Chapter 5

I get nose bleeds when I'm under stress.

I have to say that our performance was amazing. Probably the best premiere I've ever been in. Or, almost. The last kiss that was choreographed was too real. I guess Apollo's just going through hormonal changes, or he was uncharacteristically nervous. Not that big of a deal, just a little bit creepy. I mean, well- actually, I don't really know where this is going.

I drive home this time. Apollo told me that he has a headache. I'm glad that we drove instead of walked. I'm starving, and it takes a while to walk home from the theater, especially in heels. Pink heels. So much pink…

Apollo mumbles that he's going to bed as soon as we get home. I eat my pasta and return to my drawings. Next show isn't for a week, which is bad for me but good for everyone else. Hn. They don't have to deal with interns.

I don't know how much I have to say it, but I hate my interns. I especially dislike Nettie. She's not ready to work in a real hospital. She should still be in medical school. She freezes up at critical moments, is easily confused, and is always late for rounds. The other four are starting to get it, a little bit. I only have five rules: Walk when I walk, answer pages immediately, don't start relationships with the patients, get as much sleep as possible when possible, and… one other thing that I can't remember at the moment. God I'm tired.

It starts out as a usual day and the hospital. Whining family members, relentless patients, annoying interns- no big deal.

Basem Maddox decided to go through with a mastectomy. Stotch and I will check up on him after he's out of surgery. Zealand Stotch is one of my dad's friends from high school. They kind of have a bromance going on, and probably always will. I've already told you about Zealand's son, Rian. He's cool, we just don't really get together that much anymore. Zealand is a nice old doctor, always going to the pediatric department and reading to the children.

Anyway, Apollo calls me to tell me that he's going over to a friend's house. Didn't tell me who, but it doesn't matter. The intern I named Bibbles, tall guy with blindingly neon curly yellow hair, gives me some charts to sign.

"Um... Doctor Vasik?" he says in a loud whisper before leaving the room. I look around the room, and even though we're alone in the room, I reply in a similar loud whisper.

"What do you want Bibbles?"

"Do you know what the symptoms of..." he closes his mouth. I never said he was smart.

"Honey I don't have all day. What's up and why are you whispering?"

"Never mind, not important. I'll ask someone else," he trips nervously while walking out of the room.

"What's wrong? Do you have an STD or something?" He stops and stares at me.

"How did you know?"

"Lucky guess. Anyway, you're an idiot. Go to room 101 and find doctor Prynne. You know what, let me take you there. You probably don't even know what I am talking about." he opens his mouth to protest, but thinks better of it and closes it. Poor, poor intern. Why did I have to get the stupid ones. We start out of the room and walk through the crowded hallways to the east side of the hospital. This place is huge. Seriously, it's as big as about nine acres, and that's just the building itself. I've never seen the rest of the grounds.

"Who was it?" I ask.

"I'm not comfortable telling you," he replies.

"Nettie?" he stays silent. "So was it Nettie?"

"I hate you," he looks away from me.

"Don't hate me, hate my mad guessing skills. Tell her that she should be tested."

I drop him off at room 101 and leave immediately. Doctor Prynne is a creepy person. Rumor has it that she killed her first husband after she had an affair with a younger man. Her daughter is even scarier. I swear to god she's the spawn of the devil. My father never let me go around her when I was little, I have to plan on going anywhere near around her now.

Surprisingly, I'm not as busy as I thought I would be, being a doctor and all. I'm more of my dad's work monkey than a real physician. I mean I am certified and everything, and I have my own office, but I have patients that my father is too busy (too lazy, really) to see.

I get a call from Apollo after about two hours of doing practice work that my dad's having me do. Apparently he doesn't like the way I do stitches.

"Which of you witch plants are good for headaches?" he says hoarsely from the other line.

"Oh poor baby. Are you sick?" I say in a sickening motherly tone.

"I'm pretty sure I have a cold," he lets out a painful sounding cough.

"If you have a headache, you should have Aemelia make you a tea of... go to my cabinet"

"Yeah."

"Okay..." I take a moment to think, "Once you get there, take a handful of comfrey leaves and mix in in a bag with some fennel, and give the bag to Aemelia and tell her to make you some tea. That should clear up your cough. Anything else?"

"My feet hurt from standing so much, anything for that?"

"You are such a woman. Go take the bag to Aemelia and go watch television. I'll be home at five-ish with some real medicine."

"I'm not a woman, I'm just sick."

"Sure. Bye."

"Bye."

Don't listen to Apollo, he's a woman on the inside and he knows it and is secretly proud.

I'm not dead yet. See you on Monday.