Bernard: Diary of a 46-yr-old Bellhop - 1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Fateful Night

August 8^th. 10 p.m.The blinding red and blue strobing from the ambulance lights lit up the dark street. It’d been a silent evening until its arrival. Two paramedics rushed up the concrete steps to the midnight blue steel entry door on the far side of the long, rectangular apartment building. The lights from the ambulance painted a brilliant hue onto the otherwise dull, gray brick building. Even the trim was gray and all of it was falling apart.

Another medic followed after, steering a gurney down the steps. Their patient was out cold and stripped from the waist up. He had all kinds of medical apparatus on him, IVs, a breathing mask, and a defibrillator on standby. Finally, the two medics maneuvered their patient down and into the waiting ambulance.

“Ok, what’ve we got?” barked the voice over the radio.

“Heart attack and attempted suicide.” The medic replied in a professional, matter-of-fact tone.

“Any defib?”

“Shocked him twice. 46-year-old male, obese, two bad wrist lacerations, and ingestion of pills.”

“10-4, we’ll be ready.”

The ambulance pulled into the emergency department at Adams County hospital. It wasn’t a fully-equipped center, but it would have to do. The patient was near death. The doors on the ambulance flew open and the stat team ran out to greet them. In charge was a tall, handsome, young doctor named Jack Larson. They ran with the gurney inside and to a treatment room. There were four people working on him at once, but Jack kept order to the chaos.

“Nurse, type and cross-match his blood and start him on narcan.”

“Yes, Dr. Larson.”

“What’re his vitals?” he barked.

“BP is 90 over 50, pulse 135.” The lead nurse replied.

“Damn, too high. What’s our patient’s name?”

“Bernard Covington.” The other nurse read from the report.

“Mr. Covington? Can you hear me?”

“He’s out cold, doc. Cops said they found him like this, pills were right next to him.” One of the medics chimed in.

“How many and what kind?” Dr. Larson asked.

“It was Effexor, 50 mg. Had 30 pills filled, only 20 were found, and it was just filled.” The nurse drew the necessary blood and labeled it for the lab.

The doctor groaned. He hated seeing suicide cases. “All right, let’s pump his stomach, suture these wrists too. They’re pretty deep.”

“Yes, sir.” The nurse prepared the needle, cleansed the wounds, and very skillfully sewed up the wounds. He wrapped them in a thick, cushy layer of gauze and laid them at the patient’s side. “Damn, Dr. Jack; that’s the worst I’ve seen. Cops found a butcher knife with blood on it.”

Jack looked at the nurse in surprise. “A butcher knife? Damn, Bernard, you’d cut your hand off!”

“He’s stabilizing, Dr. Larson.” The nurse reported.

“Alright, go prep him and pump his stomach. Keep him on constant watch.”

“Yes, Doctor.”

The nurses and two assistants wheeled him away. An hour later, she returned.

“Doctor?”

“Yes?”

“We pumped Mr. Covington. He’s stable now.”

The Doctor shook his head. “Good thing after doing all that to himself. Guess he was trying to make sure.”

“Looks that way. Start him on soft food?”

“No, he’ll be able to eat in a while. Is he still unconscious?”

“Yes, but he should wake up soon enough.”

“Let me know when he does. I’ll be in my office.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bernard finally came to three hours later.

“What the—where am I?” He looked down at his wrists and saw the thick gauze wrapped around them and remembered. He gritted his teeth and swore under his breath. “Shit! Can I even get my own death right? I’m such a fuckin’ loser!” He pushed the button for the nurse to come. She arrived four minutes later.

“Well, hi there, sleepyhead. Wondered when you’d wake up.” She said cheerfully.

“Where am I?” he asked groggily.

“You are at Adams County Hospital, Mr. Covington. I’m Nancy, your nurse.” She shut off the alarm light and checked his vital signs on the monitor. “Looks like your numbers are back down to normal, since we got those pills out of you. You were in really bad shape.”

Bernard lowered his head in shame. “Oh. Damn.” He lamented. “I was kinda hoping they’d stay in and just finish me off this time.”

The nurse crossed her arms and shot him a look with her dark brown eyes. “Now why on earth would you want to kill yourself? You’re damn lucky to be alive. If you’d cut yourself any deeper you’d have severed the nerves. Your hands would lose function. How many of those pills did you take?”

“Ten. I wanted to make sure this time.”

She set down her clipboard, walked over and sat down next to him. “Sweet Jesus. Mr. Covington, how many times have you tried this?”

He scratched his silver gray hair. “Oh, this is the fourth time in the past 10 years. I keep getting a little braver every time.”

Nancy cocked her head. Her long brown ponytail that had rested on her shoulder fell to mid-back. She leaned her thin frame forward in the chair, adjusting her bright blue scrubs. “Is there someone I can call or refer you to? We have some excellent psychiatrists—”

“No, please. Don’t.” Bernard pleaded. “I’ve been to some of the best in this county, hell even in the city! No one can help me.”

She shot him a displeased look. “Every life is worth saving, sir. You’re lucky we could this time. Looks as if God doesn’t want you to visit yet.”

Bernard snorted. “I doubt he’d want anything to do with a loser like me. Um, Nancy, I’m starving, is the kitchen open?”

“Of course. I’ll get you something right away. You just thank your lucky stars.” She stood up, winked at him and left.

Bernard shook his head. “Nothing can save me.”

Nancy passed Dr. Larson’s office on the way to dietary. “Dr. Larson? He’s awake now. He’ll be a tough patient for sure. He wanted to die.”

Jack stood up and shook his head. “Damn. These are always the hard ones, aren’t they? Most of our patients want to live, not the opposite. You’re being extra nice, right?”

“Absolutely! There’s just something about someone who’s tried to kill themselves four times. I’d love to talk with him more and find out why he’s doing this.” She glanced up at the clock. “Better get moving. I’m on my way to get him something to eat.” She left the room.

Jack stood up and turned off his desk lamp and smoothed his tie down. What could possess a person to keep trying this? Jack sighed and glanced at his watch. “Time for rounds.”

It was three a.m., the graveyard shift. Small town hospitals at that hour were creepy places. It was so quiet you could almost hear every heart monitor on the floor. Jack arrived for his first visit with Bernard.

“Mr. Covington, nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Jack Larson.” He held out his hand for the man to shake. The tan hand gave a firm shake to the patient’s pale hand. Bernard’s ice blue eyes traveled up the white lab coat to the man’s flawless face, black hair, and steel gray eyes. Despite the doctor being very attractive; lust was the last sensation Bernard wanted to feel.

“Doc. Nice to meet you.” Bernard replied quickly as he shook the hand lightly.

Jack scanned his vitals on the monitor quickly and looked back at the man. “You’re recovering from this awful attempt, that’s something. You almost got what you wanted this time.”

“Wish I had.”

Jack pulled up a chair and sat down next to the large man. “Bernard, everyone has a reason to survive.”

The patient shut his eyes and groaned. “If you don’t mind Doc, I’m really tired. I’d like to just eat and go back to sleep for a while.”

Jack nodded and tucked his pen away. “Your body’s been through a big strain, you’ll be tired.”

“Especially a body this big.” He held out his hands over his large stomach as if he were pregnant. “I’m so sick of being obese, but I don’t think it’s in me to stop, as much as I’d like to.”

Jack caught the man’s eyes. “We all have the power Ber—”

Bernard held up his hand to stop him. “Doc, please. Don’t. My mom and family have tried all kinds of things. I only got fatter. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be surly, but things just haven’t gone my way for about the last 30 years.”

Nancy returned with a tray of food for him which he ate quickly in front of the doctor and nurse.

“Damn, I was starving. I guess if I’m gonna have to live, gonna have to eat too. Can’t keep my boyish figure without it.” He held up the clear plastic fork. “Ah, plastic utensils. The sure sign I’m under suicide watch.”

Dr. Jack and Nancy exchanged looks. Bernard saw and looked back at the food.

“I’ve tried this before, remember? Hasn’t worked yet. I keep getting saved by my neighbors or whomever. Besides, you guys are gonna watch me like a hawk, aren’t you?”

“You’re right, we are. Not only is it local law, it’s our policy here too.” Jack said. He stood up and patted the man’s arm. “You take care and get some rest. Maybe things will look clearer in the morning.”

Bernard snorted. “I doubt it, but thank you. Good night, Doc. Oh hey! Shoot, did anyone call my mom? I know she’ll be worried sick.”

Nancy checked the chart. “We didn’t find anything on you for her. What’s her number?”

Bernard stroked his large chin. “It’s 555-7260. She’ll be home. Trust me.”

The nurse grinned. “I’ll call her right away. Does she know you’re suicidal?”

“Yeah, she does.”

“Just curious, why do you keep trying to end your life?” Nancy asked.

Bernard sighed loudly. “I just have a whole lot of nothing going for me. I’ve had the same job, same apartment, and same look. If I’d try to change, it’d always fail. I can’t take the rejection anymore.”

“Well you’ve got to hang in there, Bernard. What’re your goals and dreams?” Nancy asked cheerfully.

What the hell, tell her. He sighed aloud and looked over at her. “I wanted to be a lawyer when I was a kid. Set up my own courtroom and everything. Got good grades in school, did everything right. Then my college dreams were vanquished.”

“What happened?” Jack inquired.

Bernard shook his head and he fought tears. “I can’t talk about it…please; can I just eat and get some sleep?”

Jack and Nancy shared a look. “Of course. We’ll let you rest. There are tissues next to you. Remember, one of us is always here, and you’re under supervision, so no tricks up your sleeves, alright?” Jack finished with a serious look. “Good night, Bernard.”

“Good night to you both.”