Reflex

Cover Reflex
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Genres: Fiction
Davy was sure of it but he couldn't put his finger on it.
There was light on the other side of his eyelids. He knew he should get up—Millie got pissed if he spent all day in bed—but he couldn't even make himself open his eyes, much less sit up. Maybe it's a virus. Maybe I just don't want to get into the having-children argument again.
Millie must've been listening to something on the television or the radio. A distant voice, deep, male, said, "Uh, oh, that looks like an arousal pattern." "Where
...?" A tenor, or was it an alto?
"That K complex... and those theta waves are increasing in amplitude." "Hit him with some more fentanyl IV. Then increase the drip on the fentanyl/midazolam." Definitely an alto, a woman.
He felt something cold in his arm and thought it odd that it should be in his arm rather than on it and then he went back to sleep.
  The TV was on again. It sounded like some sort of daytime hospital soap. "—an infection?" "Probably. Either from the IV or the catheter or when we intubated him—something from the sinuses.
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