path of IV tubing until it reaches the bag of fluids hanging above me. I know zip about medical shit, but I’ve watched every single episode of Grey’s Anatomy, and I’m pretty sure, unless you’re getting a fucking blood transfusion, IV tubing shouldn’t have blood inside it. Nor should it be filling the IV fluid bag.
The room turns to chaos in a matter of seconds.
“Shit,” Sara mumbles and quickly yanks the IV out of my arm and holds pressure. The blood-stained IV fluid shoots out of the tubing and onto the floor, and Molly scrambles around for gauze pads and God only knows what else.
Circus music plays inside my head, and blood loss aids in the hallucination of an elephant or two on my chest.
“Sorry about that, Mabel,” Sara says and grabs more IV supplies, which I can only assume will be used on my opposite arm.
Surely, the first arm is momentarily out of blood.
“Sometimes these things happen with IVs, but we’ll get you all set here in a few minutes.”
Freaking Bruce and freaking Groupon. After this, I am done with questionable discounts on retail.
I mean, what’s next? Is a monkey with cymbals going to bounce into the room to remove my tooth?
Fuck, I hope not.
Dear God, it’s me. Maybe. Please get me out of this surgery alive.
“Not going to lie,” I whisper past the nausea that is now creeping its way up my throat. “I’m not feeling so hot right now.”
“Oh dear.” Sara’s eyes go wide when she makes eye contact with me. “You look a little pale.”
I’d say that’s par for the course at this point.
“Just take some deep breaths,” Molly encourages like she knows what she’s doing. She talks a good game compared to her actual skills. “Once we get a fresh IV in you, we’ll give you some medicine to make you feel better.”
My eyes turn to saucers. “You’re going to do another IV?”
“This one will work,” Molly responds with confidence that is truly mind-blowing after the serious fuckup she’s still trying to clean up. “Just close your eyes and try to relax. This will all be over soon.”
“I just have one request.”
“And what’s that, sweetie?”
“Please don’t kill me.”
Both nurses chortle like I’m joking, but I’m not.
Seriously, God, please don’t let them kill me.
“Time to wake up, Maybe,” someone whispers into my ear, but they sound like they are talking underwater.
I open my eyes, and everything is blurry and fogged.
I take several blinks, but nothing clears up.
Am I alive?
“Hello?” I ask into the blurred void of my surroundings. “Is anyone there?”
“I’m here. You’re going to be okay.”
I try to figure out where the voice is coming from, but all I can see is a dark blob with blond hair. And Good Lord, it’s terrifying.
“It’s time to go home,” the voice says again, but this time, the blob is gone and a bright white light fills my view.
Oh shit. Is that the light?
The “you just kicked the bucket, and now it’s time to cross over to the other side” light?
Ah, fuck. I knew it! I knew this shit was going to go sideways!
Those damn nurses killed me, and I’ll never even get the chance to yell at them for it! It’s not like they’ll get punished. Bruce is way too cheap to hire a lawyer to initiate a medical malpractice lawsuit. Plus, there’s probably some fine print in that Groupon that prevents it.
“Here’s your phone and your belongings,” the voice says and sets a bag in my lap.
As if I need my phone now.
I mean, AT&T has always given me pretty great service, but I doubt their cellular networks are good enough that I’m able to browse Instagram in the afterlife.
“He’s going to be here any minute. You can just relax your eyes for a bit, okay?”
He? As in God? God is coming to get me now?
Who would’ve thought He even has the time to meet and greet every new arrival?
Consider me impressed.
Also, though, slightly panicked too. I know He created me, but I would prefer to meet Him when I’ve had time to put on some damn makeup or fix my hair.
But the fatigue that apparently comes with death keeps my ass firmly planted in whatever place it currently resides. So, I just let my eyes fall closed and wait for God to come pick me up.
Surely, he’ll understand that death by Groupon surgery isn’t the easiest to bounce back from.
Something vibrates in my hands, and I pry my eyes open to find a plastic bag