Categories > Celebrities > Panic! At The Disco > Sick and sad patients, On first name basis with all the top physicians
I Think They Found Another Cure, For Broke Hearts and Feeling Insecure
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I Think They Found Another Cure, For Broke Hearts and Feeling Insecure
Brendon’s POV
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
I monitored another sleeping patient.
Today was a young girl, 23, I’m not gonna lie, she was hot, but a model, so that’s kinda her job.
She had just gotten into a car accident... on the way to the hospital, ironically enough.
Not only does she have lung cancer, she now has a crushed leg that’s in pieces.
She was a smoker, which gave her cancer. Truth be told I see lots of models, considering it is NYC, but probably half of them smoke. I don’t know what it is, but there are not words to express how stupid they are for doing so. Kids ‘look up to them’ and what do they do? They infect their bodies with all the toxins. Its a little bit on the unattractive side. The brace on her leg may be a tad unattractive for clients, too, but I’m sure she could still hand model, or face model, or something along those lines.
“Mkay, I think she’s good.” Ryan mumbled, sewing up the leg of the patient.
“What does this remind you of?” I asked Ryan, as fiddled with the knife.
“I don’t know, what?” He kept his eyes on his work, with a hint of curiosity in his voice.
“Summer of ’11. We had a case like this. The patient had gotten into a plane crash, her shoulder was torn in five different places...” I started slowly, waiting for him to catch on.
“Right right right,” He reminisced, “that was probably one of the most tiring and longest cases of my life.”
“Yeahhh. The things we do for Caro.” I nodded, ever so sarcastically.
“The things we do for women in general,” he rolled his eyes, “so what does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing, just,” I looked down at the small clipboard hanging from the operating table, “Audrey looks a lot like Caro.”
Her skin a bit tan, the hair was oddly a shade of dark blue, full lips.
“Ehh, a little.” He said, childishly, and put his utensils down.
“I should probably wake her up now...” I noted.
“Yeah, as much as I’d like to you know, stare at her naked leg the whole day, I’ve got a hot date tonight...” Ryan trailed off, looking at his watch.
“Yeah, well I wouldn’t wanna make you late.considering its almost noon. Natalie would freak knowing that you’re here, spending time with models under the control of drugs.” I continued in waking the girl up, and slowly stroking her cheek with my thumb.
“Hey Audrey, you’re surgery went well, you’ll be better than okay” I soothed, “how are you feeling?”
Her eyes fluttered open, her eyes filled with tiredness, and medicine. Lots and lots of medicine.
“Er, I feel okay.” A small voice said from her barely parted lips.
“Okay, well thats good. I’ll let you rest for a bit. Your family’s outside, I’ll let them know you’re fine, and taking back Sunday.” I kept my soft tone.
“Mkayy..” She slurred, closed her eyelids shut, and fell back asleep.
“She’s taking back Sunday?” Ryan chuckled, confused.
“And that’s how I know she’s not fully conscience.” I laughed, nobody really got my logic. You have to say something completely irrelevant and if I question you, then you know they’re fully awake, if not, then they just don’t give a shit about anything, and go just goes back to sleep, that way you know not to say anything important. They won’t remember.
I walked out of the surgery room, and threw my gloves on the counter, and looked up at the clock hanging on the wall.
Fifteen past twelve, its my lunch time. My next case is at one. Just how I like it.
I jumped into the elevator, and pressed 1, resisting the urge to press all 29 of the buttons.
The cafeteria was probably my favorite place in the whole hospital, but then again, it’d be kinda crude to say your favorite was the operating room, considering people die there.
I grabbed my tray and filled up on some Mac & Cheese. I wasn’t one for fancy foods that I can’t even pronounce. I like comfort foods. That’s why me and Monica get along so well, she didn’t really like cooking, but when I really begged her to, she went back to the basics.
The cafeteria was pretty much empty, except for the random old timers and Paige sitting at a table, texting. I took a seat at her table, waiting for her to get off her phone.
“Heyyyyyyy.” She smiled, once the device was in her pocket.
“Suuuuppppp?” I copied her tone, chuckling at the sound of my impression.
“Nothing, just thinking, and stuffs. The usual.” She chewed a piece of her chicken, staring off into space.
“Watcha thinking about?” I asked, then I realized my mistake. You never ask Paige what she’s thinking about because she’ll go on and on for hours about her problems and thoughts, and then ask your input about it, then continue on with her problems and thought like you never said any of your input, then when she’s all finished, the term ‘I suck at life’ is usually used.
“Brendon, do you like what you do?” She asked me, looking away from where ever she was looking before, now studying my eyes.
“Is that like asking do I like who I do, then in that case, yes I do.” I joked.
(bahaha, I miss my other story where I could write 384790 smexual jokes and get away with it)
She rolled her eyes, stabbing the poor chicken on her plate.
“I am not asking you about your sexual relations here, kay. Just answer the goddamn mother fucking question. Do you like your job?” She asked, trying to get me to be serious.
“Well, I do, trust me, I do like being an anesthesiologist but its just so frustrating. Why do you ask?” I answered, taking a bite of cheesy goodness.
“To be honest, you don’t really seem like you do.” She tilted her hair, exposing her freaking huge diamond earring to the world. I think if she stayed like that for another hour the light bouncing off that thing would be enough to tan my ridiculously pale skin.
“Why do you say that?” I asked, taken back.
“You come here, and complain. You go home, and complain. We go out to dinner, and you complain.” She stated, moving her hands as she talked.
“I mean it is rewarding, but all I can really think of is the consequences of if anything goes wrong, and the snotty and annoying patients I see everyday. Its stressful, you don’t even know.” I shook my head, taking a sip of my coke.
“I don’t even know?! I don’t even know?! Brendon, may I remind you of what I do on a daily basis? I actually operate. I actually have to find the problems and fix them. No, you may keep people alive, but they come to see me. Need I remind you that you’re not the only one who keeps people’s hearts beating? You don’t see me complaining. When something goes seriously wrong, when their heart actually does stop beating, who actually does something? Who actually has to cut and sew? No, I’m sorry, not you, but me. And do you wanna know what else? I-” I cut her off before she stabbed me in the face.
“anesthesiologist, you do know. I don’t know, some people deal with the stress differently. You talk about your stress, I just chose to complain. But, anyhow why do you ask?” I felt a gust of wind on my face from the door, shivering at the the drop of temperature.
“It’s just, do you think there’s a bigger reason to why we’re really here. Like, why we’re where we are today. Do you think we’ll end up actually accomplishing crap, because let’s be honest, we’re just doing our jobs, and that’s not much of an accomplishment.” She asked, another question I can’t just answer off the top of my head.
I thought for a little bit, I don’t necessarily ask myself deep questions before I go to sleep.
“I think we’ve effected lives already, because frankly, without either of us, many people would probably be dead, in all honesty. But I honestly don’t think, I’m gonna do anything that’s really gonna change the face of the earth. I don’t think I’m destine to move mountains.” I answered, really meaning my answer. I’m not into that to that whole Confucius crap. I’m logical. I believe science. I don’t think everything happens for a reason, I just, I can’t believe it.
“I don’t know, its just I feel one day, we’re gonna accomplish something. Something that people are gonna remember. Or at least I hope we do. I’ve been alive for too damn long not to accomplish something, and if something amazing doesn’t happen by the time I’m 70, I’m asking God for a refund on my life.” She rolled her eyes, taking a final sip from her straw, then shaking her cup revealing there is much ice content still left.
“Okay, well good luck with that. Tell Jesus I said hi.” I said sarcastically, finishing off the rest of my food.
“Will do, Brendon, will do. Look I’ve got people to save and hearts to break, I’ll see you later.” She flashed me a smile, picking up her tray, getting up and walking past me.
Holy damn she smells pretty. I finished off my food, and walked around aimlessly.
Destined for great things?
Bullshit.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yeah, so pretty much nothing happened.
I just wanted ya’ll to understand Urie more.
I honestly know where I’m going with this story, and some scandalous shit is gonna go down next chappy, stay tuned.
And yes. I do smell pretty. At least once a week I get a ‘you smell really good’
I really don’t have the energy to reply to all of the reviews, but thank you all so very much
Brendon’s POV
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
I monitored another sleeping patient.
Today was a young girl, 23, I’m not gonna lie, she was hot, but a model, so that’s kinda her job.
She had just gotten into a car accident... on the way to the hospital, ironically enough.
Not only does she have lung cancer, she now has a crushed leg that’s in pieces.
She was a smoker, which gave her cancer. Truth be told I see lots of models, considering it is NYC, but probably half of them smoke. I don’t know what it is, but there are not words to express how stupid they are for doing so. Kids ‘look up to them’ and what do they do? They infect their bodies with all the toxins. Its a little bit on the unattractive side. The brace on her leg may be a tad unattractive for clients, too, but I’m sure she could still hand model, or face model, or something along those lines.
“Mkay, I think she’s good.” Ryan mumbled, sewing up the leg of the patient.
“What does this remind you of?” I asked Ryan, as fiddled with the knife.
“I don’t know, what?” He kept his eyes on his work, with a hint of curiosity in his voice.
“Summer of ’11. We had a case like this. The patient had gotten into a plane crash, her shoulder was torn in five different places...” I started slowly, waiting for him to catch on.
“Right right right,” He reminisced, “that was probably one of the most tiring and longest cases of my life.”
“Yeahhh. The things we do for Caro.” I nodded, ever so sarcastically.
“The things we do for women in general,” he rolled his eyes, “so what does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing, just,” I looked down at the small clipboard hanging from the operating table, “Audrey looks a lot like Caro.”
Her skin a bit tan, the hair was oddly a shade of dark blue, full lips.
“Ehh, a little.” He said, childishly, and put his utensils down.
“I should probably wake her up now...” I noted.
“Yeah, as much as I’d like to you know, stare at her naked leg the whole day, I’ve got a hot date tonight...” Ryan trailed off, looking at his watch.
“Yeah, well I wouldn’t wanna make you late.considering its almost noon. Natalie would freak knowing that you’re here, spending time with models under the control of drugs.” I continued in waking the girl up, and slowly stroking her cheek with my thumb.
“Hey Audrey, you’re surgery went well, you’ll be better than okay” I soothed, “how are you feeling?”
Her eyes fluttered open, her eyes filled with tiredness, and medicine. Lots and lots of medicine.
“Er, I feel okay.” A small voice said from her barely parted lips.
“Okay, well thats good. I’ll let you rest for a bit. Your family’s outside, I’ll let them know you’re fine, and taking back Sunday.” I kept my soft tone.
“Mkayy..” She slurred, closed her eyelids shut, and fell back asleep.
“She’s taking back Sunday?” Ryan chuckled, confused.
“And that’s how I know she’s not fully conscience.” I laughed, nobody really got my logic. You have to say something completely irrelevant and if I question you, then you know they’re fully awake, if not, then they just don’t give a shit about anything, and go just goes back to sleep, that way you know not to say anything important. They won’t remember.
I walked out of the surgery room, and threw my gloves on the counter, and looked up at the clock hanging on the wall.
Fifteen past twelve, its my lunch time. My next case is at one. Just how I like it.
I jumped into the elevator, and pressed 1, resisting the urge to press all 29 of the buttons.
The cafeteria was probably my favorite place in the whole hospital, but then again, it’d be kinda crude to say your favorite was the operating room, considering people die there.
I grabbed my tray and filled up on some Mac & Cheese. I wasn’t one for fancy foods that I can’t even pronounce. I like comfort foods. That’s why me and Monica get along so well, she didn’t really like cooking, but when I really begged her to, she went back to the basics.
The cafeteria was pretty much empty, except for the random old timers and Paige sitting at a table, texting. I took a seat at her table, waiting for her to get off her phone.
“Heyyyyyyy.” She smiled, once the device was in her pocket.
“Suuuuppppp?” I copied her tone, chuckling at the sound of my impression.
“Nothing, just thinking, and stuffs. The usual.” She chewed a piece of her chicken, staring off into space.
“Watcha thinking about?” I asked, then I realized my mistake. You never ask Paige what she’s thinking about because she’ll go on and on for hours about her problems and thoughts, and then ask your input about it, then continue on with her problems and thought like you never said any of your input, then when she’s all finished, the term ‘I suck at life’ is usually used.
“Brendon, do you like what you do?” She asked me, looking away from where ever she was looking before, now studying my eyes.
“Is that like asking do I like who I do, then in that case, yes I do.” I joked.
(bahaha, I miss my other story where I could write 384790 smexual jokes and get away with it)
She rolled her eyes, stabbing the poor chicken on her plate.
“I am not asking you about your sexual relations here, kay. Just answer the goddamn mother fucking question. Do you like your job?” She asked, trying to get me to be serious.
“Well, I do, trust me, I do like being an anesthesiologist but its just so frustrating. Why do you ask?” I answered, taking a bite of cheesy goodness.
“To be honest, you don’t really seem like you do.” She tilted her hair, exposing her freaking huge diamond earring to the world. I think if she stayed like that for another hour the light bouncing off that thing would be enough to tan my ridiculously pale skin.
“Why do you say that?” I asked, taken back.
“You come here, and complain. You go home, and complain. We go out to dinner, and you complain.” She stated, moving her hands as she talked.
“I mean it is rewarding, but all I can really think of is the consequences of if anything goes wrong, and the snotty and annoying patients I see everyday. Its stressful, you don’t even know.” I shook my head, taking a sip of my coke.
“I don’t even know?! I don’t even know?! Brendon, may I remind you of what I do on a daily basis? I actually operate. I actually have to find the problems and fix them. No, you may keep people alive, but they come to see me. Need I remind you that you’re not the only one who keeps people’s hearts beating? You don’t see me complaining. When something goes seriously wrong, when their heart actually does stop beating, who actually does something? Who actually has to cut and sew? No, I’m sorry, not you, but me. And do you wanna know what else? I-” I cut her off before she stabbed me in the face.
“anesthesiologist, you do know. I don’t know, some people deal with the stress differently. You talk about your stress, I just chose to complain. But, anyhow why do you ask?” I felt a gust of wind on my face from the door, shivering at the the drop of temperature.
“It’s just, do you think there’s a bigger reason to why we’re really here. Like, why we’re where we are today. Do you think we’ll end up actually accomplishing crap, because let’s be honest, we’re just doing our jobs, and that’s not much of an accomplishment.” She asked, another question I can’t just answer off the top of my head.
I thought for a little bit, I don’t necessarily ask myself deep questions before I go to sleep.
“I think we’ve effected lives already, because frankly, without either of us, many people would probably be dead, in all honesty. But I honestly don’t think, I’m gonna do anything that’s really gonna change the face of the earth. I don’t think I’m destine to move mountains.” I answered, really meaning my answer. I’m not into that to that whole Confucius crap. I’m logical. I believe science. I don’t think everything happens for a reason, I just, I can’t believe it.
“I don’t know, its just I feel one day, we’re gonna accomplish something. Something that people are gonna remember. Or at least I hope we do. I’ve been alive for too damn long not to accomplish something, and if something amazing doesn’t happen by the time I’m 70, I’m asking God for a refund on my life.” She rolled her eyes, taking a final sip from her straw, then shaking her cup revealing there is much ice content still left.
“Okay, well good luck with that. Tell Jesus I said hi.” I said sarcastically, finishing off the rest of my food.
“Will do, Brendon, will do. Look I’ve got people to save and hearts to break, I’ll see you later.” She flashed me a smile, picking up her tray, getting up and walking past me.
Holy damn she smells pretty. I finished off my food, and walked around aimlessly.
Destined for great things?
Bullshit.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Yeah, so pretty much nothing happened.
I just wanted ya’ll to understand Urie more.
I honestly know where I’m going with this story, and some scandalous shit is gonna go down next chappy, stay tuned.
And yes. I do smell pretty. At least once a week I get a ‘you smell really good’
I really don’t have the energy to reply to all of the reviews, but thank you all so very much
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