Author's note: I've been traveling all weekend, and just got back today. I took my little guy to see Thomas the Train in Boothbay, Maine. So there are probably more spelling issues with this chapter. Anyone interested in Beta reading this story is welcome to drop me a line.
Roadblock woke some time later in the infirmary, with the worse hangover headache of his life.
"I told you never to run PT without breakfast!" Nurse Maggie said angrily. It took her a lot to get angry, but when she did, she was scary. Her red hair stood on end around her head like a fiery hallow.
Roadblock stammered a littler. "Everyone knows you can't run PT on a full stomach."
"There is a difference between full and fasting. You," she pointed a finger at him, "soldier can no longer do it fasting." She handed him a can. "You should at least take a cup of this."
Roadblock looked at the protein shake powder and wrinkled his nose. He hated that stuff. He could smell the stink of it through the can.
"You don't have to go with that. It is just what I use. Two slices of whole wheat bread, some peanut butter, and fruit will do the same. Just eat an hour before you go."
Roadblock grumbled.
"I can have Doc pull you off of morning PT all together."
"No!" Most would have been excited to be exempted from the torture called morning PT, but for Roadblock it was a mark that he was whole again, still a soldier. Part of him was still in denial that his field days were over. He just had to get back into shape.
"Okay. Doc will be by in a bit. He will tell you how long you have to stay here, and when you can return to duty."
"I feel fine," Roadblock grumbled.
"Yes you do dear!" Nurse Maggie said with a severity in her tone that has tamed worse patients than him. "You only have splitting headache for that mild concussion and probably some nausea from that little no breakfast stunt." Her eyes were as dark as stormy clouds, and it was as if lightning cracked trough her hair. "You are going to stay in that bed until Doc gives you the all clear. Hear me?"
"Yes Ma'am!"
"Good! As soon as Doc gives the okay, I'll send you some breakfast."
About fifteen minute later, Doc came by. "I am keeping you here until morning," he said without preamble.
Roadblock groaned.
"Hey, this is all your own doing," the doctor said. "You were told not to do PT fasting. We are getting ready for a mission, so it is easier for my staff to keep an eye on you here, rather than having someone got to your room every few hours. And I will feel better when I see your sugar levels back under control."
"When can I go back to PT?" Roadblock asked.
"The day after tomorrow. But you have to come here first, to get checked out."
Roadblock laid his head back and sighed.
Doc sat on the foot of Roadblock's bed. "Listen, I understand that every soldier that comes through here feels out of control. But you can be 100% in control of your diabetes. You control what and when you eat. You control your insulin. You document things right and this will not happen again. The only time things might be a get a little out of whack is if you get sick."
Roadblock was silent. He certainly did not feel in control.
"I've got something for you," Doc said holding out something small. Roadblock took it. "It is a Medical Alert medal. I would like you to add it to your dog tag chain."
"Don't these come as bracelets?" the patient asked turning the medal over and reading the fine-print on the back.
"They do, but they also come as medals. I figured that if you have it with your dog tags, you are less likely to 'forget' it somewhere."
Roadblock took off his dog tags and added the medal to the chain.
The next morning when Roadblock got back to his room, he found bar size fridge at the foot of his bunk with a toaster on top. Held by a magnet, was a copy of the diabetic food guide. In the fridge, he found whole wheat bread, peanut butter and apples.
Some Joe's share apartment style quarters, but most shared rooms with 2, 4 or 6 beds, set as double bunks. Roadblock had his two bed bunk to himself, ever since Footloose had been killed in action the year before.
There was a knock at the door.
"It is not locked," he called out.
A greenshirt, Roadblock recognised as being General Hawk's assistant stepped in.
"Sir, the General request that you come to his office at 0930."
Roadblock glanced at his watch that was forty five minutes away.
"Tell the General I'll be there."
"Yes, Sir." The young man almost, but not quite clicked his heels together and left.
Roadblock watch the door close and then looked around the room. It was as tidy as he had left it the morning before. Looking for something to do, and not wanting to face a public area just yet, he grabbed a cloth from the cabinet under the sink in his small bathroom and started to dust the room. He liked to be ready for surprise inspections. It also gave him something to take his mind off the upcoming meeting.