Troubled Thoughts and the Self-Esteem to Match

Gabe

When we got back to the block, I made a bee-line to my bed. I had no energy to spare in order to hang out with the group in the living room. They were saying something about watching Elf, but I barely even had the energy to make it back to my room. I felt like total shit. My head was killing me, my throat felt raw, my chest felt like it had a cinder block on it, and my whole head felt like it was stuffed with snot. I didn’t even care that dinner would be soon. Food was the last thing on my mind, shockingly enough.

I fell asleep within minutes of burrowing into my bed, and didn’t wake up for at least two hours. When I did, I instantly wished I could be asleep again. Everything hurt so much worse. I felt like my brain was wrapped in a thorough fog that wouldn’t clear, no matter how much I wanted it to. My nagging bladder kept me from delving back into that unconsciousness that I so desperately wanted more of, but I dreaded getting up. I knew that as soon as I stood, my head would feel like it was caving in from pressure. When I finally crawled out of bed and headed for the bathroom, I rooted my palms to the back of my head, pressing hard to keep the pressure at an equilibrium, though the pulsating throb still bounded through my skull.
After peeing, I intended on going back to the room and crawling into bed once more, but a glimpse of light in the meeting room caught my attention. There wasn’t a meeting going on or I would have been drug into it, so I decided to check out what was going on. My feet felt as heavy as lead as I plodded down the hallway. Upon reaching the T in the hallway, I heard the television blaring Will Ferrel’s voice but didn’t care to go check it out. I stepped to the meeting room’s doorway, half expecting to see Mr. Way looking for a book but rather, my eyes caught on to Guillermo in the back corner of the room, absorbed in the binder he had brought back with him.

“What is that thing?” I croaked as I drug myself into the room and across the floor, plopping down beside him. He acted reluctant to pull his eyes away from the page he was on, but did so after reading the rest of the sentence he was in the middle of.
“The old man gave it to me before we left. He noticed the bandages on my arms and said this was his story about his first wife and how she committed suicide. He said I really needed to read it to get my mind cleared up about my problems.”
Strange, but if it helped him, I didn’t have a problem with it. He marked the page he was on with a sticky note and closed it, eyes finally turning toward me. Upon doing so, a frown instantly creased his face. “You must feel terrible.” He stated and I felt like nodding, but my head hurt too much for that.

“You should really be in bed, you know.” He warned cautiously and with that, a scoff rolled from my tongue. “Easier said than done.” But the expression tethering into his facial features hinted that he was being serious. “Go back to bed and I’ll see if Mr. Way has any medicine you can take that might make you sleepy too.”
Before giving me any say so in the matter, he stood up, lanky figure disappearing from the room. I didn’t want to move again. My head was just settling back to that monotone throb, and if I stood, it would escalate back to my head possibly caving in.
Sleeping through this sounded much more ideal though, so I meagerly crawled to my feet, stooping down to grab the binder he’d left before stumbling and lurching toward the room like a zombie. I all but collapsed back into my bed, a safe haven to me right now. The binder slipped from my grip and toppled to the floor so that it splayed open to some random page that revealed tiny, tight knit swoops of words the old man had written. It looked near illegible but I wasn’t sure if it was actually that bad, or my brain not feeling up to processing any of it.

My mind was covered in turpentine and fatigue so that the only thing I could focus on was when Guillermo would return with my medicine. I needed it so bad. The door creaked open and I automatically expected him to be telling me what medicine he had, but rather, a baritone voice met my ears.
“Hey man, you feeling okay?” Danny inquired, stepping into the room. I couldn’t see him for how I had my face all but buried in my pillow, but I could hear his socks contacting the linoleum as he came to my bedside. “Actually, I feel like drinking battery acid would be a better alternative to this,” I informed, forcing myself up on my lower arms to stare up toward him, “But other than that, I’m dandy.”
“William took Brendon with him to go to the Administration building to get some medicine from the nurse, so I figured you felt like dog shit.”
I barely managed a nod in acknowledgment to the statement, because dog shit was a pretty accurate epitome of how I felt at the time. The back of his hand brushed over my forehead for a moment before he left. He came back moments later with a washrag from the shower-room and folded it in half before telling me to lie on my back. I didn’t want to move, but I did as told and he placed the damp rag on my forehead.

“Keep that on there, turd. You’re burning up.” He gave a chuckle and I acted like I was going to punch him on the shoulder, but the punch was nothing more than a meager bump. “I heard Mr. Way phoning the Administrator about getting you to a doctor tomorrow. He was saying that he didn’t want you to end up with Pneumonia before they took action, so you’ll probably get some time out of the block for a while, you lucky ass.” I felt like flipping him off, but didn’t care to move. I’d rather stay in here and feel better than feel like total shit and get a break.
The door opened again and William came into the room, pausing to give a strange glance toward Danny. It probably would seem weird to walk in on Danny sort of trying to aid in caring for me, but he shrugged it off when Danny cooed “Just came to make sure my little Gabanti is okay, mi pobrecito.”

“Aww, te amo, cariño.” I jeered back as he shuffled toward the door, glancing back for a moment before leaving. “Here.” Guillermo handed me two green gel capsules and some water, I taking them without hesitation. Nyquil. That always knocked me on my ass when I took it, and it worked wonders so I was grateful for it as it somersaulted down my throat and toward my stomach. I downed the rest of the water and sat the plastic cup on the floor by my bed as he pulled a bag of cough drops from his pocket and handed them to me. “She gave me these for you too.”

I unwrapped one and popped it into my mouth, the taste of artificial honey and menthol coating my taste buds. The longer I laid there letting the cough drop sooth my throat, the more the Nyquil shifted through my system. By the time the cough suppressant was but a thin disk on my tongue, I was just inches away from sleep. My eyes were so heavy, I couldn’t keep them awake. I crunched the last little piece of cough drop between my teeth and with that, I was out.

“Wake up, Gabe.” Mr. Way’s voice whispered close to my ear, he shaking me awake. I fought it, not wanting to be awake, but he persisted until my eyes opened to little slits. Light was just barely starting to sift in through the window, so it couldn’t be any later than 6 A.M. I laid there for probably a minute or two before forcing myself to sit up and I was instantly looking around my bed for the cough drops. They had been pushed to the foot of the bed in my slumber. I grabbed them and crawled out of bed, head pounding so much that I couldn’t tone it down by putting pressure on it. Instead, I wobbled to the hallway, Mr. Way helping me do so. I was so damn weak, I felt like even walking was out of the question.
“We need to get you to the doctor so they can get you hooked up with some antibiotics.” He offered while leading me down the hallway and toward the door. Danny was standing at the opening to the living room, fully dressed for going out in the cold. I could feel my eyes slink toward Mr. Way’s face in question to what he was doing and it wasn’t until we were at the door and I was slipping my feet into some shoes that he spoke.
“He’s going with us to the Doctor. He needs a vision test, so I scheduled them at the same time to make it easier on us all.” He’d been having trouble with his vision? Didn’t know, didn’t care right now. I grabbed a coat, which was almost too small, but I didn’t care. I wrapped into it as we stepped out into the cold and trekked toward the nearest parking lot gate. It seemed like an agonizingly slow walk before we finally got there and to Mr. Way’s SUV. I crawled into the back, hoping to lie down there, but Danny got in on the opposite side so that it was out of the question. I propped back against my seat, head lolling back slowly.
I would love to be at the Doctor’s office already. I’d be happy to get medicine to make me feel better so I could get back and return to my cozy, loving bed. That sounded quite amazing, actually.
Mr. Way maneuvered the vehicle out of the parking lot and onto the road, snow sloshing under the tires. My head was swimming with each pothole and rough spot the vehicle hit and I wished to be sleeping again, but I wasn’t sure how that would go. The clinic we always went to for doctor’s appointments was twenty minutes away, thirty with all the snow on the road. That would only result in me feeling even worse when I woke up.

“Gabe?” Danny’s voice penetrated the darkness in my mind and I felt him shift. My head slid off of his shoulder and I nearly fell out of my seat but he pushed me back to a sitting position. I must have fallen asleep during the drive after all. I pried my eyes open to gaze up toward him, his eyes shining with possibly worry. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t know if I could muster the strength, but we were parked in front of the building and Mr. Way was already standing outside the vehicle with a cigarette between his lips. Danny crawled out of the vehicle too then, pulling me by my arm to force me out of the comfort of the vehicle. Mr. Way motioned for us to follow him to the automatic doors and I took a few wobbling steps, but before we could even make half of the walk through the parking lot, I was leaning on Danny for support or I would undoubtedly slip and fall on my ass.
He didn’t seem to mind, but I thought it was weird. If I weren’t so lucid, I would probably refuse his help because it made it so awkward. We were bro’s. We bonded by passing gas at each other or punching, so this was out of the usual. It probably looked weird because of the height thing too. He wasn’t that much shorter than be, but I was still slouched over against him like a ragdoll. Walking through the doors of the building and breathing in the warm, stale air caused an outburst within my chest, the small change in temperature too much for my lungs at the time. We all had to pause so I could double over, coughing and harking so much that it felt like I may pass out from oxygen deprivation.

It was a small building with only about twenty chairs in the waiting room and most often, there was no more than a five minute wait to go to the back rooms. This time was no different. After Mr. Way signed me in and sat down, we were waiting for maybe three minutes before a small, dark skinned nurse was opening one of the doors and calling my name. Upon standing and wobbling her way, a welcoming smile plastered across her middle aged face. She looked of Indian decent, and when she motioned me toward a room with a small “This way, please,” the very small twinges of her accent came through. Danny and Mr. Way were behind us somewhere, Mr. Way because it was mandatory, and Danny because he didn’t want to be left alone, I supposed.

We were led into the first room on the left, which was very basic. There was only a small desk with a chair beside it, a scale, and two chairs opposite the other one. She sat at the desk and made me sit beside her, asking the usual questions. ‘what are you here for?’ ‘are you taking any medications currently?’ ‘are there any medications you’re allergic to?’ and then she made me step up on the scales, which read 148 pounds. I returned to the chair afterward and she took my heart-rate and blood pressure, which was normal.
We were led to another room then, with all of the regular tools for the doctor and the patient bed, which I wasted no time in climbing onto and laying down.

Janet, the Physician Assistant, came in about eight minutes later. She was average height and weight, with black hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had pockmarks on her face from what used to be acne, but she was all around a very pretty young adult. “Hey there, Gabe. What brought you here this time?” She inquired as she came into the room and I sat up. “Geez, I wonder.” I barked back as I waved my hand in front of my face as if to say ‘cause looking at me doesn’t tell you’.
“Fever? Tightness of chest? Headache? Fatigue? Congestion? Coughing?” She read off of her chart, then sat it down beside me and grabbed one of the contrapments, telling me to open up wide. She looked back at my throat and declared that it didn’t look like Strep, but she was going to need a nurse to swab the back of my throat to make sure it wasn’t Strep or Mono just in case. While we waited for the nurse, she prodded at my neck and throat, mentioning that my lymph nodes were swollen. The same nurse came back in with two of the long swabs, the ones that looked like giant Q-tips, and asked me to open wide again. The rough swab drug against the back of my throat and I gagged, she pulling it back and popping it into a container.
“Just one more.” She warned, knowing from experience that I hated this routine. She swabbed again and I gagged once more, but it was over after that. As she was leaving, Janet checked my temperature and took a peak into my ears, prodding against the skin under my eyes in the meantime. “Hurt?” She queried as she did, pressing against my sinuses.
“Yeah.”

She told us she had to go check out the swabs and she would be back with the diagnosis when she returned. While we waited, Danny made a joke about how sensitive my gag reflex was, mentioning that it was too bad because I would never be able to ‘suck his dick’. Mr. Way, in turn, turned to him with a scarred grimace, knowing we were joking but probably thinking it was a horrible thing to imagine nonetheless.
When Janet came back into the room, she asked if she could do some x-rays on my lungs to make sure they weren’t being too compromised by what I had. I agreed and did so in a blur, being led to the back room by a nurse named Jackie, slipping into one of the gowns, and lying down on the hard table while she snapped shots of my chest with the monstrously large machine.

We had to wait for the photos to be developed and examined, and when Janet came back, she informed me that it looked to be a case of Pneumonia and the infection was harming some of my Alveoli and that I would be prescribed Augmentin and an MDI- inhaler that I would need to use four times a day for the next ten days. She sent the prescriptions to the drug store and took Danny for the vision test.

I lay back onto the patient bed, beyond exhausted. It didn’t surprise me that the diagnosis was Pneumonia because, though I didn’t get sick often, when I did, it was usually worse than the norm. Danny was gone for fifteen minutes before he returned. I had just started to drift back to sleep when they came back into the room, an indifferent tone to his face. “I failed. Miserably.” He announced, and Janet asked Mr. Way if he wanted a prescription sent to the Optometrist. He asked me if I was up to it because he would take Danny the next morning if I didn’t feel well enough.
I didn’t want to be a hindrance, no matter how terrible I felt, so I told him that Danny needed his glasses, or else he might try crawling in bed with Frank and mistake him for Travis. After both our prescriptions were sent out, we returned to the vehicle. I couldn’t wait to get my meds and take them. Augmentin was such a powerful antibiotic, I would probably feel a lot better by tonight.

We went to the Optometrist first, since it was just going in and picking glasses. There was a lot of fucking hideous ones that I was shocked someone could even make in the first place without laughing about them. The thick rimmed, ‘emo kid’ glasses were popular in the place apparently, so it was easy for Danny to pick a pair. They were a nice in between. The lenses weren’t too small or too large, and the black rims weren’t too thin or too thick. They seemed fitting enough, though it was weird seeing him with glasses all of a sudden.

They were bought, put onto the facility’s account, and then we headed to the drug store to pick up my stuff. The Augmentin was to be taken twice daily for two weeks and I was stealing Mr. Way’s drink when we got back to the vehicle to take one. They were huge pills, the kind that were powdery and chalky, and if you didn’t swallow them immediately, the taste was terrible. I broke it in half in order to be able to swallow it and chased it with Mr. Way’s coffee.
“Okay, home-bound?” He tossed back toward us, making sure there were no more stops we needed to make before we went back.
“Not unless you want to be generous and buy us fat-asses some food.” I pitched in before sinking down in my seat, waiting for the medicine to kick in.