests to decide if I have had a stroke. An MRI is another thing added to the list this visit.