The Spaces Between Your Fingers

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After years of dealing with diabetes, Bob's kidneys failed. He received a new kidney, as well as a new pancreas, but due to the oversight of an intern, developed a CMV (cytomegalovirus) due to his immunocompromised state.

“What kind of doctor misses a CMV?”

Bob could hear his doctor yelling from down the hall as he untangled himself from the bedclothes of the hospital cot. Bob had finally managed to do so when the same voice shouted, much closer this time, “Bob!”

Bob froze, leaning on his IV stand and beaming at his doctor, who was now in the room with him.

“Hey Doc. How was the phone call?” The doctor’s face was red, a vein bulging on his forehead. Despite his title, he looked like he wanted to kill someone in that moment. Instead of venting his frustrations, however, he simply sighed, saying,

“Bob. Please. Just get in bed.”

“I’m just trying to stretch my legs.”

“Bob!” The doctor took a steadying breath. Bob’s grin slipped slightly, surprised by the outburst. “ Bob...you don’t understand. You’re...you’re in trouble, Bob.” What was left of Bob’s smile was dragged off his face by the weight of the words. “When I say you need rest, it isn’t me just pulling something out of my ass. Your body needs all the energy it can have. So please. Either lay down by yourself, or I’ll call security and have them restrain you.”

Bob crawled back into bed.

CMV Mischief

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