Special Contest Submission:
COVID19 2020
Love the Ones You're With: Tales of Lust and Caution from a World Under Quarantine
Essential healthcare workers are quarantined, trapped in a state of disaster. Facing a crisis of spirit, desperate cries for help are answered with love.
All characters made up to appear in this work of fiction are over the age of 18.
This story is a work of fiction - it never happened.
Any resemblance to real names or places are unintentional and coincidental.
However, my stories are often inspired by real events and experiences.
This is one such story.
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Doctor Jessica Cavanaugh washed her hands at the scrub station. And her arms, and her face, furiously working to clean the feeling of her last case off her body and out of her mind. It would be hours more before she could leave.
Damn this place,
and God only knows how many more patients tonight wouldn't ever leave.
Damn this place, God help me.
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The ER was crowded, slightly past max capacity, with patients on gurneys in the hallways waiting for rooms.
Actually, that part was normal.
The surreality was seeing everyone had donned surgical masks, even the patients. Lauryn Anders stopped for a moment, and consulted the status screens at the triage station.
How many patients do we have now ... and how many are assigned to my nursing section? *sigh* This is going to be a very long night.
The Coronavirus Pandemic hadn't stopped any of the regular life or day-to-day emergencies that filled up her hospital every night; it just made it all the more difficult.
What about the quarantine tent outside ... 3/4 capacity. Everyone with a positive swab is going in there right now, but if this keeps up we're going to have to limit it to COVID-19 care and accept the asymptomatic patients who need other medical help inside.
It was the last day of her seven day shift. Eight more hours, and then it was back to the hotel room for two more weeks.
I don't know if I can handle that again, the first isolation rotation was bad enough. I just want to go home.
Cardiac monitors burped a chorus of bass tones across the floor, mingling with the bells of assorted intravenous pumps and the few hisses of automated ventilators that could be heard. A low din of incessant chatter was impossible to hear clearly, but periodic whimpers cried out for attention.
The disorder is a refuge. I'm not really here right now. Just do my job, and become invisible in the chaos.
Lauryn looked back up, and her view brought a stop to the world around her. Dr. Jessica Cavanaugh was the general surgical intern on the current disaster rotation, and unlike most of the other surgeons, she had no problem descending to the mortal realm of the ER. Jessica was barely moving, standing ramrod straight, the pale white skin of her tense face and arms crossed over her chest were a stark contrast to the teal green scrubs that stretched with minor embarrassment around her ample bust, thick waist, and thighs. Lauryn's eyes locked onto her from behind. From her awkward facing angle, what she could see was mostly just wisps of hair that had escaped the high & tight ponytail - serious business in the front, a luscious cascade of jet black curls in the back. Engulfed in painfully bright illumination from the alien abduction lights standard in the shock/trauma rooms, Dr. Jessica Cavanaugh looked like an angel descended in heavenly procession.
Jessica's arm snapped out, smashing a fist against the steel panel on the wall. The procedure lamps went out, and the normal lighting had never seemed so dark before. Black curls whipped through the air when she turned and strode from the room, nearly colliding with the automatic doors that grudgingly yielded to her.
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I don't know what I'm doing here anymore,
Jessica thought to herself. Her palms flat on the bathroom counter, she braced on locked out arms and stared back into honey-amber eyes reflected in the shimmering, misty glass. Minutes passed, but she couldn't feel her arms or shoulders straining, her focus was lost somewhere in-between the mirror and her mind.