ICU Angel

The nurse leapt for Taylor's IV, cranking the wheel to the closed position.

"Keep that bag, it's evidence," the officer demanded, as the doctor flashed alight in Taylor's eyes.

"Mr. Polk? Mr. Polk?" Taylor managed a nod.

"Yeah, doc," he croaked. The doctor blinked, obviously surprised, but also relieved.

"Thank God!" the brunette nurse said, holding up the blood tinged IV tubing that had been in Taylor's arm. "The sheet beneath him is soaked," she continued, "He must've somehow gotten it out before too much got in." Ther others were obviously relieved, but his physician pointed to the monitor insisting they had to be careful, because 'some of it got in.'

The obvious was made clear enough by the next morning. Peter and Jane had been having an affair. They had decided instead of taking half of everything getting everything AND his insurance policy was the best option. Peter had tampered with the brakes. Or Jane had; each was venomously incriminating the other. A veterinarian, Peter had attempted to finish the job with a cocktail of potassium and succinylcholine. Most of that had leaked onto the sheets, thanks to the removal of the IV; only enough to convince the would be murderers that they had succeeded got into Taylor's bloodstream.

Taylor had chosen not to say a word about that; the last thing he wanted to do was get the woman who had saved his life in trouble. So he chose not to ask what Jane and Peter had said about totally ignoring Hope while they tried to kill him. And mentioning how she had kept him alive... He smiled at just the thought. And had made a mental note to ask the young woman out as soon as he was up and out of the hospital.

Given what had happened to him, it was understandable that the hospital administration wanted him off of the ICU, where other families already stressed had been treated to a scene out of Grey's Anatomy in real life. A single room 'became available,' and as the sun set, his first day post-op, transportation and the Orthopaedic floor intake nurse moved Taylor—in his bed—to the elevator for the trip to the third floor.

Admittedly feeling a little anxious, Taylor was relieved when Hope gathered her things and joined them on the elevator. Figuring he could finally at least thank his guardian angel, Taylor spoke after the elevator began to move.

"Thanks for taking care of me, Hope."

"I beg your pardon?" the transporter asked, her eyes growing large.

"I'm sorry, not you... Susan," Taylor checked her nametag, "Although thanks for getting me to my new room... I was thanking Hope for saving my life... I think twice, in the last day." The other nurse beside him shifted uncomfortably.

"Hope?" Taylor glanced at her nametag.

"Hope," Taylor laughed, guessing they were having fun with him, "The pretty blonde nurse behind us in the corner of the elevator." The women exchanged a telling glance.

"We're the only ones in the elevator, sir." Ignoring the flare of pain, Taylor sat up, craning his neck to see the empty corner of the elevator where Hope had stepped. The nurse, Irene, patted his hand, whispering, "Hold on." She said nothing more until after the transporter had departed. Then she sat down, a strange smile on her face.

"You said Hope?" she asked him. He nodded fervently. "Hope. My nurse in the ICU."

"Your nurse was Joyce, brunette, short, green eyes..."

"Yeah, I know Joyce, but Hope was the nurse who stayed with me." The nurse shook her head.

"That's not the way the ICU works." She scooted forward, lowering her voice, "You were in bed four, weren't you." He nodded. "Then you've seen the best evidence I can offer for proof that there's something beyond this life." He stared at her, puzzled. "Hope was a nursing student thirty years ago," the nurse continued, "She was doing a rotation on the ICU. On her way out to her car a man attacked her. She was... she was raped and murdered." Taylor's mouth had gone dry. "But every so often we hear about her... She's sits in with patients in room four... That's where they took her, trying to keep her alive after emergency surgery... It's where she died."

"That's not possible," Taylor stammered, "She touched me... I felt her... She was real!" Irene nodded.

"I didn't say she wasn't real," she told him, "She's real," she told him with conviction, "She's just not really here, anymore. I'd say you were lucky." He nodded.

"I was thinking of her as my guardian angel..."

"Honey, she's everybody's guardian angel when they get to room four. You're not the first person to thank her, but I couldn't tell you the story while Susie was around... It sort of freaks out some of the employees." She patted his shoulder, "Like I said, you're a lucky man. Now let's make sure Hope's efforts weren't in vain." She left Taylor to contemplate what he thought had happened...No, he knew it had happened. He shivered at the impact it had on his entire view of life. Smiling, he said a prayer for the first time in a long time, and drifted off to sleep...