Chapter 1- David
There are loads of things to do in a hospital given you have the time to do them. Being there as long as I was, I had plenty of time and more. Sometimes, I had so much time that all I could think to do was see how fast I could take a wheelchair down the hall. You can only go so fast without a slope.
I spent most of my time harassing Bev and Nurse Hal. More Nurse Hal than Bev because male-nurses are anything but manly in my mind. He told me that hospital gowns weren't so manly either but half the time, I preferred them over jeans. I told him to go drink a bedpan and he backed off.
I'll never admit it out loud but typically I get bored. The only reason I'd never say anything is because when I came nearly a year ago, Bev bet me her car I couldn't go through a year without saying that I was bored or any form of the phrase. It was a nice car (doctors always have nice things) and though she said I wouldn't be able to drive it anyways, I'd do it. She knew that too.
Since I couldn't complain about boredom, I had to complain about everything else. I tried to focus most complaints on Nurse Hal because he was easily offended or embarrassed. It was sad to say his visits were the most fun part of my days. Bev's were good in a different way but I didn't see her everyday. I faked weird problems when I thought she should pay me a visit.
Sometimes I felt like a six year old trapped in a very ill seventeen year old body that felt like I was ninety. I thought of childish things to do rather than be mature like the younger patients. They read books or colored. I liked to go bigger than that.
That's how I met Zoe. She came into the hospital on the same day I started a nice little mural in the second floor hall. I would have made it more public but Hal would have put a stop to it before I could even get the first spot of paint.
Zoe was a sullen little creature who came up with Dr. Waybright and two awkward parents. She was the sort you see sitting outside a gas station, smoking at mid-night on a weekday. Her hair was dyed black and eyes lined with make-up. Her skinny jeans were too loose for his tiny frame.
She stopped at my mural, letting Dr. Waybright and her parents walk on as they discussed treatment.
"You're a rubbish painter."
The first emotional stage of denial had obviously not yet passed and she was taking it out on me. I decided to smile because I knew I was a rubbish painter and that's what made it fun. "You're a rubbish critic. I've barely started."
She sucked at her lip ring like a fish to a hook. I rubbed my bald head, wishing for the full hair I had a year ago. I used to be a majestic beast if I do say so myself. I still was, but sort of like a shaved lion, not as majestic.
She just stared at the wall awhile, zoning away on thoughts that probably weren't related to it at all.
"Once you're settled, feel free to correct my mistakes, Picasso."
"Picasso is rubbish too. I prefer Dali."
I inwardly rolled my eyes but outwardly shrugged a shoulder.
"Zoe!" Her mum called for her from down the hall. I hated when people shouted, they tended to do it when I was sleeping. No one understood how annoying it was until they were a patient.
I waved with a semi-sarcastic smile. "Best of luck, Zoe."
She didn't move for a moment then slowly wandered towards the room where her parents waited.
A piece of me felt sorry for the girl. I remembered my first day but there was no sense making mountains out of molehills. So instead of wasting my energy feeling sorry for her, I spent it on whistling along to songs from Bev's Ipod.
