Note the clever little twist I put in there to do with another famous sitcom…
Most people don't know that Sacred Heart is open at 3am. It's a secret thing that most doctors and late night bullet victims learn during their careers or shooting incidents. Luckily, no one I knew had a night shift the night I walked down to the hospital. I hoped that people wouldn't recognise me without my scrubs on.
There was no one in the waiting room. The nurse's desk was solely occupied by a tired, young blonde girl, who was dozing over her paperwork. I didn't even realise that she was awake, until she said "Dr Remore will see you now". She stifled a yawn, and I went through to the office.
It was odd, sitting in the cold room at 3:10 am. I wasn't used to being the patient. The room even smelled different; it stank of too many cleaning products, trying to mask the lingering smells of illness.
"Good morning, Dr. Dorian!" said Dr. Remore, shaking my hand in a firm grip. "Yes, you're probably wondering how I know your name. Well, after your little outburst this morning, I could hardly not!"
I smiled at him, trying to show him that I wasn't amused.
Dr. Remore sat down. He was kinda cute, with floppy black hair and a few smile lines. Elliot would have been over him like a shot if she were there. I wished she was there…
"I'm assuming your reason for coming here has something to do with this morning" said the doctor. He was now deadly serious. I nodded.
"I'm worried that it's something more serious than flu. I just want a diagnosis from someone other than myself" I said. Dr. Remore nodded.
"Well, shall we get you in for a scan then? Make sure we just clear it up?"
I nodded.
As I slid under the machine, I imagined someone was there to help me through, even if just for a minute. After all, I couldn't do it all on my own.
I'm no Superman.
And when Dr. Remore gave me the results I'd known had been coming all along, I knew for a fact that that statement was true.
When I got home, Turk and Carla were still asleep, and I managed to get into my room and lock the door again without them hearing. Only then did I allow a tear to fall. Just one. It landed on the carpet, staining it. I sank back onto my bed, as my vision blurred again slightly, and fell quickly asleep.
In the morning, I heard Carla knocking on the door again.
"JD? Bambi, are you alright in there?"
I called back. Best not to worry her too much. "I'm not feeling great…tell Kelso I'm not coming in today!"
"Are you sure, Bambi?"
"Just a bug, I'll be fine!"
I was still slightly disappointed when she left, though.
Through the day, I realised a few things. Firstly, that I was going to die. Secondly, that I was not going to have the treatment that would elongate my life expectancy. Thirdly, that I could not tell anyone either of the other two epiphanies. Not Turk, not Carla, not Elliot, not Perry. Hell, I couldn't even tell my own family. It would be easier to not let them know. Not easier for them. But when you're dying, you feel the entitlement to a little bit of selfishness.
So those were the reasons that I went in next morning with a smile on my face, apologised to everyone for my outburst, and pushed all thoughts of my future out of my head. For now, anyway.