Chapter 23: Murphy's Law

I woke up back in the ICU, sandwiched between beds of patients with every tube imaginable in them. When I did my personal inventory this time, I found a few more tubes than I normally had to contend with. I had an IV, but it exited from just below my collarbone, instead of from a hand or arm as usual. I couldn't see it, but there were a lot more attachments on it too. I sat up carefully and noticed a catheter - the bag was empty - and another IV in my opposite hand. I also had a tube going up my nose, which constantly made me feel like I needed a Kleenex, and seemed also to be making my throat tickle. As I looked around I realised I had a gaggle of monitors, most of which were portable on individual wheeled stands, and very few of which I could comprehend. I was almost afraid to know what had been going on with my body while I was away.

A nurse bustling by gave a high pitched squeak when she saw me sitting upright, pulling angrily on the tube in my nose. She pushed my hands away, but it was too late - the stupid thing was out, and after a moment of coughing and gagging I felt much better. She confirmed I had been unconscious again for a couple of weeks, but was deliberately vague on any other details. She was definitely antsy, and finally ran off to get the doctor without telling me anything.

I was contemplating trying to change into my own clothes again, wondering what to do with the tube near my collar bone, when the doctor arrived. He looked ten years older than he had the last time I'd seen him. His smile when he saw me was entirely fake, and it occurred to me that he might be feeling responsible for whatever strangeness my body had been going through the past two weeks.

He confirmed for me that I'd been out for two weeks, which seemed about right although I'd forgotten to keep track exactly in Ferelden. Apparently I'd been causing some problems, and had managed to destroy a variety of hospital equipment twice since the last time I'd been awake. He didn't phrase it like that, citing electrical surges and power outages, but it had now happened three times, in various parts of the hospital, always to equipment near me. Unfortunately, I'd never been hooked up to an EEG monitor when it happened - I wondered what the pattern would have looked like. The hospital, unable to figure out what was happening, had put me in an isolation ward, where I stayed until the day before.

I ended up back in the ICU because, out of the blue, the day before I woke up, blood had started fountaining randomly out of my arm. Apparently my blood pressure had dropped, and I lost more than a litre of blood onto the floor, but when they finally got to examining me, could find no source for the bleeding. Worried that it would happen again, they put me back in the ICU with all the monitors and the new IV - apparently called a 'central line'. The line could allow someone to monitor my blood pressure at the same time as giving medications or fluid or whatever, and could stay in place for a long time, instead of needing to be changed every few days like the one in my hand.

The tube in my nose was apparently a source of contention. Some other doctor who'd been called in to help out when I started bleeding everywhere found out that I'd been in a 'coma' for two weeks without being fed and had a fit, forcing the issue and getting hospital administration involved, until finally the tube was inserted to provide me with food until I woke. My doctor felt it was unnecessary, because like before, I had lost only a tiny amount of weight, hadn't needed to pee, and wasn't showing any sign of malnourishment. Even after all the bleeding, the lab could find nothing abnormal in my blood. I wondered why I was still hungry in Ferelden while I was being fed at home. Maybe healing means I needed more food than usual?

I showed him the new scar on my forearm, explaining that I had been injured in my dream. I didn't tell him about the templar thing, but implied that I was aware the monitor outages were probably my fault, claiming a long-standing "anti-technology" issue that broke computers and watches all the time. Knowing I might not have long before blacking out again, we decided quickly for me to do the paperwork refusing tube feeds and other procedures unless my lab work said that I was becoming malnourished, or otherwise ill. I asked about removing the central line, but he convinced me to leave it, and just detach all the tubes feeding into it, so that I wouldn't need another if the problem happened again. I also signed paperwork refusing a catheter. Worst case scenario, they'd have to deal with me in adult diapers, but I was getting sick of tubes going into and coming out of my bladder. I told him I thought he should keep me out of the ICU unless I was actually dying. He agreed, though wasn't sure how enforceable that would be if I started spewing blood everywhere again.

Once that was done, I begged leave to take a shower, and he agreed to ask the nurses to arrange that once I'd been transferred to a different room, yet again. He encouraged me to see the lawyer as soon as possible assuming I stayed awake long enough, and was getting ready to leave as the world swam and I collapsed down onto the bed.

"No! Not dressed like this!" My last view was of my nearly naked body, wearing only a tiny hospital gown, and the kind doctor's face, frowning in consternation.

I woke up in Thedas, somewhere. I was barefoot, and wearing a skimpy, short hospital gown. My ass was hanging out in the breeze. Wonderful. It occurred to me, for possibly the first time, that there was no guarantee I'd be somewhere useful. I'd been lucky so far, always ending up close to where I wanted to be, but I could be anywhere, really. In a hospital gown. Good God. I was surrounded by fields of mostly thick grasses, no signs of habitation anywhere. I couldn't decide if that made me more or less likely to be raped until I found some clothes and figured out where I was.

I tied the gown at the back as best as I was able, then tried to decide what to do. There were some larger trees a few hundred yards away, and I decided to head towards them - maybe I could find myself a stick as a weapon, and at least find some cover so I'd be less likely to be discovered by anyone. I picked my way across the field, very conscious of my lack of shoes. I couldn't afford a foot injury, so being careful meant it took me a lot longer to reach the trees. It was a small stand of trees, not a forest, but I found a decent branch that I thought would work as a walking stick and a basic staff if necessary. Still not seeing anything else useful, my next thought was to climb a tree and see if I could figure out where I was from a higher elevation. One of the trees near me was a huge, old, gnarled thing, and was tall enough to be useful. It had several smaller trees leaning against it or standing near it, which gave me additional hand and footholds.

At home, I'd always been overweight, no matter how hard I tried, but despite that I was quite adept at tree climbing as a child. In this body, it was a simple matter to haul myself up into the lower branches and scramble up the massive trunk. When I was maybe twenty feet up, I cleared the tops of most of the other trees around, and was able to get a bit of a look - more fields, more trees. I went a little higher, and suddenly realised that in the distance, there was a rather regular break in the monotony that continued as far as I could see in both directions. A roadway? The closest point to me was maybe a couple of kilometres, far enough to be annoying but near enough to walk. Lacking any other noticeable landmarks, I looked down to choose trees to help me navigate once I hit the ground.

Unfortunately, while climbing the tree enabled me to look around, apparently it had also highlighted me as well. While searching for ways to know which direction to head, I noticed movement off towards the road. Over a few moments it came closer until it became obvious that it was a group of people, headed in my direction. They weren't anyone I knew, and they were coming fast. I debated climbing down to retrieve my stick, but decided that staying in the tree gave me better protection in case those approaching didn't have my best interests at heart.

My hopes for a dashing rescue came crashing down as I got a close up view of those that had surrounded the base of the tree. There were perhaps ten of them, all men, most looking decidedly unsavoury. They were all armoured, though their gear appeared to be piecemeal, none of it matching. They approached the base of the tree I clung to.

"What have we here, boys? Looks like we treed ourselves some entertainment for later. A gift, if you will, and look - we barely even need to unwrap it!" The group of them laughed, and I sighed. Nice going, Sierra, jinx yourself by wondering about being raped.

"Come on down, missy! We won't hurt you none. We was just wanting to get to know you a little!" There was a general chorus of agreement, mixed in with a variety of catcalls. Apparently chauvinist pigs say the same things in any world. I wondered how long I had before one or more tried coming up after me.

"I think I'll just stay up here, if it's all the same to you." There were some jeers, and I could see the atmosphere of the men below get nastier. They pulled into a circle, whispering amongst themselves, clearly trying to come up with a plan.

I started looking up, evaluating the branches above my head. There were some ... an idea started to form. I climbed a little ways down, holding on above myself, which put me into a fairly provocative pose. I ignored the flush of embarrassment, and lifted one leg, dropping it back down onto the branch I stood on. From below, I heard some more catcalls, as one or two of the men noticed and somehow seemed to think I was giving them a show. I was fine with that interpretation as long as it kept them down there a while longer. I stomped down again, heard a soft crack, and felt my weight shift subtly. I used my arms and swung up onto the next highest branch, giving the rabble below a glimpse of forbidden territory. I repeated the same 'dance', until that branch also started to crack. Again and again I did the same thing, climbing higher with each step, until I was a good fifteen feet higher than where I'd started. The show was losing its appeal due to repetition, but as yet none of them had caught on to my true intent.

Finally dissatisfied, and having no luck convincing me to come down, the group elected one of their members to try to come up. He was a balding, ugly, mean looking man, but he appeared to be in good shape and I didn't think he'd have any more trouble climbing than I did. Fortunately for me, he looked a great deal taller and generally larger than I was, and I just had to hope I'd done enough. I shimmied a little further up the tree, now clinging to the trunk and distributing my weight across multiple smaller branches. I watched Baldy's progress with trepidation as he reached the lowest branches that I had 'danced' on.

He reached up to grab the branch, and it broke off in his hand, like I'd hoped. He swore, swinging wildly, and almost fell. Finally righting himself, he inched around the tree to try again. The next branch held as he grabbed it, but when he tried to shift his entire weight onto it, it also released, breaking off right at the join to the trunk. He became more cautious after his second near-miss, and found each branch he could reach similarly weakened. I actually grinned in relief that my plan had worked, and he caught the expression. He started swearing at me, then called down to his friends.

"This bitch weakened the branches! I can't climb any further." He tried a couple more times to scale the trunk directly, but had no luck. Finally he climbed back down to regroup. I stayed put, although I did break off one nearby long branch, which wasn't strong enough to hold me, but I hoped would work as a club if a needed it. I waited.