Chapter 37

Ferris Long woke up from a bad night's sleep. It had started when he lay awake staring at the ceiling. His mind had been racing with thoughts and possibilities of causes and cures. He had soaked his body in the bathtub for almost an hour. At the same time, he had hoped that whatever was eating him alive, would drown and hopefully be killed by the bottles of disinfectants he had added to the water and poured directly onto his hand. Once he had gotten out of the tub he poured more disinfectant on his hand and wrapped it with a bandage.

Ferris lay in bed not quite ready to get up yet. His mind was numb from thinking and the lack of sleep did not make anything better. His eyes were tired and scratchy. He looked at the bandage on his left hand and hoped for an improvement. Ferris hoped that whatever was eating into his flesh had stopped because he did not feel that same level of itch from the previous day. He knew his hand would still be in a bad state because wounds don't heal overnight, but if those things, eating away at his flesh could be gone, that would at least be a good start.

He feared when he started undoing the bandage around his arm. The smell of disinfectant was still strong. As the bandage grew thinner, Ferris noticed brown stains seeping through, which was usually the case with an open wound. Ferris did not have to go much further before he got enfolded in a state of shock and fear. He removed the bandage completely and stared at a terrible nightmare. His hand was worse than ever before. It seemed like the disinfectant had no effect at all. The tear on his hand from the night before was now a large gaping tear where most of the flesh had been devoured. The bones in his hand were clearly visible as something brown and old. His nails had grown into some ugly brown extensions that were not his own.

Ferris feared while searching for his cell phone. Eventually, he found it on the kitchen table and dialled his house doctor.

The doctor's assistant answered, 'Dr Delport Practice, good morn –'

'Good morning,' Ferris interrupted. 'I need an urgent appointment with Dr, please. It is very urgent.'

'Sir, let me check his diary. I'm sure someone cancelled an appointment,' she said. Ferris could hear paper being roughly handled on the other side of the line. 'Yip, there is an opening for eleven o'clock.'

'Is there nothing earlier?' Ferris asked anxiously.

'Unfortunately not sir. I can phone you if there is another cancellation,' she said.

'Please do,' Ferris said, looking at his hand.

'So can I book you for the eleven o'clock appointment?'

'Yes, please. My name is Ferris long.'

'Okay Mr Long, your booking has been confirmed. See you at eleven,' she said before cutting the line.

Ferris dialled Craig's number.

'Morning Ferris,' Craig's answered, almost immediately.

'Morning Craig, sorry to bother you so early, but I made a doctor's appointment for eleven o'clock this morning. I'll be a little late today.'

'No problem Ferris. How's that hand of yours?' Craig asked.

'Oh God, don't even ask, it's terrible.'

There was a pause on the line and Ferris wondered if Craig was still there.

'Ferris, you know you can talk to me don't you?'

'Not sure you'll understand if I do,' Ferris said. His voice was flat and depleted.

'Try me, man. Just know that -,' Craig said.

'I'll speak to you later,' Ferris interrupted.

'Give me a call when you need anything all right.'

'Will do, thank you, Craig,' Ferris said and disconnected the call.

Ferris took a shower and got dressed. It was still early. Too early to go to the doctor. His appointment is only at eleven, but if someone cancels an appointment, he would be there immediately. He made sure he wrapped his hand (which was hardly his own anymore) with a clean bandage before he left the house.

Ferris arrived at the consulting room and waited for the Doctor. He was anxious as he watched the clock unwind. The seconds felt like lifetimes in purgatory. He looked at the closed door expecting Delport to open it any moment. He decided to page through some of the magazines to keep his mind from going crazy. It was the usual health magazines, which he did not find interesting because he was feeling far from healthy. The bodies in the magazine were all in good shape. Even their skins seemed perfect. He wondered why doctors placed these magazines on the table for people to read when they were feeling sick. He wondered if they were supposed to make one feel better and well. If that was the case, it was not working. Nobody asked to be sick. People simply got sick from germs and diseases. In some cases, illness was self-inflicted but in Ferris's case, it did not fall into any of those categories. He feared that Delport would not be able to help him, let alone what he was going to say about his hand. They had all seen ugly things, but this was a new level of obscenity. Maybe he felt that way because it was his own hand and not just anyone else's. Either way, it remained something of a horrid nature.

'Mr Ferris,' the assistant said, looking over the counter. 'Dr Delport is ready for you.'

'Thank you,' Ferris nodded and headed for Delport's room. He thought it was pretty strange. On some rare occasions in the past, Delport would come and get Ferris in the waiting room and walk him to his office.

Ferris stood in the doorway and understood why his doctor did not come and get him from the waiting room. Delport was sitting behind his desk scribbling roughly on a piece of paper. Once completed, he placed the paper in a brown folder. Ferris knocked softly. 'Good morning Doc.'

Delport placed the brown envelope in one of his drawers. He got up from his chair and extended his hand. 'Good morning, Mr Long. Haven't seen you in a while.'

Ferris shook with him, 'yes it has been quite some time.'

'Please, have a seat,' Delport said, pointing towards an empty chair in front of his desk. He sat down again regarding the bandage around Ferris's arm. 'What can we do for you today?'

Ferris sat down slowly. He could sense Delport's eyes on his bandaged hand. 'Doc, I hope to God, you can help me. I don't know how to say this, but something is wrong with my hand, and I'm not quite sure there's a logical explanation for it.'

Delport frowned, fully focused on Ferris's bandaged hand. 'Well, let's have a look then.' He got up from his chair and walked around his desk. He sat in the chair next to Ferris, took Ferris's hand and started undoing the bandage. 'Is it just your hand, or are you not feeling well in general?' Delport asked, still focused on the bandage.

'I feel fine doc, it's just my hand. It bothers me. Don't know what to do. Last night I soaked it in a tub with some strong disinfectants, but this morning, it was worse.'

Delport nodded and removed the last bit of bandage. A foul smell erupted from the wound. Ferris could sense Delport trying hard to conceal his disgust towards the rotting tear in Ferris's hand. He inspected the wound from all angles by twisting and turning Ferris's left arm.

'How long has your hand been like this?' Delport's frown deepened.

'Not long. It was fine during the week until yesterday. It all started with a rash about two weeks ago.'

Delport nodded. His gaze dropped from Ferris's face back to his hand, 'have you got any allergies?'

'Nope, not that I'm aware of.'

'Okay,' Delport said getting up from his seat. He had a concerned expression on his face. 'Please sit over there for me.' He pointed towards a thin bed against the wall. 'I want to check out a few things.'

Ferris got up and walked towards a bed-like mattress covered with plastic. It was cold when he sat down on it. He knew the normal routine. It started with a blood pressure test followed by the throat, lung and ear inspection.

'Well, everything seems to be fine,' Delport said after his routine check. He walked back to his desk and sat down.

Ferris followed him back to his own chair.

'You didn't work with anything toxic at work lately?' Delport asked taking hold of Ferris's hand again. He regarded it closely.

'No, doc.'

'Give me a bit of background. When did this start exactly, and how?'

Ferris knew then that he was wasting his own time as well as Delport's. Deep down, he did not expect any doctor to be able to help. 'As I said, it started about two weeks ago.' He did not want to give Delport the whole truth of where and how it really started. He would feel stupid saying something like that. Anyway, Delport would simply dismiss it as not being logical. 'It started as a small bump on my skin. The next day there were a few more. It itched and the more I scratched, the more it spread. Yesterday the itch was unbearable and when I go into my car on the way home, there was a tear in my skin. There was something small in there. Something moving. They were like tiny black insects eating my flesh. Although those small black things were gone, this morning the wound was worse.'

Delport shook his head, 'I must admit, I've never seen anything like this before. It must be a form of infection, which I'm going to prescribe a strong antibiotic for. Have you got any pain in your hand?'

'No, had the terrible itch from yesterday, but that is gone now. My hand didn't look this bad last night though.'

'Okay, I'm going to do a few things. One is antibiotics. I'm also going to give you a local anaesthetic for your hand, just in case that itch comes back or maybe even pain. Finally, you need an antiseptic cream which you need to apply in the mornings as well as evenings after a bath or shower. It won't do any harm applying the cream in the afternoons as well.'

Ferris nodded.

'I want to send a tissue sample to the lab for further analysis. It will take about two weeks for the results to come back. I also want to book you off for a few days as well. We can't take any chances with that hand. You will not be able to use it at all until the wound has healed completely. If you keep on using your hand, it will prolong the healing process and the cream will not be able to do what it's supposed to.'

'I've got a new boss doc and we are quite busy at work,' Ferris said.

'Well, your hand needs healing. Your health is more important than any old job out there. Do you think they won't replace you once you're gone? The world will simply move on like nothing ever happened. So, take care of yourself. No one else gives a damn. I'm going to book you off for the whole of next week.'

'Okay doc,' Ferris said. He watched as Delport scribbled some words down on paper and wondered how pharmacists were able to read what doctors wrote.

Delport handed Ferris two small sheets of paper and said, 'one is your prescription and the other your leave request. Take your antibiotics once a day in the morning until it's finished. Apply the cream in the mornings and before you go to bed. Unfortunately, I need to give you an injection straight away.'

Delport got a small glass bottle from a cabinet against one of the walls. He plunged the seal with a needle that he attached to a syringe. Slowly he sucked out a clear liquid from the small bottle until he was satisfied with the dosage in the syringe. He placed the small bottle back on the shelf, tapped the syringe several times with his finger and squirted the excess liquid out through the needle.

'This might sting a little, but there is no other way,' Delport said, sitting down next to Ferris. He took Ferris's hand in his own and held it steady.

Ferris noticed the needle approaching the wound on his hand and he instinctively looked away. He was never one for needles. He was about to force his mind away from the situation when he felt the sharp burning pain. He knew Delport injected him straight into the wound. Ferris shut his eyes from the unwanted agony, but he knew that it was for the best. He would prefer any pain over the state of his rotting hand.

'That's it, we're done,' Dr Delport said.

Ferris opened his eyes and looked at his hand. A small drop of blood appeared inside the wound where the needle tore through earlier. 'Thank you, doc.' There was also a new wound where Delport had cut a small piece of Ferris's flesh to send away to the laboratory for further analysis.

'No problem,' Delport said. He started wrapping Ferris's hand with a fresh bandage. 'If the medication is not working, I want you to call me okay? And don't wait too long. I would say by early next week.'

'Will do thank you doc,' Ferris said. He looked down at his neatly wrapped hand. He was relieved in a way for two reasons. One, he was not able to see the ugly wound anymore and two, no one else would be able to see his rotting flesh. Ferris got up and extended his right hand towards Delport. 'Really appreciate your help.'

'That's what we are here for,' Delport said and shook Ferris's good hand. 'And remember, call me immediately when there's no improvement. As soon as the test results come back, I'll give you a call.'

'Got it,' Ferris nodded and headed for the door.

The sun was bright when Ferris headed towards his car. He thought about Craig and retrieved his phone from his jean pocket.

'Hey Ferris,' Craig answered.

'Morning Craig, I just wanted to let you know that the doctor has booked me off for a week,' Ferris said. He felt a little guilty for saying it. Craig might think he was a chancer, but fortunately, he saw the state of his hand the day before. And that was when Ferris's hand was still in a semi-good condition, considering how it degraded in the past few hours.

'That's good, man. What did he say about your hand?'

'He wasn't too sure but thinks it's some kind of infection. He gave me a strong prescription of antibiotics.'

'Good. Now go home and rest that hand of yours. Drink the shit out of those antibiotics, but don't overdose on them. Rest well and please call me if you need anything.'

'Will do,' Ferris chuckled, 'thank you, Craig.'

'I'll pop in at your place sometime, okay.'

'No problem,' Ferris said. He never gave Craig his address, but that information would be no problem to get from the Human Resources department when needed.

'Take care now,' Craig said before disconnecting the call.

Ferris wondered if Craig meant what he said. He sounded too nice. Too sincere. Usually, people like that had a knife hidden in the cotton candy somewhere, but then again, maybe Craig was different. Ferris felt positive about the prescription of the strong antibiotics. He somehow believed that those pills would do the trick. If the medication did not work, then they probably have to amputate, and that was something he did not dare to think about. At least not for now.