Personal Narrative: The ER Waiting Room

Sunday The ER waiting room smelled stale. Sick babies and toddlers were crying, waiting to see a doctor. My brother was laying on the tan tiled hospital floor. He was shaking terribly as the antibiotics from the previous hospital wore off and the infection set in more. Both of his hands were red and swollen. His right hand, had a black mark from where the IV initially infected. His left hand was swollen to the size of a small balloon, kind of like a blown up rubber glove I used to get from the doctor when I was younger. My mom took her jacket off to cover him. His skin was hot to the touch but he was still freezing. His fever was 101.2 but there were no open rooms in the ER at our second attempt at a hospital. We had to get him antibiotics
and nausea medicine because if he threw up he would start bleeding again. His Mallory- Wisse legion would re-open and the bleeding would start again. My mom, my sister-in-law and I stood waiting for a room to open, hoping to get one before he could get worse. A nurse came in though the large tan doors that lead to the base hospital and yelled for Terry.