The Sun isn't Even Up
- Caitlin McGovern
- Jan 23, 2019
- 1 min read
A lady in her red scrubs-so red her skin gleams pale, walks into my spacious, quiet, white-walled room with her big, gray, cold metal cart full of goodies
Waking to the sound of the cart clanking, I know what time it is- 4 am to be exact The Sun isn’t Even Up
I roll onto to my right side sticking my right arm out fully extending it on the big, gray, cold metal cart full of goodies Still half asleep I can hear her slap on those greatly blue colored gloves and grab her tubes, tape and needles...excitedly
Still half asleep I can feel her prep my arm, wiping the spot where she’s going to choose that unlucky vein and stab right through it to take away something that’s so uniquely mine... My blood
Still half asleep I can feel my arm getting tighter and tighter from that wonderful piece of rubber tape she wraps around my upper arm The Sun isn’t Even up
Still half asleep I can feel my blood leaving my body and filling up four of her tubes
Still half asleep I can feel her finally take out that needle and covers the wound
Still half asleep I can hear her say she’ll be back later today The Sun isn’t Even Up