Who visited his psychiatrist, at him to have a look,
That revealed to him to be nothing more but a crook.
Daily Post: Inkling
Midnight and I was squandering the time away gabbing and making jokes with some of my co-workers in a little room where the Hematology interns stay during the day. All my patients were sound asleep, and I myself, at some point in time, must have unknowingly fallen into a similar state because, by the time I checked my electronic charting in the computer, the clock read ten minutes to six. Two tasks highlighted in red appeared on the screen alerting me that medications were not given at 3 AM and at 4 AM.
I flew to the dispensary (med room) and gathered the medications for my patients then proceeded to room 104 firstly. Lying in bed was my patient, a husky septuagenarian. His son, of middle-age, was sitting comfortably on a chair right next to him. It was dim and the only light source came from the window. Outside, clouds covered the entire sky.
“Good morning … Pills.”
He turned to his son seeking some sort of clarification. His son whispered to his dad’s ear, then extended an arm toward me, saying in effect he will be undertaking the task of administering his dad’s medications. I handed them to him, and before I could exit the room, saw him slip a shiny capsule of beige color into his dad’s mouth. The latter bit on it and white serum gushed out. He took his time savoring it, although I doubted it couldn’t had been that flavorful. There was another dose of the same capsule in the medicine cup, but as I was racing against time, I didn’t stay for the giving of it.
No sooner had I left the room when I was called to return. I entered. Sitting beside the window was a young man in his early twenties. In his hand was the shiny beige capsule.
“What did you say the name of this medication was?” he inquired.
“Mercaptozosazole1,” I answered.
The young man proceeded to scrutinize it, sniffing it once, twice …
“No,” he said, “I don’t recognize this medicine. This is not one of grandpa’s medicines.”
The patient and his son now turned toward me, eyes perplexed and piercing. To reassure them, I made a promise to double-check, after all, home medications and the similar ones prescribed to patients admitted in the hospital can look different.
I began to tremble within nevertheless. I found myself in front of the patient medication cart next to the printer in the nursing station. Tried as I might to compose myself, my fingers however betrayed the endeavor as I fidgeted with the numeric pad, unsuccessful at opening the cart.
9 .. 7 .. 1 … 7 .. 6 — access code failed. Again. But it worked before. Why doesn’t it now? Did I scramble the digits?
It wasn’t so much the possibility of med error that harangued my conscience as it was the fact that I didn’t scan the medicine like I ought to. I remembered clearly how I ripped the silver packaging and put the pills into the medicine cup, undeniably certain I had the right medicine for the right patient. My being remiss in that responsibility was the source of my overwhelming guilt. So, there I was facing the medication cart, restlessly entering digits that did not avail.
“Can’t open it?”
A little voice broke through my anxious thoughts. It was Jill.
“Let me try.”
I stepped aside as she proceeded to enter the code into the numeric pad. I looked over her left shoulder to see where I had erred. Apparently, I was not even close. She was keying what looked like 7 or 8 digits, which convinced me the numbers were that of her cell phone.
Then a most singular thing happened — Just like that, she completely abandoned what she was doing and proceeded to chat with Leo.
What the hell, Jill?
I was never able to open it. Feeling trapped, I opened my eyes. And that was the end of it all.
Notes: 1Mercaptozosazole is not a name for a real drug. It’s probably a portmanteau of Mecaptopurine and Fluconazole (or Omeprazole … or any -azole drugs) that my mind decided to weave together during the dream.
The photographs that follow are from March of 2016, almost two years ago now. One can probably see that the images are that of a hibiscus flower, manipulated.
None of it would’ve been possible however without the inspiration of Tuba Korhan. I became aware of her work while musing over the once free Snap magazine app, courtesy of the producers of the same camera app. The images here are all but a flattering attempt. If you have the time, click on her name above to check her work. Apparently, she has a Flickr account, and by the looks of it, she went all out with the app and now I can’t figure out how she produces her images. Spectacular!
I myself forgot.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Variations on a Theme
Maybe … But, how would I know?
I am not a writer.
Weekly Photo Challenge: Silence
to sealed lips
Daily Propmt: Blink1/20/2018
Click! Click! Click! Click!
If it weren’t for the flower he mistook for food, the snapshot would’ve come out blurry as well, just like the rest of them. Flower saved the day!
Post-processing included a judicious straightening of the image because my tripod has its own notion of how a horizontal line should be. Classic chrome has a tendency to cool an image, and it turned out that it was just too bluish. So I warmed up the highlights a bit using a Color Balance adjustment layer and employing mask effected through Apply Image. I also lifted up the shadows on Zac’s face a tad bit. Then the usual sharpening and vignette.
Classic Chrome, XF35mm F2, Fujifilm XT2I shot Heisy using Classic Chrome film simulation that came with my camera. My original intention was for the two of them to be in this photo, but Zac just could not stay put. So, into the garage he went! I took a few shots really, but I prefer this over the rest. Kind of have to not go crazy with loading a lot of pictures here coz before I’d know it, I’ll run out of allotted space. I have planned to photograph other things, landscapes, seascapes, street, stills, maybe.
For now, it’s all about them dogs — dogscapes — test shots, getting to know the camera better while creating memories.
On the post-processing side, the usual … Photoshop: Curves, Vibrance, a little bit of sharpening, then created a fake vignette.