AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hi guys! I decided to make this a two-part POV because I want it to center around Austin and Ally. Remember, don't be afraid to PM me, read my stories and leave reviews (As much as I like reviews, I want you guys to know that you have nothing nice to say about them, don't say anything at all. If you don't like it, don't read it. Just don't be mean, OK? Thanks. However, I do accept constructive criticism and accuracy.) favorite or follow me. I don't bite hahahahahahahahaha.
ALLY:
It had been an hour since I had finished my tea, I started feeling a chill and then I started feeling like I was going to sweat again. Then the chills, then the sweating. Then the chills, then the sweating. In my mind, I was saying to my metabolism and body, MAKE UP YOUR GODDAMN MIND. Are you sweating, or are you freezing? Wait a minute, this didn't seem like a very good sign, because signs of getting chills and sweating flashes at the same time meant you had a fever.
And I already had a fever that had started to drop, and now I was sure it was starting to rise again. I saw Trish, as she was using her MacBook pro, covered in a pink skin with a pink calavera (which was skull in spanish, and she celebrated Day of the dead every year with her whole family) sticker.
I went into another coughing and hacking fit again and now felt the need to retch again. Wonderful. I ran to the bathroom and just spilled out a bunch of vomit three times and I coughed and hacked up a storm. Trish, like the good friend that she was, got up from her spot and ran to the bathroom as if a hurricane was coming.
"Ally, are you OK?"
she asked me, sounding a little panicky.
I coughed and hacked again. I said hoarsely yet sarcastically,
"I feel great. I'm still coughing up a storm (I went into another coughing fit as I said that. And it didn't help that I was coughing up phlegm and every time I had coughed the last three days, it had made me sound like a barking dog or a meth-addicted Marge Simpson), my throat feels like I swallowed a bunch of nails, I just vomited in the toilet-"
I felt the need to vomit again, and I did it in the toilet. At least there was no blood in it this time.
"I have chills and I'm sweating, on and off. On and off."
Trish told me,
"You don't sound better at all, Ally. You sound like Darth Vader."
My friend laid her hand on my forehead.
"HOLY SHIT! You…. are… burning up."
She took the digital thermometer and stuck it under my tongue. It beeped in three seconds.
"One hundred and two point three?! How did your fever rise?"
I said,
"I had chills and sweating flashes."
"If your fever reaches one hundred and four, I'm calling the ER!"
I said,
"It's really sweet that you care."
"Hell yeah! I'm your bitch! Of course I care about you! Now go lay on your bed and rest. You're sick as a dog."
Trish was right about that. I ran upstairs into my dressing room, getting pretty damn dizzy on the way by the way, to grab my bathrobe, because my bed was basically a living room couch. Trish and Jace obviously slept together in the bedroom, and of course them sharing the same bed, meant they had alone time. Yes, that kind of alone time. I knew that they were sexually active because I often found torn condom wrappers on the floor of their room, Trish acquired a few
female masturbation toys (that thankfully I had never walked in on her using, and occasionally I heard her orgasms.
If people were going to have sex and they had a roommate, an in-law (mother, father, sister or brother-in-law), or especially their children, they should really keep their sexual activity as private as possible. Jesus Christ. I walked into my dressing room to grab my white plush bathrobe. I went downstairs and laid back down, dizzy, feverish, and I let out two very thick coughing and hacking fits. Trish was surprisingly willing to take care of me.
When we were in middle school and high school, and it was flu season, she would always come to school in a surgical flu mask (her mom was a nurse at the Miami Children's hospital, so she kind of had easy access to surgical masks), carry hand sanitizer, and also beg her mom to vaccinate her. I went into another coughing and hacking fit and I could see her phone ring.
"Hey, baby,"
I heard her say.
"Oh yeah, burritos sound great. Everything on mine, with nachos, por favor. I'll ask her. Hold on. Ally, Jace is going to get some burritos for dinner, do you want one too?"
I let out a coughing and hacking fit and I said,
"Thanks, but I think I'll just go for some hot soup."
"Alright. She said she'd just settle for soup."
AUSTIN:
I had just gotten off of work and now I was back at my apartment. I worked from seven o'clock in the morning to four o'clock in the afternoon. I took my stethoscope off my neck and put down my bag with the folder with all the paperwork I needed to fill out fit in my bag without getting ruined or coming loose, not to mention I carried hand sanitizer and antibacterial wipes with me, and I took off my lab coat, dress shirt, necktie, slacks, shoes and socks off, and dressed in a green South Miami Hospital tee shirt and gray and green South Miami Hospital sweatpants. I decided to turn on some Ally Dawson music while I collapsed on the couch and filled out the paperwork that I needed to fill out. Whenever my patients visited me, I was required to fill out a report regarding their visit.
It had to have their full name, their race and ethnicity, the languages they spoke, date of birth, South Miami number, policy number, their cell phone number, their work number, their home number, their address, their social security code and why they were there. I had already done Ally's ahead of time, due to her case being one she needed surgery for. I certainly hoped that she would be able to sing, and like she always did. Besides Ally, my patients today were a man named Ted Rogers who was in his mid fifties who had stage one hypertension and high cholesterol due to his poor diet and smoking habits. If it was one thing I absolutely DESPISED, it was cigarettes.
My mom said that her father, my maternal grandfather and my former gynecologist grandmother's (also her mother) husband, had died of bladder cancer when she was twelve years old. My grandmother said that he was a smoking addict for years. Why I hated cigarettes were they were probably the most dangerous things ever invented. Those little fucking death traps did nothing but cause nearly every cancer ever diagnosed, pneumonia, stroke, blindness, heart disease, diabetes, rheumatoid arthritis, birth defects, periodontitis and other kinds of illnesses that could paralyze people or even kill them. Not to mention, it caused more deaths than HIV, alcohol and/or illegal drug overdose or abuse, motor vehicle accidents and firearm related accidents.
In fact, it wasn't just cigarettes I hated- I also hated drunk driving, underage drinking, recreational marijuana, tobacco, cocaine, heroin, methamphetamine and ecstasy, and even "non-alcoholic" drugs like self-harm. The only drugs I was OK with were medical marijuana, antibiotics and other medicines given to people by doctors and over-the-counter medicines such as ibuprofen, robitussin, acetaminophen, nyquil, dayquil and advil. I was a definite advocate for the FDA and I thought they made a smart move to ban cough medicine for young children. Sometimes home ingredients like honey and lemon for coughs and colds or rice in a sock for neck pain, backaches or stomachaches were used on me when I got sick as a kid. Anyway, I'm getting off track here.
Another patient I had, her name was Katie Parker, and I diagnosed her with otitis externa and I had given her antibiotics for it, and it was especially vital for me to fill out papers if I was prescribing antibiotics or any other kind of medicine. When I was filling the papers, I heard my phone ringing. Shit, kind of funny mistake but I left my phone in the pocket of my labcoat. I lived in a suite so I could hear my phone ringing loud and clear from my bedroom. I was getting a FaceTime request from my Dad.
I answered,
"Hey, dad!"
"Hey, son? How's life?"
I said,
"Well, let's see, ever since I got my medical license and my badge from the South Miami Hospital, life's been great."
My mom cooed,
"Hey, sweetie!"
I smiled.
"Hey, mom."
"I hope you stayed warm at the hospital today. It's pretty cold for Miami right now."
I said,
"Oh, Mom and Dad, at the hospital, you'll never guess who one of my patients was today!"
My mom guessed,
"Kim Kardashian?"
My dad guessed,
"Bill Gates?"
I said,
"No. Who's been my celebrity crush since I was in like ninth grade?"
My dad said,
"Oh right. You've always had a crush on Ally Dawson, the singer and supermodel."
I said,
"She was my patient today."
My mom smiled.
"Did you ask if she was single?"
I said,
"Mom! That's not a very professional thing to ask a patient! Especially one you've only just met."
My mom laughed.
"I know, sweetie, I'm just shittin' you! What was wrong with her?"
I said,
"She had tonsillitis. I was glad she came in when she did, because her fever was almost one hundred and four degrees fahrenheit, she also said she had abdominal pain, she said she had bloody vomiting and she had a cough with that barking noise and she had excess saliva and phlegm."
My mom told me,
"Poor girl."
I said,
"Yeah, mom, I know. Tonsillitis can be fatal if left untreated."
My dad told me,
"Any kind of cough is fatal if left untreated. I think there was a time when you were about six months old and you got croup."
My mom looked at him.
"I remember that. Stridor and a fever of one hundred and two. You had to go to the emergency room and I was frickin' hysterical. I had to call Nana to come over and we just stuck you in a steamy bathroom for two hours."
I laughed.
"I got croop as a baby, and now I can treat croop."
My dad looked at me.
"Yes, you can. You always loved science and helping people and you always earned high grades in math and science, you were always fascinated by diseases and illnesses, and you loved every second of volunteering at Mount Sinai Medical Center."
"Not to mention I graduated high school in my sophomore year with a 5.0 grade point average and got a scholarship to University of Miami. Being a doctor had always been my dream."
My mom said,
"Well, son, we're very proud of you. We always have been."