Bad News

Morning rolled around again, and John was awakened by the sound of a door opening. Above him was a plain, white ceiling. He sat up a bit, and after looking around, it became clear to him that he was in a hospital room. A nurse was coming in, bringing an IV stand and a tray of food.

"Good morning, John," she said brightly. "How are you feeling today?"

John stared at her for a second. She was an attractive woman, maybe 24 or 25 by his guess, with large high breasts over a slim waist and long legs. When she turned to close the door, John got a good look at her tight ass as well. All of this was made quite visible by her tight, thigh length one piece button-down scrubs and stockings. He hadn't thought real life nurses wore something like that, but apparently those costumes were based on a bit of fact after all. In any case, she wore it professionally.

Snapping back to reality, he replied "Fine, I guess. Umm, Miss, If I could ask, where am I? The last thing I remember was running through the woods..." John trailed off at the look of concern that had appeared on the nurse's face.

"Umm, let me change this IV, and I'll go get the doctor," she said, doing her best not took concerned. It wouldn't do to worry the patient.

John ate nervously as he waited, not liking the way the nurse had been looking at him. He was worried that something was wrong.

As he was finishing up, Dr. Mitchell came in.

"Hello, John. Do you know who I am?" John shook his head no. "Hmmm. John, I know that this is a bit disconcerting for you, but I've introduced myself to you twice already." The doctor leaned out the door. "Nurse, could you please bring a chair in here, and schedule me some time on the MRI," he yelled out into the hallway. Susan appeared at the door with a chair minute later. "John, I'm afraid we are going to have to run a few tests..."

They had run him though several scanning machines, and had asked him many questions, most related to what he could and couldn't remember. John didn't understand most of what was going on, but he was getting very worried as the fourth hour of tests rolled around.

He was wheeled back into his room for dinner, and Dr. Mitchell followed close behind.

"John, I wanted to update you on the results of the tests," he said, looking grave and unconsciously repeating what he had said the day before. "You're an intelligent young man, so I'm sure by now you have probably gathered that something may be wrong. I am going to be frank with you: It seems you have a very rare type of injury." John's heart sank when he said these words. "Our tests show that your brain this morning was very close to identical to the scan we took yesterday. Too close in fact. You see, John, we think that you have lost your long term memory." John was becoming visibly upset, so the doctor tried to power though in an attempt to calm him down. "It's a very rare disorder and we hope we can help you. We'll need to run some more tests tomorrow and see what we can do from there."

John sat quietly for a second. "You think," John muttered. "You think you can help me? What does that mean? Am I going to be like this forever? What am I supposed to do if I can't remember anything from day to day?" he screamed, close to hysterics.

"John, no please calm down, this isn't going to help, please just calm down," said Dr. Mitchell in a conciliatory tone. "We here at Sacred Heart are going to do everything we can to help you." He put a hand on John's shoulder. "I'm sorry I can't promise you more at this point."