My Shattered Reality

Chapter 2 The World’s Punching Bag

I glared at the clock as it said eight AM. My shift starts in an hour.

Though I wanted nothing more that to just lay here in bed, I wanted so desperately stay home.

But I had work to do. At any rate, it was starting to be the only reason why I got up in the morning. I was wasting away, I knew it. But once again, I didn’t care.

So I got up and pulled on some jeans and a jacket over a shirt, and got some coffee. I stuffed some Vicodin painkillers in my bag, in case I needed them later, which I was pretty positive I would, and put some paperwork I had to do (seriously, how much can one have in a day) in my backpack. After everything, I mumbled a goodbye to a barely awake Elliot and walk out the door, and this time I ran into no one.

I cruise on my bike to work and walked in, only to meet the Janitor.

“Hey, Kidddo.”

“What do you want?” I ask.

“What, I can’t say hello without wanting something?”

“Coming from you, no.”
“What, so I’m the poor, low life janitor so I have to be selfish?”
“No. You’re the guy who loves to make my life a living hell. Why should I trust you with anything when all you do is make me fearful of turning the corner?”
He looked slightly stunned, but then got over it.

“Nice try.”

“I’m not even going to ask what you think I’m doing.”
I started walking, but he sticks out his mop and trips me.

I hit the floor, including my head, and I groan. I woke up with a big, source-less headache this morning and this was definitely not helping it. I think I got a very, very slight concussion.

“Janitor!” I hear a woman shout. “Leave him alone for once! If you gave him a concussion, it’s your ass on the line.”

Janitor actually walks away from the fiery Dominican, her personality strong and tall. She then walks over to me and helps me up.

“Are you okay?” Carla asked me. I nodded.

“I’ll get upstairs before he claims I’m late for work or something like that,” I said, meaning Cox.

We walked up together and soon I ran right into him.

“Oh, Newbie, there you are, you’re doing rounds early today and then I want you to take a weird case that what in God’s name happened to your head?”
I was caught off guard by the sudden change of his sentence, but I simply said, “I tripped.”

I guess I got a bruise or something.
“Don’t do it again, Maxine. Anyway, you’re doing morning rounds and then you’ll be taking on Courtney King, a college girl who got in a car crash and is in the ICU with a pressured heart, one collapsed lung, multiple rib and bone fractures, and we’re looking at some serious head trauma, here, Katie, and she’s also the baby sister of an old friend of mine so you better do well with her. Got it?”

I nod silently and take the chart before doing my rounds. Nothing interesting really happened, if you don’t count Doug tripping right into an old, unconscious lady’s bed, causing the start of numerous sex jokes, and then I was looking at Courtney. She was white, with raven black hair, and blonde tips, and she was also pale, bruised, and covered in bandages.

I sighed as I looked up at all the machines she was hooked up to. From what the report said, a drunk driver hit her.

Figures.

I dealt with what little I had to and then was back in my on-call room. This time there was an intern on the lower bunk on the other side of the room, but I ignored her and climbed onto my own bed and started back on the paperwork from today.

“Newbie!” I groan without looking up from this man’s insurance papers. “Help me, here, I’m going through some major déjà vu. So tell me, did you do everything I asked?”
“Rounds early, check my patients, check King. Got it,” I said. I think that with the exception of medical orders, those are the first words I’ve spoken since I told Dr. Cox that I tripped.

“Right, those shouldn’t have taken more than three hours, at most, I thus I ask why are you back in here? How long have you been in here?”
“I’m doing paperwork, sir, and I have been in here since about noon, sir.”
“Two hours, same spot.” He then suddenly stopped and his eye tone changed, looking me over with that look he uses on patients. “Clarissa, when was the last time you ate something?”
“Dinner…”
“Dinner when, Newbie?”
“Day…before…yesterday, sir.”
An odd look passes onto his face. I think it’s…shock? Concern?
Nah. Dr. Cox doesn’t care about me, or anyone else for that matter.

I don’t think anyone cares about me, as well.

But he grabs my arm and starts dragging me off somewhere. Ends up being the cafeteria, where we find Carla wolfing down her lunch. I know she’s almost eight months pregnant, but how much can one woman eat?

“Carla, do me a favor, will ya?” Cox said, making me sit down. “Get Newbie here some lunch. He apparently hasn’t eaten in almost more than a day and a half, and I don’t want him collapsing on me because I, unfortunately, have to work with him, and I don’t want another patient on my hands, I have enough as it is. Newbie, meet me in room 206 at three, got it?”
With that he turned on his heel and walked away, while Carla stares at me.

“Bambi, why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m just not hungry,” I said. She shakes her head and pushes her plate to me, from her tray, which has many of them. It’s just some bow tie pasta. But I eat it anyway, even though I am already starting to feel nauseous, and somehow manage to keep it down. She shakes her head when she thinks I don’t see it. We all know that we don’t eat much right after a hangover, but I was probably being a little over the top, here.

Elliot and Turk sit down and, as they now think I’m asleep with my forehead on my arms, start whispering to Carla.

“What’s happening?” Turk asked.

“Dr. Cox just realized that he hasn’t eaten since dinner day before yesterday.”

“What? What’s going on with JD?” Elliot rushes out of her mouth.

“I wish I knew,” Carla said.

“This ain’t like Vanilla Bear to do that,” Turk said. “And look at him. He’s sleeping on a freakin’ lunch table. I know we don’t eat after a hangover, but he’s being a little over the top, here.”

See? My thoughts exactly.

“And he came back home day before yesterday drunk,” Carla said wistfully. “What’s going one with him?”
“Is the deal with Kim and Jamie that bad?” Elliot asked.

“He was looking forward to being a father,” Carla said. “I mean, if my baby right now died, I would be devastated. And they even named it. He was drawing so many doodles of a baby’s room.”

There was an odd silence.

“What time is it?” Carla asked.

“About two forty-five,” Elliot said.

“Bambi needs to be with Cox at three. Tell me when it’s five minutes to three.”
I think that’s when the others nodded.

“Oh, JD,” Elliot said. She started stroking my hair, and it was taking a lot of self restraint not to pull myself away from it. “He’s going through so much. I almost don’t want to tell him.”
“Tell him what?” Turk asked.

Yeah, Elliot, tell me what?

“I bought a house,” Elliot said. “I don’t know if he can pull off an apartment easily on his own, though. And the house is more of a cottage, for me and Keith. But I’m going to try and tell him tonight. I don’t have long unless we pay another month’s rent.”
“I think this might just drive him to finally build a house behind his porch.” Carla said. “Let’s hope so.”
“I have half a mind,” Elliot said. “To just let him sleep and tell Cox he’ll just have to deal with me.”

“I don’t think JD’ll appreciate that,” Turk said.

“Besides,” Carla said. “When we give him cases, Perry told us to make sure we don’t give him anything too complicated…or anything dealing with maternity.”

Figures…why the hell does he care if I can’t easily handle maternity? It is definitely no Cox to actually look out for someone.

“I guess I have to wake him up, now,” Carla said. I felt Elliot’s hand on my shoulder. It rested for a moment before it shook me awake.

I didn’t even acknowledge them, but I just got up and went to 206.

“Oh, Janet, there you are,” Cox was saying to me five minutes later. “Mr. Donakelli here had a heart attack last night. The interns got it under control, but you are going to find out why is happened.”

I nodded and took the chart he handed to me and started checking on the old man’s vitals as my once-mentor walked out of the room.

I glared daggers at his back, hating him. Now he was getting control over the patients I get? I really hate him.

I knew why I hated him at the moment. Because I looked up to him. And I knew it was because he was the closest thing to a father figure I had. I never had a father. And my mother pretty much hated me. So I never really had a parent, besides my brother looking out for me. I was always the type to look out for myself.

But now that he was looking out for me, as well, I realized I wasn’t that happy about it, either. I guess that’s because that meant I may not be as independent as I thought. And that was pretty much the only thing that kept me alive this far.

I just sighed and looked back at my patient.

After about half an hour of looking through his vitals, his medical history, his charts, everything, I think the only reason was that he had that heart attack was the respirator faltering. Someone set the wires up a little loosely.

Elliot is not going to like me telling her Keith was responsible.

So I wrote it down, along with the required reminder to Keith to be more careful, and I went to the on-call room and waited.

I groaned when I finally realized that everything was sore. My headache was getting worse, and my body felt like it was throbbing.

I reached into my backpack and pulled out my painkillers, and checked the dosage. I needed to take two.

But I, being the idiot that I am, tried to see what would happened if I took four.

I did, and after a little while, I felt much better, and even slightly light headed. I hid a smile to myself. I’d have to do this more often.

So I just lay there for a little while and looked at the ceiling, and after a while that little buzz in my head died down.

I sighed again and got up and went outside so I could just walk around and see if anyone needed help. Right around now, four thirty to six thirty, was some of the most hectic times of the day. Someone must need my help, even if it’s just Elliot down in the free clinic.

“Carla?” I asked her at the nurse’s station. “Need any help with anything?”
“Not now, Bambi, I got a lot o’ paperwork that only I can do. Please talk to me later,” she said, not even looking up at me from the pile in front of her.

“But Carla-”

“NOT NOW!”

I sighed. She just had some stress and was taking it out on me, mainly because I wouldn’t fight back. Everyone knew I didn’t fight back.

So I left when she seemed to want absolutely no one to talk to her. But before I left I grabbed a piece of paper to fold in half so it could stand on it’s own, and on the side people would see, I scrawled ‘Busy. Don’t talk to me, ask Laverne -Carla’.

I went down to see Cox and he, too, yelled at me to get away. Turk wasn’t that busy, so he tried to get some sleep, so he asked me to leave him alone in the on call room.

On the door there was now a note saying ‘Sleeping’.

“Elliot?” I asked her. She was overseeing a patient. “Need any help?”
“Not now, JD. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“JD, I can handle a few patients on my own, despite what others may think,” she huffed. “So if you’re trying to call me incompetent, it’s not going to work.”

“I-”

But then her pager started buzzing.

“LATER!” she said to me and then ran out. Probably something to do with the ICU.

I guess I once again had nothing to do, so I just grabbed my stuff and went home.

Carla sighed when she finally finished her paperwork just as Turk came up to her.

“You look like you had a nice nap,” she told him.

“Yeah, I know. It’s weird; no one even opened the door to my on-call room. I had a great sleep for the last two and a half hours.”

“I know, no one bugged me, either.” She said.

“Well, duh, not with that note.”

“What note?”
He pointed to a paper folded in half, and at her confused face, turned it around.

Busy.

Don’t talk to me, ask Laverne

-Carla

“I didn’t write that,” Carla said. “Who did…oh.”

“What?”
“I snapped at JD that I needed to be left alone. I guess he wrote that.”

Turk looked down, thoughtful for a second.

“I’ll be right back. I’m just going to check something.”
Carla followed Turk anyway. He was actually surprised to see a note taped to the door saying ‘Sleeping’.

“I guess he did me a favor, too,” Turk said.

“Hey, guys,” Elliot said. “Hey, Carla? Care to double check on a few rounds for me? I wanted to ask you earlier, but your note said to leave you alone.”
Carla looked down at her feet.

“JD left that.”
“He went home,” Elliot said. “Now I really don’t want to tell him.”
“Gotta break it to him, soon,” Turk said.

They all sighed.

I got home and I had plans, but at the moment I just crashed right into the couch and lay there and thought back to my day.

I was starting to realize that no one had people riding on them and bugging them as me. I wondered why, until I remembered what was different between me and them: while they actually got pissed from it, I didn’t fight back or anything. I just accepted what others say and keep going. Sometimes there’s an apology, though most of the time there isn’t.

The only thing was, it all kept building up. And I wasn’t sure how long it would be before I exploded.

I was starting to think I was just everyone’s stress-ball. They had stress, they took it out on me. Not that I wasn’t used to it. A lot of people yelled at me when I was younger because I didn’t fight back, and my mom literally used me as a punching bag, part of the reason why I was so desperate to get away from her. I suppose that’s why I could handle things on my own more than others, I never had anyone really looking out for me.

Great. Now I was the whole world’s punching bag. That really explained a lot.

I finally felt a little more energized and got up from the couch. After all, I only had a week to move out.

A little later I sighed when I looked back at my room. After Elliot’s news, I grabbed a few cardboard boxes on the way home. I couldn’t pack everything right now, and knowing real estate, we didn’t have long to move out without paying another month’s rent. I wouldn’t put her through that. Until I found another place, I’ll camp out on my porch.

So I started with most of my clothes, and a few of my photo albums and stuff like that. A few miscellaneous things here and there, and some digital things, too. I recently got something set up so I can have one pair of electrical outlets near my porch.

I also got some canned food and non-perishables, and a few drinks in a mini-cooler. Just a few fruit juices and stuff. I also packed a pot, a pan, and a few plates, bowls, and some cutlery. I also got this small tackle box down from the closet shelf and filled it with my medicine and stuff.

All of that took up a grand total of about six boxes.

So I also grabbed his box that had my camping stuff in it. A large tent, a double layer sleeping bag for winter or summer, a Bunsen burner with some extra gas, and a first aid thingy and a battery-run lantern and a flashlight, and a battery run heater/cooler.

I also filled another box with some small, metal poles and all the blankets I had, about six of them.

So I had about six boxes, all about 18 inch cubes, a medical tackle box, and a two-foot cube with my camping stuff in it. I would now just have to ask Turk to borrow his car.

Elliot came home and looked at me lying down on the couch, watching ESPN without really watching it, and the couch surrounded by boxes.

“JD?”
“I was awake at lunch,” I said simply. She looked a little shell shocked, but then came to her senses in a moment.

“So where are you going?”

“I’m gonna hang at my porch, for a while,” I said.

“JD, we can pay for another month for you to find a good place. Or-”

“Elliot, I’m not made of glass. I’ll be just fine.”
“JD-”

“Elliot!” that got her to stop talking for a moment. “The rent expires in about two weeks. These are the things that I’m keeping. This weekend I’ll grab everything else and next weekend I’ll hold a yard sale. That’ll work. In the mean time, you can start packing.”

She looked a little heartbroken, so I just got up and knocked on Turk’s door a minute later.

“Vanilla Bear?” Turk asked.

“Hey, can I borrow your van? I know you only got the new one a month ago, but I really need it for tonight.”

“What for?”

“I was awake at lunch. I need to get some boxes moved. Oh, and next weekend I’ll hold a sale, spread the word. On my porch and half acre. So can I borrow it?”

“JD, if you need a place to crash-”

“I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Carla!” he called out anyway. “JD was is going to move out and camp out at his place. Can you please convince him to stay with us?”
“Bambi, you really-”

“I’ll take this as I can’t borrow the car,” I said, cutting her off. Turk sighed and told me that I could borrow it.

So I went back and took all my stuff and put it in his car and drove my stuff to The Porch.

I spent the next two hours setting up the tent, the stove, and putting my stuff inside my tent, thankful that it was large.

My tent was somewhere between a dome and a pyramid, so I took the four of the poles and got one to stand upright at each corner. I draped one blanket over all of them, making a sort of roof for my tent, and I took three more and attached them in between the other ones, making walls. The last one, the one in front of the opening to me tent, I made it a sort of flap.

I was really starting to think it was a bad idea to start camping out here in the middle of winter, and it was going to snow in about three weeks, but I figures I’d wing it.

As my sleeping bag was now in a corner, I used the last fleece, rather large, to make a bit of a carpet. The parts not under sleeping bag or ‘carpet’ were under the ones with the boxes.

I set up the Bunsen burner outside and the heater on the inside.

I was finished two hours later just as my cell phone started ringing.

“Vanilla Bear?”

“Hello, Chocolate Bear. Before you ask, I’m fine. I’m going to go back while I have a few nights in my own room left.”
“Are you sure you’re going to want to live in a tent?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just set it up, making it a little more homey.”

“Come by our place before you go back, all right?”
“Yeah. See ya,”
We hung after he said goodbye, so I just grabbed his car and drove back. I was going to sleep in my own place one last night.

“JD,” Elliot said. “I just called him, and Keith wouldn’t mind you moving into our house with us.”
“Elliot. I’ll be fine. I made my place all nice and homey. Seeing as tomorrow I get the morning shift off, and because I’m supposed not because of a hangover, I’ll finish setting it up.”

“JD,”

“I’m fine.”

I’ll have to figure out how to get them to stop treating me like glass. I know I was a little depressed after losing Kim and Jamie, but I had to get on with life.

I went to bed and woke up the next morning with a cramp in my neck, telling me not to sleep with my chin touching my chest again. I realized it was almost eleven, and my shift started.

Before I went to my tent, Turk told me to stop by their apartment. Carla gave me a box with some of her rice and chicken so I would have something substantial then canned crap for lunch. It also had a few cupcakes that everyone knew I loved.

So I went back and unpacked a few things here and there, and ate my lunch from Carla. Some left over rice and cupcakes I saved for later tonight.

I went and got a few things fixed up so my land was an actual address, and I even got a mailbox for right in front of my porch.

I went to work later and so far no one really knew I moved. I had to fill out some paperwork from Laverne about an address change, but she also didn’t know it was just a tent. I had asked the others to keep it low of where I now lived. Maybe this time people would leave me alone.

I finished my rounds, check on Donakelli and King, and dealt with some paperwork, and pretty soon, all I had to do was be in the on call room. But right now, I was in the bathroom.

I just…relieved myself and took a look in my mirror. I didn’t gel my hair up this morning so it was hanging down. Actually, now that it was longer, I personally thought it better suited me. It fell right into my eyes, blocking people from really seeing me, and it was longer in the back, touching my neck. Maybe I should take Candy’ suggestion of dying it black.

Well, everything else around me is changing, why not may hair? Get it cut a little…

Yeah, I think I’m listening to Candy a bit too much.

So I just got my backpack after my shift was over, and I got on my bike, and cruised on home.

I had to smile a little at the irony when I reached my tent. I live in a TENT, but I owned land. Kinda weird, when you think about it.

And I honestly wanted to see what it was like, even though I probably would spend a few more days in my actual apartment. I’ll go back to normal in a few days, for a few days, anyway.

So I parked my bike and climbed into my tent. One thing I worried about was people stealing my stuff. I’d have to get a camera on the deck or something, and hope people just don’t want to take a “hobo’s” stuff. They probably won’t.

I’ll keep the money form my yard sale as back up solely for if I was robbed.

So with that as a barely comforting thought, I crawled exhaustedly into my sleeping bag and went to sleep the moment my head hit my squishy pillow.