Dearest Constellation

“Alright, Mr. Mom gets to sign this release form that you are a big boy and can take care of yourself, and you should be all set to go home. Thanks to our fabulous in-hospital pharmacy, you don’t even have to wait for medication that will induce shitti- I mean, diarrhea. You’ll have to take this right when you get home and again before you go to bed. If you don’t take it, your body isn’t going to want to get rid of all the shit left inside it, and you’ll pretty much have a week-long whole body hangover, and you’ll have a baby relapse and end up doing more smack. So, in my ‘professional’ opinion, please do take this. The one or two nights of diarrhea is better than another overdose.” Right as I was about to finish my little speech, Taylor decided to cut in. “Am I gonna end up shitting my pants again? Because last time…” “Most people don’t shit their pants, but I’m not so sure in your case. As long as you stay within ten or so feet of something to expel yourself in, you should be just fine. If anything does go wrong, do feel free to please call me and ask anything. I’m almost positive that I know more about this than you do, so ask before you do some stupid shit. If it really comes down to it, I can go to your house and play night-nurse with Taylor. Since that is a high probability, I’ll need you to sign these forms with all of your information about where you will be quarantining him and who will be his primary caretaker. We’d prefer that he stayed with the person who lives closest to the hospital, just for convenience reasons and such.” Finally, I got to finish. I slid the papers across the desk we were standing by and allowed Dave to fill out the personal information. As he was busying himself with being responsible, the rest of the men were discussing an apparent music tour that they were on with their band. From the sound of it, they must have a pretty large fan base.

“Taylor! Put that down!” Before I even had time to turn around, Taylor had knocked over the entire magazine rack. Fantastic. I think it was Nate that helped him clean up. Dave didn’t even bother to turn around. I’m almost sure that he just really wanted to get out of here. Fuck, I did too. Nobody really likes hospitals anyways.

“Taylor, I finished this paperwork for you. Nate and Chris will take you out to the car while I get this approved. Don’t fuck anything else up. We’ll be home soon.” Dave was still in his disappointed dad niche, but I’m not complaining. Its only making my job easier.

Dave handed the paperwork across the counter to another old hag behind the counter that hated her job and allowed her to punch all the info into the database for safe keeping. I honestly preferred paper, but that’s just me. I mean, I don’t even have internet because I’m always too busy to bother with it, and I only have basic cable because I’m too cheap to splurge on something that I can watch a few hours a week. Maybe if I was more in the loop, I would know what band these guys are in…

“Thank you so much, Dr. Hall. Really, you pretty much saved Taylor’s life. Can we do anything for you? Anything at all? I mean, we can’t do much except give out concert tickets and merch-shit. We could make a donation to the hospital or something or anything you can think of! We just really want to express our deepest gratitude to you and everyone that helped. I have no idea what I would do without Taylor. I mean, I already lost Kurt to this shit, so…Oh shit, I’m rambling again. Sorry! But in all honesty, is there anything we can do?” He seemed like he really couldn’t get the words out fast enough. I was right earlier though, he had already lost somebody to heroin before. I guess this Kurt character was pretty big in his life. I wonder how long ago that was…

“Dr. Hall, we need you now! There was just a major accident on the highway and they are getting flown in! We need you down there now!” Ah, refreshing. Dave nodded in my direction and I told him to call me over the littlest thing if they weren’t absolutely sure of something. He waved a goodbye and ran out the door, presumably to go play Mr. Mom with Taylor. I had a rising suspicion that I would be seeing a lot more of them around here. They just seem like a trouble-making bunch.

I made my way down to the emergency ward to deal with whatever dire emergency that this hell of a town has caused and wished for nothing but a simple nap. I mean, how difficult is it for people to not get hurt for just two or three hours so that hospitals can have nap-time? That would be fantastic on every level. But I guess I kind of took the responsibility on when I decided to blow all my money on Med school. Oh well. I also wish I had to deal with less tragedy, but I guess I threw myself into that too. At some point in every week, I end up deeply wishing that I had chosen a better profession than this, but whatever. I guess as long as I’m helping people, its for the better.

“Dr. Hall, who first? We have a collapsing ribcage and a cracked skull!?” Millie. Fuck Millie.

“The collapsed ribcage, idiot! Send the cracked skill down to the trauma ward! He has time! McRib doesn’t! Get him in here now!” As I screamed at the ever knowledgeable Millie, they pulled my gloves on and called it good enough. They wheeled McRibs in, and boy, it’s a fucking mess. Apparently, McRib was a female, I think…

“Pull the glass out of her before you stitch her up, idiot!” My doctor voice kicks in before I even have time to think.

“Sorry! Get that glass out now! She’s bleeding! Hurry up!” Millie is trying to be a big bad doctor now. Oh joy. My day will totally get better. Ha.

“Put her on oxygen! She’s not breathing enough! She’s going to die if you don’t get this closed up soon!” I started screaming as we were frantically peeling away any tiny shards of glass we could find. As they cleared the left side, we slowly started to get a move on and get her chest cavity back to an almost human looking state. Oxygen pumped into her lungs and she slowly started to breathe again on her own. I decided that keeping her on the oxygen for now was beneficial for everyone involved. Millie calmed down and regained her composure as a nurse and we finished up within the hour. Her more minor injuries were taken care of elsewhere in the hospital and I got to retire to my current favorite place in the whole world: the hospital shower.

Taking a shower after closing somebody’s open ribcage is a feeling that is literally indescribably good. Peeling bloody scrubs off your tired, jittery body and stepping into a hot glass box of rolling steam is complete bliss. The hot water rolls off your body and takes the stress and bullshit of the day down with it. Nothing can spoil how good this feels. I honestly never want to leave. I’d prefer to have my skin prune to the point of no return and collapse in bliss than get out of here and face the day. It seems cowardly, but its completely true. Anyone with my job would agree. To my misfortune, the ecstasy of this hot water is wearing off, and it became mighty-high time to get out before I miss something potentially important. Also to my misfortune, I forgot a fucking towel. Fantastic. I get to dry myself with a cupboard of hand towels. Classy. I really outdid myself this time. On the bright side, at least hand towels are better than no towels.

“Dr. Hall, you have a phone call. It’s an emergency!” Fuck. I found some plain hospital scrubs that were clean as far as I was concerned and ran to the door. Just as I was about to open it myself, the resident call runner decided to swing the door open into my face, just barely missing by what I would call atoms.

“Here!” was all she said before she slammed a phone into my hand and ran off to be somebody else’s slave for the moment.

“Hello, this is Dr. Ha-”

“Hey, this is Dave from earlier today…Taylor is freaking out and we can’t get him to calm down. What are we supposed to do? He refuses to take his medication and he’s been having mini episodes for the past 5 minutes. Can you help us?” I’m pretty sure he got all of that out in less than twelve seconds.

“I’ll be right over, uh, Dave. Keep him restrained and make sure he doesn’t overheat or pass out! Keep him awake at all costs. If he starts getting hot, put him in cold water. Tell somebody to run a cold bath. He is fucked if he overheats. I’ll be there in a second, bye!” I scrambled for the keys to my car and sprinted to the parking lot. Once I got to my car and started driving, nothing was going to stop me. The parking gate attendant can deal with the fact that I didn’t pay for my parking spot. I’m a fucking employee, god damnit. Taylor needed my help, and there wasn’t shit that was going to stop me.