Medical Three
Psychiatric Isolation Suite 116-B
“Hey, Cheryl,” she heard through her ambient shroud of anti-anxiety and pain relief.
She understood dimly that the medical waste management engineer was picking up the trash. This wasn’t a feeding. The little Asian people took care of that. This was a man, a big man, not fat—like, like someone she knew once, but dressed up in medical scrubs, scrubs th…