The only thing Spiritomb said to me this morning was that Alder had only a few hours to live. Everybody knew Alder as one of the old champions of Unova. Spiritomb went on about it as if it was a playground attraction. Of course it would have made much more sense if Alder was in a hospital in Unova, since that was where it was from, but Unova was suffering with an epidemic of MRSA. So to protect Alder from getting the disease he was moved to this hospital.
But I don't think that the epidemic was the only reason he was transferred here. This time last month, Alder was in a nursing home that was closed down. Marshall told me that he was appalled by the dark lighting and high level of abuse. None of the care assistants were properly trained and poison types were in the kitchen and also doing personal care. Poison-types should not be doing any kind of personal care because that would make the patients much more contaminated.
We've had poison-types work in the hospital, but they could not do personal care, nor where they allowed to deal with food. If a patient was a poison-type, only senior nurses and steel-type staff should be allowed near them. It sounds harsh, but it's a scientific fact that poison types are most likely to spread infection faster than any other type.
I could only look at Alder and see that he has been abused. Not from the bruises on his arm, but from the way his bones were sticking out. His frail and skinny frame took me back to when I once watched an interview with him last year. I can remember his big fiery hair and big muscles made him look young for his age. Only neglect could have made him lose a dramatic amount of weight. His mouth couldn't even move properly as it was not used to food. Monica, a bellossom nurse fed him, taking a long two hours for Alder to finish his bowl, and it must have been heartbreaking for him. It must have been the only good meal he's had since being admitted to the home.
Judging from what I observed, it looked as if Alder knew his time to go was on its way. In the staff room the chanseys told Domino and myself that Alder had been kissing a picture of his late volcarona and croaked, "It won't be long until we meet again." Those words must have left a burning mark in their heads. They're so used to people begging to save patients' lives, by the time it's time for a patient to die they feel as if they've failed a task.
Old age can be a lonely era for humans because they lose so much and realize how much they had in their youth. I remember the last time I saw Alder in person was when he was carrying his baby grandson in his arms. He looked so happy back then, just as he tried to be on that plain white bed. I was left with alone with Alder. I was told by Domino to keep a close eye on him, and I found myself in the rare position of having nothing much to do. I swayed my eyes against the blue walls and how the white bed and ginger hair made a striking contrast.
Alder raised his eyebrow and his arm slipped out of the bed. "Matron..." I stepped closer and reached my arm out. He wrapped my arm around his index finger. With his shrinking eyes he told me that he didn't have very long to live. He didn't have a worried look on his face at all. "Do you think my grandson will be coming?"
"I'm sure he is on his way," I assured him.
"I've forgotten his name," Alder croaked. "If only I could see him just for a moment, then his name will come to me." Benga was spitting image of his grandfather in his youth. Just as I was about to speak, Alder gently poked me. "Don't tell me his name," Alder requested. "I can't even remember the names of my family either. Maybe they will come to me too."
Alder's forgetfulness and declines in health were solid signs of the Alzheimer disease. I felt that I had the evidence to diagnose him with that kind of dementia. Why didn't the poor man get the support he needed. I really believed that if he hadn't had gone through such horrific abuse that he could have still had a chance of surviving a little longer. I wanted to say that I could cure him, but there was no current cure for dementia.
It wasn't long until Benga finally arrived to the hospital. He looked bewildered and his eyes were wet. The poor child, Alder wouldn't want him to become a burden. As soon as he entered the room, his legs froze. He wept and shook his shoulders.
"How is he?" Benga asked.
"He is dying," I confirmed. "We are trying to make the final hours of his life as comfortable as we can."
Benga was silent and scurried to Alder's lap. He held onto Alder's hand and their eyes never left each other. Benga's mouth trembled as if he was trying to find the words to speak but they were stuck in his throat.
"Benga..." Alder croaked.
"Yes," Benga cried.
"Of course," Alder muttered. "That is your name. I remember now."
Alder closed his eyes for the very last time. I looked up at the watch and said, "Time of death 19:48."
Benga's upper body jumped on the bed as he held onto his grandfather's shoulder. I hopped over to Benga and rubbed his back. He buried himself on Alder's chest and wailed without letting go of his grandfather. It was the end of Alder's suffering, but the beginning of Benga's grief.
Last edited by ChloboShoka; 16th November 2012 at 8:05 PM.
This is one of the sad chapters. I like how you setup the background so fast and how you managed to make the atmosphere so sad and all. Your portrayal of how he is going to meet his Volcarona makes the situation almost realistic. I especially love your ending, "end of Alder's suffering, but the beginning of Benga's grief". This chapter actually describes the sadness of losing a close family, relative or friends.
Another great chapter, as always
Credits to Sworn Metalhead
This chapter was written for my friend Aurareader, and I was his Secret Santa over at advancers (an advanceshipping forum). He's a great fan of Carry On, Blissey so when I found out I got him, I decided to make this chapter dedicated to him. It was going to be just a stand alone but I thought it didn't make much sense as a stand alone.
Chapter Sixteen: A Boy Was Born
I've heard at least eight trainers a day say it. They always seem astonished when they see Kadabra teleport from place to place or surprised to see a pack of rodents run across the wards wearing nursing hats and jackets. They did not expect other pokémon working for the hospital apart from chanseys, blisseys and audinos.
When it comes down to it, most trainers don't really care who gives them treatment as long as their teams get healed. At the same time, they expect far too much from us. The healing machine can't heal every disease nor can it bring anyone back to life. Though I must confess that I do think that working in the human wards can be extremely frustrating. The healing does nothing for humans.
Domino made me do training in midwifery. She said that I should consider it as an apprenticeship of some sorts. Midwifery was one of the units at Smogon University. Midwifery for humans was mentioned briefly, but luckily for us, the trainers had to do the written work for us. I've helped human midwives deliver the baby before, but doing it on my own makes me nervous.
I don't want to show I'm nervous. Usually I'll have somebody with me when a girl is in labour, but Domino and the rest of the higher staff in the hospital believe that I can do it on my own. I'm flattered that they can trust me enough as a senior nurse with independence, but I'm only Matron Blissey. I can't solve all the hospital's problems on my own.
I know that they're all only human, but the policies clearly state that pokémon should always be supervised by human staff during labour. This is a serious violation and if I mess up, I'd have no one to help me and also the mother and the baby could be in fatal danger.
The lady was holding onto her boyfriend's hand. Her boyfriend looked a lot like Red, only that he was a smaller in height. You could call him Red's Mini-Me. Strangely enough the lady in labour could also be young doppelgänger of Sapphire, a trainer I know from Hoenn. I don't believe that Red and Sapphire have never met but their influence is undeniable.
It's nice to have a baby born for Christmas, it's a lovely way to spent the holidays. I don't really get the time to celebrate Christmas because it's such a busy time of the year. It's a really crazy time at the hospital too. Nobody wants to spent their Christmas in the hospital and not many of them like hospital food. Our chef, Swampy gave the patients black custard and chips for pudding.
There's a lot of contests that happen on Boxing Day. They want to use all their lovely Christmas leftovers and use them to impress the judges. I personally find beauty pageants like this boring, but they're a lot better than the beauty pageants for toddlers under five. But I honestly believe that contests and beauty pageants promote it paedophilia and poképhilia. They're living creatures: not sex toys!
Though I have to be really careful not to say my thoughts out loud. The girl is a pokémon co-ordinator and makes her pokémon enter contests for a living. I have to treat them just how I would treat any other of my patients. I don't think the lady will be entering any contests until the New Year.
The girl's name was May and she had been in labour for two hours. Her boyfriend stood in the middle of the room with a pikachu on it's head. I think he said his name was Ash. I couldn't tell because his voice was muffled with all the bacon in his mouth. He looked pale as he blocked his ears from the screaming. Poor blessed children. Domino said that May was only sixteen. When I heard about May's age, I remembered an old patient, Mr. Fierce complaining about a program called 16 & Pregnant.
"I shouldn't have to watch this rubbish!" Mr. Fierce cried out. I let Mr. Fierce choose a channel that he wanted on and ended up being happy with the discovery channel. There are times when I miss my patients, but at the same time I'm happy when they leave because I hope they will either have a happy life or that it will get back to normal. For patients like Mr. Fierce, things will never be the same, but he can still enjoy life.
Other chanseys came into the room just in time for May's active phase of labour. The chanseys and I can do as much as we can to support the mother and the child, but it's really May and her child that are doing all the hard work. But we have to be on guard, now that her amniotic sac's ruptured, the child is more exposed to infection if the delivery is not safe.
We could all be here for up to 12 hours, but I can't be too sure about that. It may depend on how strong May's contractions are. I had been with Ash and May for a while now. Midwifery isn't just about the babies, it's about caring for the mother right through to the very end of the pregnancy. There are some things that I disagree with iun terms of her lifestyle, but I have to take it as it is.
My attention was drawn over to the young man who tiptoed behind the chanseys. He treaded carefully as if he was in a forbidden forest lurking with death traps. Bringing a child in the world is meant to be one of the most proudest experiences a human could ever have, but that doesn't mean that they'll be any less scared.
"What did you say your name was?" I asked the lad.
"Ash," he mumbled.
"How long have you known May for?"
"At least five years," he said, then gulped. Well, it could have been worse. At least the mother knew the father. There are some young mothers who don't even know their own baby's dad.
"I know you're nervous," I told Ash, "But you have to support May and your child in every way possible. This child change your life forever."
It seemed that Ash returned to his senses and held onto May's hand. The rest of the birth was pretty much average and later in the early hours in the morning May delivered a healthy son. The young couple looked really happy. There was no denying that their smiles lit up the room.
The hospital wasn't the best place to spend Christmas, but they did make the most of it.
Hi there =D.
I've been following this fic for a while now, but I've decided to comment. You have an awesome style of writing. I like it being from a pokemon's perspective (blissey) instead of a trainers. You have an excellent balance of reality and fiction. I like the way you can be mature about this because I know people that would say 'tee hee paedophiles, in Pokemon.' I also like your use of hacked syndrome. I must say my favourite chapter has been MR. Fierce's, a shame he cant battle =(.
Now onto the above chapter.... Christmas at the hospital, nice theme. I think that is good that you have a range of pokemon working at various jobs in the hospital. Oh and midwife blissey is a good job. Im glad to see Ash and May , and their new son. Good chapter mate.
But the best thing about this is the real life issues you talk about, and the affects they can have, this is a fic to be proud of.
The almighty Turtwig is my claim
3DS Friend Code: 2621-3316-5077 (Paddy)
If any one has a spare Lopunite could you PM me and we shall negotiate a trade!
Episode Seventeen: Staff Meeting
I should be out there helping patients. Not loafing around on a chair with other members of staff. Domino decided to have the day off, so I had to attend a meeting in her place. It was mainly the human senior management with their dull suits and fancy shoes. The chunky man in the corner of the room needs to straighten up his lilac tie. The man next to him could do with a decent meal and smaller clothes. The lady sitting next to me needs to wash that crap off her face.
"I want to thank you all for attending this meeting," the skinny man said. "Unfortunately, Nurse Joy can't make it this afternoon so we have Matron Blissey instead."
"So what is this meeting about?" I asked. "Nurse Joy was so busy, she never really got to explain it to me."
"That's okay," the skinny man said again as his head bowed over his knees. "I'm Hank, the assistant manager and this is Arthur, our area manager. Now we're about to discuss some new findings following a research project down in Orre."
"For many years we've been wondering why female nidorans lose their fertility after evolution," Hank announced. "And it seems we finally know what it is."
"Do you know about the Polycystic Ovary Syndrome?"
"Women can have that," I said. "It leads to all sort of problems for women who have it."
"We believe that female nidorans also have PCOS," Arthur announced. He picked up the board against his leg and held it towards his chest. "These pictures show the reproductive system of a nidorina and a nidoqueen. As you can see the ovaries have a lot of cysts and these can lead to infertility, and that's why nidorina and nidoqueen can't breed."
"This makes a lot of sense," one of the ladies said as her peers gasped in unison. I don't see what's so mind-blowing about it, I already had a feeling that would be why female nidorans lose their fertility as soon as they evolve. Well, at least the humans found something educating. I think that it will probably break the news and there will be less nidorina and nidoqueens about.
The meeting was interrupted by a loud scream. It sounded as if it was coming from Domino's office. It sounded like the cry of a woman who had lost their child. The screams continued, and it grated my ears. I hopped off the chair and bowed at the men. "Excuse me," I said. "It's been nice meeting you, but I must go and see what's going on in Nurse Joy's office."
"That sound is from her office?" Hank asked. Arthur and their peers rose from their seats.
"It is," I said.
"Oh dear," Hank said. "I hope she is okay."
"PHIONE!" I followed the sound of Domino's cries and as I did, I began to decode what Domino was yelling. It was a state of emergancy, and I didn't have time to tell the higher management to stop following me. I opened the door to Domino's office and as the doors slammed open, her crying stopped. Unlike Domino's medical qualifications, her distress was real.
"Nurse Joy!" Hank gasped. "What is wrong with your hands."
"I couldn't save it," Domino cried. She held out her head hands and underneath all the blood was a piece of something. I scurried under the table and felt the urge to vomit. Below Domino's desk was a stillborn phione surrounded by blood and egg shells. The small corpse was badly deformed and decomposed. Poor child must have contracted the Hacked Syndrone by birth which could explain it's deflated body, and it's mangled and rotten state was proof that the egg was not stored in a safe place. The egg must have been kept in a damp area where bacteria thrives and allows pests to feast upon the poor fetus.
"What is it?" Hank asked.
"It's a stillborn phione," I announced. I gulped and swallowed both my own vomit and anger. Hank leaned over my head and rushed out of the room. He held onto his mouth and I knew he was running to the nearest bathroom to expel his sickness. I looked up to the higher management and said, "Can you get funeral directors and the appropriate paperwork please? Thank you. I will speak to Nurse Joy alone."
They all left and nodded without another word. As soon as Arthur closed the door after him, I double-slapped Domino three times and she panted at every hit. There was no holding back. I had done something that I had been wanting to do for a while.
"You killed a baby," I hissed at Domino. I glared at her as her chest protected one side of the cabinet.
"I wanted a shiny phione," Domino whimpered.
"What are you hiding in there?" My cheeks imploded and I tapped her gently in hope she would surrender.
"Well if it's nothing important, then why can't I see it?"
"It's none of your business."
"JUST LET ME IN!" I had no choice, I pushed Domino out of the way and opened the wooden door. The door spat out a nail as it hinged open. The cabinet was scattered with drugs: illegal drugs and strange concoctions along with those Instant Egg Drops. I pushed the door shut and looked down on Domino who threw herself on the ground as if she was expecting some sympathy. "I always knew that Instant Egg Drops were dangerous," I barked. "But now, I can see the true dangers of it."
"None of this would have happened if you accepted me as your master," Domino yelled. She pushed herself from the floor and her pink wig slipped off. Domino looked as if she had a hungover from a wild hen night. It seems as if I didn't slap the murderer enough. How dare she try to guilt trip me. The stillborn phione makes me even more glad that I didn't accept Domino as my trainer.
"You have gone far enough," I told Domino. "If you stay here any longer, you will kill many more of my patients." I turned my back on her. "I will turn you in and I will reveal the truth."
"NO MATRON!" Domino cried. "One more chance... please... I beg you."
Rubbish! She had plenty of chances to redeem herself and she took none of them. Every second she spent working in the wards was a chance to make herself a better person, but she chose profit over humanity. I hope I never see the wretched woman again.
"SPEAK TO ME!" I ignored her again and threw my attention to Officer Jenny who followed Hank into the room. Domino pushed herself against the wall. "What are the police doing here?" If Domino was a real nurse, she would have known that when a pokemon dies in suspicious circumstances it is the police's duty to perform a routine check.
"Nurse Joy is quite shocked," Hank explained to Officer Jenny.
"She would be," I interrupted. "She didn't expect her experiment to be such a failure."
"You stupid fat *****!" Domino screamed out her true colours.
"I'm sorry Domino," I told her. I didn't care if there was an audience. It was time for the truth to be out in the open. "But I'm not going to stand there and let you get away with killing my patients."
"Don't tell them," Domino screamed. "Don't you dare..."
"Tell them what?" I asked with my hands on my hips. "Don't tell them that you lied about your qualifications? You don't want them to know that you're a member of Team Rocket? Or do you not want them to know that you've imported illegal drugs into the hospital." I paused and then looked up to Officer Jenny and told her in a sincere manner, "Feel free to check this office."
"With pleasure," Officer Jenny announced. She blew her whistle and the room became surrounded by speedy growlithes. Meanwhile Hank looked at Domino with a disappointed look on his face as Domino was dragged out of the hospital by Officer Jenny.
So this is the censored version of Chapter 17. That's a good chapter.
Wow. For the past 2-3 hrs all I've been doing is reading this Fic! I'm new to the Fic section, and I've seen this bunches of times while looking for a good journey/PMD Fic, but I got curious when I saw the 2012 FF Awards Nominations. Somebody nominated the Pregnant Mew Chapter for Most Heart Warming/Breaking, and I loved it so much that I jumped into it. And there's not a single word that I regret reading! This is the absolute best Fic I've ever read! Not that I've read many, but I personally like Fic chapters at the length you have them. I've tried to jump into others, but I feel like I can't read another word, and I only get half way through the chapters. This is a little weird, but this is just a clean (as far as cursing goes), Poke-fied version of General Hospital; one of my mom's favorite shows. I sat down for 5 minutes and couldn't watch it, but the second I read half of the first chapter, I fell in love with this! My favorite episodes (in order) are:
Pregnant Mew-not the best images, but it was just so sweet and sad, especially when Mew said "Can I hold it? I never get to hold the child." It made me cry.
Holiday Child-Loved Blissey's reaction to Spiritomb being Lavender's dad. You probably can't answer this question directly, but does Blissey actually have feelings for Spiritomb? And, as a side note, how would Minerva even get Spiritomb's sperm? EDIT: Changed my mind; I don't want to know.
Alder's Death- Reminded me of when my uncle died just a month or so ago. So sweet the written, but sad. And you said you based it off a personal experience, right?
Mr. Fierce chapters- Surprisingly, I didn't fall as in love with Mr. Fierce as some others did. Not until heard the whole story, that is.
Nurse Joy's Secret- Ooh, did NOT expect that! Very surprising plot twist!
Staff Meeting- Wow, now I am almost 100% sure Domino had something to do with Minerva's 'little injection plot' Now I'm starting to question Minerva's jealously to Little Wit. I understand she was jealous because she didn't get as much attention as Little Wit, but I have some theories
A) Minerva was desperate for attention, so she went to Domino for help,
B) Domino made a deal with Minerva to get back at Blissey for something that might have happened in the past, or
C) Minerva + Domino are secretly out to get Blissey for some reason, so they worked together to try and get back at her.
Add me to the PM list, please.
Last edited by Keldminrachi91; 24th February 2013 at 9:40 PM.
Heya hunni, im gonna attempt to review the first chapter for you, hope im good at it
chikorita the alcoholic, oh myThere is also an obvious scent of vodka on the chikorita's breath.
The opening had made me want to read on, the point of view from Blissey is something completely original especially in this particular enviroment so you deserve credit here. The only thing i think could be improved here is, i know you went in to the Chikorita's alcohol poising but i would have liked to see a major operation going on in the first scene, something like a Pokemon dying, a big rush of action, but nether the less i love the opening the way it is too.
The last section of this doesnt really make sense to me, maybe ' I recommend that the next time your trainer gives you alcoho, the thing to do is to say no."Once you leave hospital, I recommend that the next time your trainer gives you alcohol is to say no."
intenseTime was a matter of life and death
the only real problem ive had up untill this point is decription, you sprinkle fragments here and there but you never really dwelve deep with creative writing. This is just something i personally like, for example a couple of similies, meataphors and so on, this will help to decribe the setting, personalities and emotions, things every reader wants to know about, well i do anyway.But ofcourse there are some readers who like everything to be staright, straight to the point but youll be surprised how description can really make a big difference. However a good element of this you already have which is your wide range of vocabulary, which is making the story so mch more interesting.
i have to appluade your surreal mixture of abstract concepts and real life ideals, not to mention these work ethics. There was abit near the beginning too, that the immune system couldnt handle a full recovery, its a very intelligent way of intersecting real life dillemas with that of the pokemon world.I was slapped on the back by a pink tail. Curiously I turned around and saw some beedrill zoom a mew into the hospital wing. I opened my mouth in awe. I hadn't seen this pokemon in many years. No doubt that everyone would work extra hard to give this one a speedy recovery as they are an endangered species. After all, we've all made our vows to preserve life, but we should apply that vow to all our patients.
Is that all?" I asked. Why should this pathetic trainer be praised for feeding alcohol? I sometimes feel that Nurse Joys are far too lenient on these brats.i was gonna say something about personalities within your story untill i came across this, from, this alone you can see how dedicated Blissey is to her work, although its only the first chapter i would of liked to see some more characterization, the personalites are so far lacking for me personally. There is nothing that stands out for me with these characters so far and i really want to feel for them.I opened my mouth with sheer horror. "You can't use that word in a professional environment like this. You shouldn't be using it all." Every time I hear that word, my stomach curled as I cringed. Retard was a horrible word
The ending was great! I take half back what i said about the persoanlites, Nurse Joy is great, haha i find her the most interesting purely because of the last scene, i love it.
Im not too sure what the entire plot is at the moment, not enough info to go by but a great execution for the introduction to a simple, yet interesting concept and first chapter. The techniques of real work mechanisms and the pokemon world have blended beautifully, this just has to stay consisdent, its the best intersection of ideas ive ever read, and you dont go over board too, it just works. The pacing of the chapter was fast, but wasn't rushed, a perfect balance in other words, the only thing for me was i didnt really dive deep enough into it, i wanted to but the chikorita didnt grab me as much as i wanted it to, i understand this is the first chapter but still, hinting at something much, much more bigger could of been implemented. I know you kind'a do this towards the end but i wanted more, but i guess thats the joy of the other chapters.
Overall the ending has certainly made me want to reado on, you leave some peculiar questions to the reader, what happened to Cyrus? why is nurse joy such a tool? Things that i believe should be in every ending, its an excuse for me to read on, i want to know the answers and im sure ill find them out. You've created an original fic that derserves praise, well done hunni x
sorry I can't spell
Last edited by LadyLady; 24th March 2013 at 6:22 PM.
For everyone who likes stories you can read my first ever fan-fic here!
Episode Eighteen: Unhappy Patient
The way Domino left the hospital left such a nasty aftertaste for me. I told the truth to all the pokemon staff and told them all to carry on like a normal day. If they had a problem, they could come to me and I could sort it out. Following Domino's departure, I felt the urge to check all of her regular patients and the one one that was on the list was a wild dragonite in room 12.
Three months ago he crashed into a ship, cracked his skull, broke both his wings and torn the ligaments in his wings. It didn't take him very long for him to develop a pressure ulcers because Domino told the staff not to turn Dragonite about. He was stuck in the same place for a month so no wonder he's so unhappy in hospital. He is expected to spend another six months in hospital and must undergo lots of operations. On top of that, he's on the waiting list for a liver transplant. On a good day he can be very funny, but on a bad day, he can be very rude and racist.
Pressure ulcers are a very unpleasant business. There's four main stages of pressure ulcers and the healing machine can only heal stage one ulcers because it can't repair thick tissue loss or bone exposure. Which is why we have to avoid patients from getting pressure ulcers, things like making sure patients are comfortable, well nourished and making them as mobile as possible can all reduce the risks of these bed sores.
"Where am I?" Dragonite asked. "I want to complain about Nurse Joy."
I don't think Dragonite knows, and I'm not sure if I should say it yet. "What would you like to complain about?" I closed the blue curtains around me so that the patient could have some privacy.
"I LOVE BLACK PEOPLE!" Dragonite shouted in pride. I'm sure he's a huge fan of Iris, Unova's dragon-hugging champion. "THEY TREAT YOU LIKE A MEMBER OF THE FAMILY. NOT LIKE THE WHITE TRASH LIKE SHITTY NURSE JOY!"
"What did Nurse Joy do to you?" I asked. I know she doesn't like white humans very much, but that's a legal reason to complain. Being a wild pokemon, he probably doesn't understand anything about the social forms of conduct and how humans in society work.
"She dumped me here," Dragonite croaked. His entire body was covered in bandages and he was trying hard to get out of them. "The medicine sucks. The food sucks. The staff are useless and the patients are disturb my sleep."
"She's not here anymore," I said, thinking it would make him feel better.
"Nurse Joy no longer works for us. We will be getting a new nurse soon."
"It only proves my point," Dragonite announced. "You need to stop hiring white human doctors: they're rubbish!"
"I don't do the hiring, it's the Human Resources and Head Office that do all that."
"IT'S A ****ING SHITHOLE IN HERE!"
"Would you like to use the litter tray?"
"It's under your bed." I picked up the tray from under his bed and showed it to him. Since Dragonite is a big pokemon, the tray was about half the size of his bed.
"You can eat it if you want," Dragonite hissed and whipped the tray into my chest with his tail. "I don't eat rice."
"This isn't rice, this gravel. For you to have number ones or twos in."
"I've already got a toilet." Dragonite shook his head. "No! Take it away."
I've got to document that in the care notes so the other staff can know. On the tracking sheet, I wrote the date, the time and my signature. In the space next to it I wrote; Refused litter tray. Litter tray has been removed by the request of the patient.
"If you need to go, ring your bell and someone will help you," I told Dragonite as I took the litter tray with me out of the room. Since it is clean, I can use it for Red's Pikachu. I shouldn't really in case of cross-contamination or risks of infection control, but we've ran out of litter trays and Red's Pikachu really needs one. I'm not sure why Red brought his Pikachu to our hospital when there was one just next to the cave to Mt. Silver, but it didn't matter now.
Red's Pikachu needed my help and I had to save his life. It didn't matter weather the trainer was a triple murderer or a pokemon champion.
I feel like you really captured the way a wild Pokemon would tract to being in a human made environment like a Pokemon center really well. I just have to say one thing about the last paragraph though... WHAT THE HUH????
Hey, you! Yeah, you! No, not you in front, you there who likes pokémon. Do you like the animé? Do you ever think you'd like to use pokémon and battle like they do in the show?
Look no further than the
Pokémon Animé Style Battling League!
Come say hello in our Time Out thread and we'll get you started on a wonderful adventure. Training pokémon, fighting Gym Leaders, maybe even catching a Legendary pokémon? The choice is yours!
Announcement: Just noticed this fic was featured on TV Tropes. http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.ph...irclingBirdies
Last edited by ChloboShoka; 18th April 2013 at 2:09 AM.
That's great! Good for you man (woman, other?)
Hey, you! Yeah, you! No, not you in front, you there who likes pokémon. Do you like the animé? Do you ever think you'd like to use pokémon and battle like they do in the show?
Look no further than the
Pokémon Animé Style Battling League!
Come say hello in our Time Out thread and we'll get you started on a wonderful adventure. Training pokémon, fighting Gym Leaders, maybe even catching a Legendary pokémon? The choice is yours!
Just an announcement: I haven't started the new chapter yet because I've been so busy with other commitments like finishing college and starting a new job. Thank you all for your time, patience and understanding.
But I'm also here to announce on this thread that I am honoured to have won these two awards at the 2012 Fanfiction Awards which are Most Original Overall and Best Non-Romantic Relationship/Interaction. Again thanks to everyone who voted/nominated.
The next chapter will definitely be very patient focused and will focus on Red's Pikachu. I'll try to not spoil it too much but Red's Pikachu is left in a critical condition.
I'm also planning to write a one shot based on Spiritomb's point of view.
Too MuchI've literally been chasing my tail this week. On my way to Red's Pikachu, I had a Golem throwing rocks at staff to try and grab their attention. Since nobody went in to check on Golem, I slipped into his room to check how he was doing. He was in the room next to Butch's Shuckle who is about to be discharged soon. Golem frowned at his cheesecake. He was picking the berries out and wasn't attempting to touch the biscuit base.
"You call this food?" Golem asked. "What the bloody hell is it?"
"What have they done to all the berries?" Golem asked. Before I could reply he glared at me and said, "they ****ed it up that what they've done. There was nothing wrong with these berries. Until you lot messed it about. It's far too sweet."
Behind me was Golem's catheter and just looking at it made me want to cry. How the scrambled up bags were still flowing was beyond me. Why on earth did they put a lag bag on Golem's arm? Sorry Golem, I have more important things to deal with than cheesecake.
I walked out of Golem's room and shouted to Lucky. "Sort of this patient for me please."
She was given me that look. No, I'm not picking on you Lucky. Nobody is jealous of you because you're a shiny. Just get on with him. I had heard that Golem had fallen several times but none of the staff could be accurate with me. Perhaps Spiritomb would know.
Just as I was about to go to the electric ward, Spiritomb chased me down. Why they thought it was a good idea to give Spiritomb a 15 hour shift is beyond me. He clearly not in the best states of mind and I don't think he will manage to give patients the best treatment. He shouldn't be working. Whoever did the roster this week obviously had no idea about Spiritomb's hatred towards rock-types. How the rock ward managed to cope with Spiritomb in charge.
"Why is Butch's Shuckle still here?" Spiritomb asked. Oh dear, I thought to myself, here he comes with the racists comments again.
"Because he still has another week until his shell heals up," I explained. Shuckle appears to be safe enough to go home, but we have a very important policy that competitive patients cannot be discharged unless they are in fighting state. Shuckle's recovery is coming along nicely, but he'll need to continue this for another week and then he can get back to his normal life. "Anyway I've heard Golem's had several falls."
"Only three little falls."
"This is outrageous!" I cried. But it wasn't the fact that Golem had fallen out of bed that got me pissed off, it was the way Spiritomb said it as if it was no big deal. They might seem like little falls to him, but Golem's arms are covered in bruises and blood was oozing down his shell. Three little falls was a lot of rubbish. "How did you let a patient fall out of bed three times?"
"Rock types don't need nursing," Spiritomb stated. "I'd rather have a dozen Mr. Fierces than one golem."
"I don't care what type my patients are." It didn't take much for everyone to see I was fuming. "You were in charge in that ward. This is unacceptable practice. This hospital's good reputation will be ruined, and you could be released."
Spiritomb shouldn't be working, but he shouldn't be released into the wild either. The doctors who assessed Spiritomb and his capability to work caught him on a good day. He was as good as gold. I wish they were here so they could see what he's like on a bad day. That will give them some thinking. It just proves that thirty minutes is not enough to assess someone's ability.
"Well we shouldn't waste time on patients that don't need nursing," Spiritomb hissed. I don't know what's going on. We usually work so well together, but his condition is only getting worse. "We need to go and see Red's Pikachu... fast. He needs that injection."
"Do I even need to mention Golem's catheter?"
"I asked Monica to put it on his arm," Spiritomb said. "Or else the catheter would have burst if he fell on the bed."
"Well if you bothered to put the frame on his bed, you wouldn't have that problem."
I felt sick. Red's Pikachu was critically ill and I had to have an argument with Spiritomb. I had enough. Weather Spiritomb wanted to help me or not, I barged into Pikachu's room to check on him. Red's Pikachu had been hit by a motorbike; Officer Jenny's motorbike. The police will do nothing about it. They'll say that Officer Jenny was simply doing her job chasing criminals and we'll be blamed if Pikachu dies. Pikachu got intense burns from his against a heatran in Stark Mountain last month, but he managed to heal him in five seconds. If Pikachu's condition turns stable, he could be out in five days, but that's ONLY an "if", there are no guarantees that Pikachu will live. The crash cracked his skill, and the bones in his paws have shattered.
"Good evening Pikachu," I said.
Even though he's conscious at the moment, his blood pressure, pulse, breathing and temperature has been very inconsistent. The paramedics checked his blood pressure and each arm was on the other side of the scale. He's been bandaged up and he's got another catheter on him and the urine appears to be clear.
"How are you?"
"Wondering when I'll find a new trainer," Pikachu said in such a small voice. "I'm only a little pichu."
I knew he would have some form of memory loss, but I didn't expect it to be this bad. Red has his palms stretched out of the window. His cape covers his eyes, but not his tears. He was pressing against the glass as if he was hoping to fall in and touch his partner. Pikachu turned around to Red and turned back to me.
"Do you know who that boy is?"
"That's your trainer."
I could hear Red kicking the wall. When I looked up, Red had vanished.
"You found me one?"
"Pikachu..." I said, "Well you are a pikachu now. That man is Red. He is your trainer. You were involved in an accident so you'll be staying here until you're better. Don't worry, once Red calms down, he'll be back to see you."
Pikachu closed his eyes and from a typical point of view he fell back to sleep. From a medical point of view, he was out of conscious. It's Spiritomb who's in charge on the night shifts, but I can't finish my shift now. Spiritomb is being foolish and he needs help with supporting this ward. For goodness sake, why did they let him work? Yes, Spiritomb does need the hospital, but he should be a patient, not a doctor. A healthy pokémon will always be aware of it's environment. The fact that Pikachu still thinks he's a pichu and has no idea who Red is is a sign of some serious head damage. The hippocampus in the temporal lobe of the brain must be damaged.
I kicked the breaks off the bed and wheeled him out of the room. Mrs Swanna, one of the nurses came flying in front of me and asked, "Where are you taking Pikachu?"
"I'm taking him to the healing machine."
"What for?" Mrs Swanna asked. She was a decent nurse, but such a snooper. Her trainer's called Erik Destler who used to be a journalist for Serebii Express. He now has his own popular blog with a huge following. If Mrs Swanna knew what I knew about what spiritomb was up to, then it will be published worldwide by midnight. I'm not the one for gossip, so I'll try and avoid mentioning Spiritomb if possible.
"The healing machine will make Pikachu more comfortable," I responded. "The storm of cells once activated will also help recover damage to his hippocampus and the rest of his brain."
"Well if you say that so bravely it means that Pikachu will be out of this hospital in no time."
"Pikachu will need more than just a healing machine," I said. "It's a palliative precaution. He'll most likely need surgery and injections."
"What's his survival rate?"
"Red is one of the most powerful trainers in the world," Mrs Swanna said. "If Pikachu dies imagine how awful it would be for the hospital's reputation?"
"That will only happen if we don't do everything we can."
"I told my trainer about that Golem in the other ward," Mrs Swanna said. "He thinks it's crazy. He's going to report it. It's just shocking. It just shows that Domino's influence is still lingering strong. Can you believe it? Our own Nurse Joy perceived us."
"Have you ever heard of confidentiality?" Anybody could have heard what Mrs Swanna was saying and start to panic. The last thing this hospital needs is another scandal. I sighed, I'm not surprised one bit, but Mrs Swanna knows how to cross the fine line. Because she's not a human, she'll get away with it. It's ethically wrong, but that's the way it goes.
We reached the reception point where the healing machine was, it was free at the moment. I wheeled Pikachu into the healing machine and lowered the lid. I pressed the button and it made that sweet little jingle. When trainers hear it, they become relieved, knowing that their beloved friends are healed. I think that's why Domino managed to get away with it for so long. The healing machine is so easy to use, and they've just installed self-service machines near the back.
I'm quite grateful they've installed them because it means that we get more time to spend with patients who need more than a few seconds under the machine. I opened the lid and wheeled Pikachu away. He had one eye open and his breathing gave a faint breeze against my hand. Mrs. Swanna turned around and nudged me. Red had showed up again. His lips were frozen and there was no sign of him speaking anytime soon.
"Hello Red," I said. "If you'd like to follow me, we can go through Pikachu's progress and spend some time with him."
He smiled. It's still early days for Pikachu and he won't be able to battle for at least another six months, but that's if he survives. But there's a big chance that Pikachu might not be battling again. Pikachu's body will need time to heal, and his bones need time to recover. But the healing machine did what I wanted it to do: regain Pikachu's consciousness. He'll have to be closely monitored and Red will need someone to communicate with. I know he dosen't speak very much, but there will come a time where he will have to open his mouth.
Mrs Swanna and I were very quick, but Red managed to catch up with us and whilst we headed over to Pikachu's room. I opened a cabinet and collected an operation consent form for Red. "Okay Red, I've put Pikachu through to the healing machine to help him recover from brain damage. But the machine has not covered everything. There are still broken bones in his body and we will need to operate on him soon. But we can't do that without your permission."
"His heart has produced inconsistent heartbeats and his blood pressure is all over the place," Mrs Swanna said. "If left untreated, Pikachu will go into cardiac arrest."
"Because Pikachu has already lost so much blood, he is at an increased risk of getting ventricular fibrillation. This is where the electric activity in the heart becomes so chaotic that the heart either stops pumping or quivers. Because Pikachu is an electric type, his has more electricity flowing in his blood. A cardiac arrest can be very fatal. We will use a defibrillator, but in order to complete the operation we need your permission."
I filled in the relevant information on the consent form and then passed it over to Red. He read the document as if it were a long novel. He had to make his mind up. Would be allow us to perform an operation on his best friend or will he let him die to get away from the pain. There's a part in the consent form where it says that your pokémon may not be able to battle again or for a prolonged period of time.
It must kill him inside. I don't know what Red's thinking and I don't know what he'll do. He hasn't even touched the pen I gave him. He sat there as if he was petrified. The longer we wait, the more time we lose. I can't force him to sign nor can I force him to consent. I know the last thing he wants is to be bombarded with paperwork, but all it takes is just one signature, and then I can order the surgeons to get the operation table ready.
I've been reading your story for a while, but I'd been afraid to say anything. Though now I've gotten the courage to say something, and I have to say I really like your story! I especially like that all the medical things are right, because it always bugged me when I saw something that was inaccurate, since medical things actually interest me a lot. I also really love your characters, and that you include the Pokemon's typing in effecting their treatment/problem.
Sorry if that's kind of short, but I'm still quite a quiet person. May I be added to the PM list though?
Adopt one yourself! @Pokémon Orphanage
My signature is so empty now.
From One Champion To The Other
"Pikachu is my partner..." Red announced. "I am nothing without him."
Red had signed the papers. Mrs Swanna nodded her head and whispered to me, "I knew he would sign the sheet. He wants to think that Pikachu can survive." I rang the operation department and gave them the all clear. Whilst Mrs Swanna directed Red into the visitors room, Pikachu would have been transferred into theatre. There wasn't anything else I could do other than check to see if the operation is successful.
"The surgery is usually minor," I explained to Red. "We will administer medication that will put Pikachu to sleep and administer antibiotics to prevent infection."
Red gulped. "How long will it take?"
"The entire surgery will take a few hours."
"Do what you gotta do."
"Okay, I'll wheel him into the operation theatre," Mrs Swanna declared. About time she did something useful. It should have been easy, but as usual things get sidetracked. We were put to a halt by none other than Professor Oak. Spiritomb decided to stop in the middle of the hallway and watch what was going on.
"I've come to see my grandson," Professor Oak said. "Now who was it that I was going to see?" He pondered and scratched his head. "Did you know my latest grandson was born in this hospital?"
"At least I think he's my grandson... we were never married. Well he might as well have been my child, I was the only father figure Delia's son had and now his pikachu had a car crash. Oh I don't know what's the matter with me? Why do I keep thinking that Red and Ash are the same person?"
"I don't know," I said, patting his back. "Maybe you should see a doctor."
"I am perfectly fine," Professor Oak mumbled. He picked up his red pokedex from his pocket. It flipped open like a book. He slapped his head and grumbled again. "I can't remember how to work my pokegear." He was fiddling with the keypad as if he was racing against the clock to type out a letter. "I need to call my nephew Gary."
"Holy shit!" Spiritomb whispered to me. "He's got dementia."
"You shouldn't be swearing like that," I muttered back. Looking up to Professor Oak, I said, "That's your pokedex." Seeing Professor Oak struggling with his dementia was a strange experience, but not one that surprised me. Humans are living longer and everyone knows more about dementia. Professor Oak was still fully mobile and appeared to be orientated in time and space, but his memories appeared to be jumbled up. He can't distinguish individuals or genders anymore and that's a worrying sign.
There are drugs to slow down the process and ease the pain, but it's only going to get worse down the line. I don't see him being allowed to work anytime soon, but I can't imagine Professor Oak having a desire to retire. He gets the children of Pallet Town to run errands for him, and he's got plenty of people around him. Makes me wonder why they didn't spot the signs of him deteriorating sooner?
"No wonder," Professor Oak groaned. He used to have such a nice and sophisticated voice but now it only shows signs of his age. "Now I was going to see Red. Red's Pikachu got hit?"
"Let me take you to the visitors room," Spiritomb said. "Red is in there."
"That's right," Professor Oak said. I normally hate it when Spiritomb uses his psychic powers to get his way, but it's actually done us a favour. "You better be looking after that Pikachu!"
One obstacle down. Mrs Swanna was wheeling Pikachu off as if she was in a race with me. I don't blame her; Pikachu's could go into a sudden cardiac arrest at anytime. If that happens, Pikachu could die in a few minutes.
Little Monica brightened up the corridor and swept from the end of the hallway all the way over to me in a matter of seconds. Grass-types are slow, but a sunny day plus chlorophyll combination double their speed. Many of the grass-type staff use this method to rush around, but it isn't always the best option. Sunny Day also powers up fire type moves, so if a patient in distress, and that very patient knew a fire type move, it can get ugly.
"What is it, Monica?"
"The champion of Unova wants to speak to you," Monica said.
"It's okay Matron," Mrs Swanna said as she opened the door to the operating theatre. "I'll take care of Red's Pikachu. We've got enough competent staff."
She must have known that I really wanted to be a part of that operation. Oh well, I guess it can't be helped. I looked down on Monica, who was only half the size of me and asked her, "So where is she?"
"She's in the pokemon centre lobby. She keeps asking for her Garchomp back the results have only just come through. I think he'll need an emergency amputation as well as a total pancreatectomy. The tumours in his tail where so intense. By cutting the tail off the cancerous cells will spread at a much slower rate."
"Do you have the results of any scans and tests you took?"
Monica passed me a folder containing copies of the scans and the results of the tests. I can see what she means, and I can tell that this Garchomp has pancreatic cancer. I know it seemed rash to make a diagnosis without even meeting the patient, but the documents make it hard and clear that he's in the advanced stages and would not have long to live.
"I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR HOURS AND I HAVEN'T HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT GARCHOMP!"
I knew it was Iris screaming. I'm not going to make things any better for her. Her haxorus and her friend was trying to make her feel better, but it wasn't much help. No big hair could hide that girl's tears.
"Look Iris," the bloke next her said. "Someone's coming our way. Maybe they know something about Garchomp."
"Good afternoon Iris," I said.
"What have you lot done to Garchomp?" she asked. She spoke to me as if we had kidnapped her pokemon and taken it hostage"I want him back now!"
"The machine has detected that something wasn't right about Garchomp," I explained to her. "So we had to take him with us for a short while. I'm sorry that the wait was a lot longer than expected. Would you like to talk in a more private area?"
"I think that would be a good idea," the guy nodded his head as he wrapped his arm around Iris. I had a feeling by his smart appearance and green hair that he was a connoisseur.
"We've been in lots of pokemon centres," Iris said. "They've told me there was nothing to worry about it."
"What exactly did they say?" I asked.
"Garchomp's skin has had patches of yellow and has lost a lot of weight but the Nurse Joys said that it was just old age."
"Don't worry," the man cooed. "The nurse will help us out."
"I just want to see Garchomp," Iris cried.
"Take us to Garchomp's room," I requested; take Iris out of her misery before she disturbs anymore patients. Monica nodded as she lead us into the cancer ward. Garchomp laid crying out for it's trainer. I could see yellow patches that resembled rashes on his skin and his tail was thick yellow. Garchomp was unable to open his eyes. His arms were like twigs stuck on rusted slacks of metal.
"Garchomp!" Iris released herself from the man's grip and threw herself onto Garchomp's side. "Have you been calling for me? I'm sorry... I wish there was something I could do to take all your pain away."
"Iris... I'm afraid I have some very bad news. Garchomp has pancreatic cancer." Those words soon killed that short smile. Nothing sweet about it. Many would deny it. They don't want to here from a plump pink thing that their best friend has cancer... as somebody quoted a few years ago. "Looking from the results and the scans we've had, and from what you've told me. It's clear Garchomp's had cancer for a long time."
"Is there anything you can do?"
"We can make sure that Garchomp is as comfortable as possible," I replied. "Insert a syringe driver for drugs."
"What about surgery or therapy?"
"The cancer has spread too much," I said. "This cancer is very hard to diagnose and surgery is only successful in the earlier stages. Radiotherapy might help, but the side effects could cause a lot of distress to Garchomp."
"I'm Garchomp's daughter," Haxorus informed me. "Can you please make sure my Dad has something to eat? It might help him gain some weight."
"We'll put him on a feeding drip if that's okay with Iris," I told Haxorus. "We can only do operations with trainers consent."
"Lance's Dragonite is my half-brother and Cynthia's Garchomp is my half-sister," Haxorus told me. "So I'll expect that they'll be coming soon."
"So what are you going to do?" the man with Iris asked. "When will Garchomp be able to leave?"
"As of now, I don't think it would wise for Garchomp to leave," I said. "We will find the appropriate treatment for him, and you may also have to consider Garchomp being moved into a residential home."
"A what?" Iris yelled. "Cilan what is she talking about?"
"You mustn't worry," Cilan said. "It's only if the nurse and doctors can't do anything else for Garchomp." Cilan cradled her again and assured her that we would do whatever we can to help Garchomp have a comfortable and peaceful death. Iris and Cilan are travelling about, they'll never know where the next pokemon centre is until they find one. A PC box would not help them because Garchomp could still deteriorate and he would have no one to help him. He's going to need care and nursing 24/7. Garchomp would have to go to a home if there's not enough beds for new patients.
"Garchomp is not going to a home," Iris snapped. "Alder would still be alive if he hadn't have been dumped in one of them, and thanks to the nursing home's faulty equipment, Drayden can't walk anymore."
I don't blame her for hating on nursing homes so much after what happened to the ones in Unova. But there's one nursing home for pokemon near Candice's Gym that has a very good reputation. Not all care homes are prisons for the sick, you just have to do your research. The problem is that the health care sector have so many staffing issues, that when things go bad, they go really bad. Then the media blow it way out of proportion because they public and expose bad practice.
Poor Garchomp hasn't got long left to live. What Iris needs to do is to be strong.
Last edited by ChloboShoka; 18th December 2013 at 1:42 PM.