Page 114 of Habits

Red light flashes and all hell breaks loose.

Jeanette

“Yeah?” I mumble into my phone, not even looking who’s calling. The stupid device started vibrating, and no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, it wouldn’t stop and I couldn’t concentrate on my calculus homework.

Not that I could concentrate to begin with. My mind was too busy trying to figure out the mess that is my life to worry about something as trivial as homework.

“Jeanette, honey, I need you to go to Dad’s office. He left some papers on his desk and he needs them at the hospital.” Mom’s peachy voice comes from the other side of the line.

“And do what with them?” I groan, half my brain still concentrated on the problem in front of me.

“You have to take them to him.”

“Can’t you do that?”

The last thing I want to do is go to the hospital and see my dad. Surely somebody else can do it.

“I’m at the PTA meeting, and Max has that away game.”

Forgetting about the problem in my notebook, I massage my temples, which suddenly throb painfully and it has nothing to do with math.

“Fine,” I agree reluctantly. My headache will only become worse if I keep fighting her on this, and it’s not like I’m in a state of mind to actually try and finish my homework.

She tells me what to look for, the commotion of voices behind her growing louder, and then she hangs up on me.

Sighing, I set my phone down on the desk before I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling.

I don’t want to go, but it can’t be helped, so I get up, grabbing my bag before I go to the study to look for the damn files.

* * *

As soon as I enter the hospital, the smell of antiseptic and illness surrounds me.

Once upon a time I was addicted to that smell. I used every opportunity I could get to tag along with my dad to the hospital and watch him work. When people would ask me what I want to be when I grow up, I would always say, without a trace of a doubt, “I want to be a doctor just like my daddy.”

I wanted to save people’s lives. I wanted to make a difference.

Until everything changed, me included.

Until the moment I couldn’t save myself. How am I supposed to save somebody else if I can’t save myself?

Now, I haven’t stepped foot inside of a hospital for more than a year. I haven’t stepped within a five-mile radius of hospital. That’s how much I despise it.

Yet, I’m here today, and the smell that once brought me comfort now makes me nauseous. But maybe that doesn’t have as much to do with me being here as it does with my other state.

Breathing through the mouth, my hands grip harder the files in my hands, and my thumb brushes over my lower stomach. A small army of butterflies patters in my abdomen at the touch. I still haven’t gone to the doctor for a check-up. I know I should have called, but I wasn’t ready. Just as much as I wasn’t ready to share this news with anybody else. Before Brook and Lia left my house a few days ago, I swore them to secrecy. If the news got out … I didn’t even want to imagine the proportions of the shit storm it would cause.

Walking through the hallways, my footsteps resound. The chatter and beeping of different machines surrounds me, the smell of antiseptic a constant in the hallways.

It’s always hectic and alive. Strange, considering the amount of people who die here every day. But to me, hospitals always represented life.

Life and hope.

The elevator chimes, and people slowly get out before I and a few others manage to enter. I press the button for the cardiology floor and hang back as the elevator slowly begins to climb.

People—patients, staff and visitors—slowly come and go around their business. Finally, when we reach my floor, I exit.

Walking down the hallway, I see a few people milling around, but not many. That’s the cardiology department for you. One nurse is sitting at the station, and I can see another going through the medicine cabinet. For a second, the first nurse lifts her gaze, and I give her a nod in acknowledgment but don’t stop to say anything. I’ve never been here, so I don’t know her.

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