Snake in the ward

Michelle was humming along to a Yothu Yindi tune drifting from the radio playing on the nurses’ workstation. Her crisp uniform and her bouncy walk were radiating that first-day buzz. Today was her debut as Hospital Ward CNC- the new captain of the ship. It was a dream come true and a need at the same time…thanks to that bigger mortgage breathing down her neck.

‘No snacking today’, she kept repeating her meditation mantra in between humming the catchy lyrics. She could still smell fragrance of the incense stick that she lit for her morning meditation, feeling the calm. Unaware, that could be a lull before the storm.

Going through the patient order list, she was jolted by another nurse who approached her with a bemused smile and raised eyebrows. “Wardsman Pete thinks that he saw something… a little slithering reptile… in the side trolley in room 11. It might’ve been a red-belly snake”.

Michelle blinked and looked up from the computer screen. “Wait are you telling me there’s a snake… in this ward?” Her eyes darted back to the screen.

Great. One snake arriving soon and another lurking in the trolly.

“Well, I have not seen it. I was in room 9 with Mrs Bradshaw,” the nurse clarified. “Cathie is looking after Mr. Yarran Leigh in number 11.”

Michelle’s head swivelled. “Where is Cathie? Oh, there she is. Cathie, any chance Yarran brought a little snake from prison?”

Cathie’s face crumpled into a tired unimpressed frown. “If this is a joke, it’s way too early for it.”

“Fair enough. But could you check Yarran anyway? He’s due for his morning meds. Also, check with his guards, if they spotted anything unusual last night.” Cathie turned the nursing trolley with a nod and pushed it towards room 11.

Ward phone started to ring. Michelle picked it up.

“Michelle CNC Ward 9A- how can I help?”

The voice at the other end belonged to the head office, giving her the final heads -up about a very important visitor.

“Oh yes, we are all set to receive the minister. The ward is as settled as it can be. There are no shouty types here today. I’m sure his speech will be recorded nice and clear. Although, things can change fairly quickly chief, as you very well know.”

A pause, listening.

“Ten thirty? No worries. I will do the welcome, play nice and then introduce him to Mrs Bradshaw in room 9.”

Another pause.

“Ah yes. She’s agreed. Lovely country lady. Up for a chat with minister.”

Michelle supressed a groan as she kept the phone down with a solid clunk. Politics. Pep-talks, photo ops and the elections she cringed. Minister Brendon James, in particular, did fill her with abhorrence. He had not only attained notoriety for his mendacious propaganda, but also for his dubious conduct in the matters of money and relationships. He managed to charm simple minded citizens like Mrs Bradshaw or sometimes spooked them to side with him, at the time of elections. He was still the same. Perhaps worse from their school days in Cootamundra. A constant grin under his golden lock of hair and punch lines hurled at her- it was all coming back to her. She can’t believe that she fell for him then. Ugh.

Her hand drifted towards the emergency chocolate bar saved in the bottom drawer. ‘No snacking’ she mumbled, pulling her hand back with a shudder, as if it was evidence at a crime scene. This was her first day into the big job. Snake or no snake, politician or no politician-she was going to make it work, no matter what. Even if it meant enduring minister Brendon James’s smug grin, one more time.

Cathie burst out of the room 11 like she was running to escape a fire.

“Michelle!” She gasped, “there is a snake in this ward! I swear I saw it slithering into the bottom drawer of the side table. Small, black, red… honestly. Yarran says he brought it from the prison yard. As a companion, apparently to accompany him to the hospital.” She was still huffing and puffing like a broken kettle. Michelle, meanwhile was screaming internally. She stuffed surging panic into her pocket, and marched straight to the room 11- where two officers were engaged in philosophical discussion about the footy stats.

“Officers,” Michelle said, channelling her inner unrest into action, “Yarran needs to be moved out of this room immediately. Pete’s taking him to the patient waiting bay. Do either of you know anything about the snake that came with him from the prison?”

Both officers looked at each other as if stumped. Then blinked again.

“That’s…Uh…impossible.” One said, “I mean one can sneak in a nail file or some illicit chewing gum but a live snake? Yarran is doing time for burglaries and has got skills, sure, but we’re talking about a live snake.”

“Well, this is officially your circus and your snake, Michelle snapped, already walking away. “I am calling for a snake catcher- we don’t want any one getting bitten.”

Back at her desk, Michelle issued code Yellow for an internal emergency, telling staff to confine every patient into their respective rooms and to keep No. 11 door firmly shut.

Pete was pushing the bed, with Yarran lounging on it, half sitting, half reclining, wearing a grin, handcuffs dangling from his wrist like questionable jewellery from a rebellious magician. Yarran looked at the officers and smiled, “It was stuck to the ladder in the prison yard,” he said it with Panache of a liberator. “I freed it. It is Yurlungur the rainbow serpent. I have fed him last night; he is good to go now.” Both officers appeared unhinged, but uttered nothing.

There was a flurry of activity in the ward. Staff were darting into rooms, closing doors and giving hurried updates to the patients. Michelle decided against using public address system, thinking it would spread panic rather than caution among the frail patients. She was on phone, aided by an associate, updating the chief medical officer.

“They are saying, it will be about an hour before he can get here to catch the snake- hopefully just in-time for the ministerial appearance.” Michelle reported, “I have issued the code yellow and we are following all procedures. The snake is confined to room 11. The patient has been moved to the waiting bay. Everyone is safe. Would you like to divert the minister to another ward?”

“It will be very difficult to change plans at the last minute. Let us wait for the snake catchers. Hopefully, they’ll have it under control, before the minister arrives in the ward.” Chief replied, leaving no room for negotiation. Michelle smirked, rolled her eyes and kept the phone down.

‘I am going to die get me out of here!”

A loud scream echoed from the other end of the corridor.

Michelle and another nurse ran to room number 2, the source of commotion. Inside, Mr Patel was trembling, drenched in sweat, and perched anxiously on the edge of his bed.

“Mr Patel, we are here you are safe. Michelle said gently, moving to his side, “we’ve called for the doctors; they will be here soon. Can you tell me what is going on?” She knelt slightly to calm him down.

“I know, I know I am going to die from a snake bite!” Mr. Patel wailed in a high-pitched voice. “A palmist told me years ago. Look, it’s written clearly on my palm!” He thrust his right hand towards Michelle. “Oh no, this is it. This is how I go. Please get me out of here.” He kept sobbing, while Michelle and another nurse tried to comfort him. Just then, a doctor walked in, tossed out an inaudible greeting and went straight to the notes on the trolley screen in the room.

“Hello Mr Patel,” the doctor said calmly, “my name is Eddie Huang. I don’t know your details yet, but give me a few minutes I’ll figure it out and we’ll do the best we can. You’re safe, no need to panic.” Meanwhile, the other nurse clipped a pulse oximeter onto Mr. Patel’s index finger, and behan wrapping the blood pressure cuff around his arm, like she was tucking in a very nervous burrito. He was still trembling with softening sobs, his skin dusky and sweaty.

Michelle slightly hunched over Eddie Huang, staring at the screen. “He has a history of panic attacks, but been stable for last 3 days on current meds. This episode started after we told him about the snake in the ward, which is at the other end of the corridor”.

Eddie, who was still going through the notes, turned to Michelle with wide eyes. “A what in the ward? Here in this ward?” He forgot to blink for a short while. Michelle tried to normalise the situation as best one can do, “Snake catcher is on his way. Snake is contained in room 11. Everything is under control doctor. I honestly, have no idea how it got here.”

Oh… OK…” Eddie replied, eyes darting towards the corridor like he was mentally calculating how fast he could run in dress shoes. He turned back to the notes, now more confused.

“Mr Patel,” Eddie turned to Mr. Patel and asked gently, “have you ever encountered a snake in the past? May be in your childhood?”

That did it.

Mr Patel’s tremble turned into a full-blown shake. “Oh no,” he gasped, “I will die. This is it. Good bye.”

Eddie reached for his phone and dialled his consultant. They exchanged a few quick words, and he hung up and turned to Mr. Patel.

“Mr. Patel,” Eddie said, in a calm voice, well-practiced for such occasions, “it looks like you may have Ophidiophobia- a medical term for the fear of snakes. It can be quite debilitating. But don’t worry, we’ll give you a small injection now. It’ll help calm you down. Snake is all under control Mr Patel”. He looked at Michelle trough the corner of his eyes, while saying it. She nodded in agreement. Mr. Patel exhaled shakily, still not fully convinced. While the other nurse prepared injection and the doctor monitored Mr Patel, Michelle rushed back to her office to follow up on the snake catcher, who wasn’t there yet. It was 10 minutes to 10.00, about forty minutes before the minister arrived on his grand tour of the ward.

In the swirling chaos of ophidiophobia; reptilian and dubious guests, Yarran may have been forgotten she thought. She checked his medication chart, yes, he had not received his meds yet. She made her way to the bay, where Yarran was still half lying on a slightly propped up bed with his hand-cuffs, staring outside the window. Guards were fighting off a nap with the determination of someone who’d lost that battle before.

“Hi Yarran, I am Michelle and I have your morning meds.” Michelle got straight to the point. “Please tell me your full name and date of birth?”

“Yarran Leigh, 17 July 1997.” He replied with casual ease, “have they found the little fella yet?”

“They are not here yet. I am sure your slithery mate is safely lounging in the room. They’ll soon relocate him where he belongs”.

“Sister,” Yarran said, his tone calm and wise, “snakes are only as nice and as dangerous as you make them. They mirror your emotions. No need to be scared.”

His words unexpected and oddly profound, landed in Michelle’s ears like a quite thunderclap.

“Oh, I agree,” she said, forcing a smile as she tried to summon some concern for the reptile. “What did you feed him?”

“Just bit of an egg.” Yarran replied, unfazed. “Not really sure why I’m even here. I feel great already.” He took the tablet from Michelle with a cup of water and swallowed both with ease, then reclined into the bed like a man settling into a day spa.

I know who should be locked up in the prison, Yarran. Many such thoughts echoed loud in Michelle’s head. She then walked back to the nursing bay to find that a snake catcher had just arrived. Michelle handed over the code yellow notes to him. “At least two of our staff have reported seeing it in the side table. Patient has confirmed that he had brought it with him from the prison yard. There is no report of any biting, perhaps it is a baby snake.”

“How long was it?” The snake catcher queried, mentally preparing for a battle.

Michelle looked at Cathie.

“I could not see it fully, but it looked small, may be about… this long.” Cathie held her hands about a foot apart to show the length.

“Alright, thank you. I will go in and have a look. Please keep the door shut. Might take a few minutes.”

“Thank you.” Michelle took a sigh of relief.

Before she could enjoy this tiny triumph, she heard a familiar, stomach-churning noise- the sound of expensive shoes, trying to outpace moral decay. Minister Brendon James was slithering down the corridor, trailed by a media circus, hospital brass and a few unfortunate and unwilling doctors. He was all grins and platitudes.

“We are delivering world-class healthcare in this region! Look at the new women and children’s wing finished in record time, most advanced care facility in the country. We have spent over a billion dollars in improving the health infrastructure in this term, and more to come… when we’re re-elected!”

Michelle winced at every word Brendon spoke each syllable a mosquito bite to her soul. This is the same man who, in high school, once split open a younger boy’s skull in a fit of rage. Who’d made her school years a hellscape of weight jabs and cruelty. Now he stood here, with hair greying in all the right places and a smile polished like a showroom car. She swallowed a lump in her throat and wanted to ask, “What poisons the world mo more, minister? a deceitful life or a petty theft?” But she kept quiet. For now.

Brendon finished his speech to splatter of claps. He walked amongst the staff and patients shaking hands and splashing greetings with the same old mug smile on.

Then he saw her.

“Were you in Cootamundra high?… Michelle? You… haven’t changed a bit.” Brendon said with that grin on his face.

She met his eyes, summoning the courage inside her. Yarran’s words still echoing in her head “Snakes are only as nice and as dangerous as you make them. They mirror your emotions. No need to be scared.”

“You’ve changed Brendon,” she said, calm as cold steel. And, that’s a pleasant surprise. From incorrigible to… amenable. I never imagined you were capable of helping anyone- let alone entire communities. But it seems you are.”

His smile disappeared along with his sham confidence.

The snake catcher emerged from the room.

“I cannot find the snake. It is perhaps still lurking around here.” He announced.

Michelle looked at the minister, then the snake catcher. Neither worried her anymore.

Jeevak (AKA RaJeev Jyoti) is a KanYini volunteer author of this story

Jeevak

The Radiologist who Writes, Rights, and Unites.