YAY! A story! Anyway, since I didn't have enough room in the summary box, here is the summary of ze story!
Frank is a patient as a hospital because he has cancer, and he pretty much lives there. Gerard is an out-patient at the same hospital because he is anorexic, and the doctors there are supposed to be 'the best.' He spends most of his days there; it's like a 9 to 5 to him. What happens when Gerard ends up moving into the hospital, and only a short distance from Frank's room.
Please review, whether it be critiquing or praise. But please, do not 'hate' on my writing.
January 12, 1997
Dear Diary/ Journal Thingy,
My mom's making me write in this diary thing. She said it might help me, emotionally that is, so I figure, what's the harm. Here goes.
I'm Frank Iero, I'm 17, and my life is a living hell. It started when I was five and I was diagnosed with kidney cancer. The doctors had caught it in time, so that they could remove surgically. I was then cancer free for nearly five years before they informed me that it had come back and was beginning to spread, but it hadn't affected anything else yet. They said that surgery wouldn't cure it this time, but that with a year of chemotherapy it should be gone. A year came and went, and they eventually gave up on the chemo. I spent two years in and out of the hospital, and I was still attending school regularly. When I was fifteen the cancer had spread to my lungs, so I was placed in the hospital perminately, and I only got to go home every few months.
I knew all of the doctors by name and a few of the patients, since I was constantly wondering around the hospital out of boredom. My doctor had been reluctant at first, but now he doesn't care. There was only one instance when something bad happened to me whilst I was roaming around; my stomach had cramped up and I had to sit in the hallway until one of the nurses noticed me and helped me back to my room.
I've gotten myself on a schedule in the past few months, I wake up at nine, when the nurses bring me food and my pills and then the doctor comes in shortly after I finish eating to check up on me. When he gives me the okay, I drag the thing that holds my IV and some beepy thing around behind me, I wander around for three hours, occasionally stopping to sit or chat with the nurses that had been there since the previous evening; I also chatted with some of the older patients. My favorite being Sam, he has cancer and a failing heart, and won't last much longer, but he jokes with me all of the time.
Around 12 I head back to my room for lunch, more pills and a visit from my mother. She visits as much as she can, but she still has a job to uphold. After I eat, I make my way back out of the room; I gossip with the more talkative nurses that weren't tired from a hard days work. I go back to my room after making my rounds and read whatever book my mom had brought, or watch whatever movie. She always brings something for me to do, she even bought a puzzle once, but not matter what, it is always something new to. I've never had to do the same exact thing twice. I would read any book from romance, to sci-fi, and I'd watched a few romance series, I was in the middle of Dawson's Creek at the moment (what can I say, I'm desperate.) And at six the nurses arrive with more food and shortly after the doctor comes back in. I usually go to bed around 7:30, or eight, if I still had enough energy, I get so exhausted, between my meds and the occasional chemo, I never had much energy left towards the end of the day.
Well, I guess that's enough for one day.
Bye Diary/ Journal Thingy
P.S. Are you even supposed to say buy to a journal thingy?
P.P.S. I guess I can add writing to my list of daily events.
P.P.P.S. Does P.S. even count in a journal?
P.P.P.P.S. I think I'm going to call you a journal from now on.
P.P.P.P.P.S. Ta ta for now (maybe I over did the P.S.'s a bit...)
Frank sat in his room as he saw the hours tick away. Today was one of the days that he wouldn't dare move, in fear that pain would follow. He kept his shades drawn and the lights off while he stared at nothing in particular. The nurses and doctors always got worried when he was like this, but during their conversations over the subject, they always came back with the fact of the whole situation that was thrust upon him at such a young age. Everyone in the hospital had grown to like Frank, and they were all a bit sympathetic towards him, though he never seemed to notice, or at least pretended not to. He always listened intently to what others had to say. Apparently spending most of your life in a hospital will also teach you manners, or maybe that's just the way Frank is.
He didn't spill to the nurses what his problem was today, instead keeping the fact that his only friend, Ray, as supposed to visit him, but bailed because of a date. He had known Ray since they were little, and he was always there for his sick friend. But when Frank was placed in the hospital for good, he didn't visit as much, and he made new friends, and even found himself a girlfriend. Frank absolutely hated being holed up in the hospital, he'd much rather be out in the would, getting wasted like a normal teenager. But he knew that that could never happen and that mourning over it would only make the matter worse. Although, he continued to dream about hanging our with his friends and possibly having a boyfriend, but most of all, having the opportunity to live.