germ-killing robots – the star trek way

 

Even in a coma, you need your rest. A coma, contrary to popular belief, can be quite exhausting. I was in the midst of a nice little coma nap myself when I felt something beginning to wash through my veins.

“Don’t worry,” said Fanny, “it’s just antibiotics.”

I thought I knew a thing or two about a thing or two. Like I said, you think you know what you’re talking about until an actual expert comes along.

What am I talking about? Germs. Hospital germs, to be exact. The thing is, Fanny is a nurse. She works in a hospital. When it comes to knowing a thing or two about hospital germs, no one even comes close. Not even a doctor.

Did you know that hospital infections kill thousands of people every year? That’s a fact.

According to the Center for Disease Control, hospital infections kill more than a hundred thousand people every year. That’s more than die from AIDS, breast cancer, and automobile accidents combined.

“We have to keep you pumped up with antibiotics,” said Fanny. “You have no idea the kinds of germs there are in a hospital.”

I thought I did. But what I knew only skimmed the surface.

“We’re not supposed to tell anyone this, but you’d actually be better off outside the hospital than in.

“Believe it or not, so many of the infections people catch in a hospital could be avoided if the employees just washed their hands, or even used the hand sanitizer that’s everywhere.”

Not washing their hands?

“In fact, some of these orderlies are so lazy, they don’t even bother changing the bed sheets between patients.”

What? Do you mean I could be lying in a pee-stained bed? Or worse?

“They’re usually too busy smoking pot out back, or fornicating in the supply closet.”

Fornicating in the supply closet?

“Don’t worry, I made sure they changed yours. I made sure they cleaned the room, too. And, I’ll keep you pumped up with the good stuff.”

That’s my girl.

“You just wouldn’t believe the quantity and ferocity of germs in hospitals these days. I mean, a hospital is supposed to be where you come to get well. Truth is, you’d be better off in a porno theater.”

Do they even have dirty-movie theaters anymore? I guess all the exhibitionists and queers do still need somewhere to go, now that the homeless have taken over all the parks.

“For example,” said Fanny, “did you know that there is a thing called a Super Bug?”

I know about Super Man.

“It’s kind of like the super villain of germs. Bacteria like MRSA (Methicillin Resistant Staphylococcus Aureus) have been pummeled so long with antibiotics that they’re actually immune to the stuff now.”

By Jove, the Professor was right!

“Methicillin used to eradicate as much as ninety-five percent of all Staphylococcus aureus, now that number is down to just ten. They’ve become this rogue, mutant form of germ that normal antibiotics just don’t have any effect on anymore.”

Great. First there was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, now this.

“They’re evolving,” she said. “Like an advanced species.”

Maybe they are—an advanced species, I mean.

“Not to worry,” she said. “Nowadays, they kill them off with a bacteria-fighting robot. An actual robot. I’m not kidding. These germ-killing robots use radiation and xenon gas: lasers. The xenon emits ultraviolet light that literally zaps the germs, like something right out of Star Trek.”

Star Trek?

“May sound crazy, but it gets the job done. In only minutes, an entire hospital room can be germ free: corners, cracks, crevices and all.”

Robots, lasers, Star Trek; maybe intra-galactic Armageddon really was under way, you just needed a microscope to see it.

“You have nothing to worry about, though,” she said.

Really?

“It only affects patients who have just had surgery. The bacteria have to find their way into the bloodstream to cause infection.”

I had no idea. Coma or not, I needed to get better soon, and get the hell out of this death trap.

“Don’t worry. Any bacteria would have to get by me first.”

It was good to have someone on the inside, on my side.

“You know, Arlen, I have something to tell you.”

What?

“I know you’ve been watching me.”

Watching you?

“You know, through your peephole.”

Okay. But how?

”Sometimes, a girl just knows.”

I see.

“Truth is, I’ve been watching you too.”

I knew it!

“It’s okay,” she said, “it’ll be our little secret.”

Who was I going to tell? I was in a coma.

She rubbed my hand. “Our little secret,” she said.

Oh, boy. Did I ever need to shake myself back into consciousness. But for now, minus any real plan going forward, there really wasn’t anything I could do about it.