Too Much

Author’s Notes:

- So I worked in a hospital so a lot of these things I’ve actually saw but I live in Canada so I don’t know if hospital procedures and stuff like that are different in the States.
- There is also free healthcare here so I just assumed that in the States the hospital sends you a bill for your expenses if you do not have health insurance, which Joey obviously doesn’t have.

Chapter 5 – Giving In


Joey sat on his bedroom floor; phone in one hand, the card Roland had handed him in the other. He’d been sitting like this for the past half-hour, trying to figure out his options. That was the problem, he had none. He couldn’t possibly afford going to the hospital on his own and he couldn’t risk the school counselor going through with her threats and causing trouble for him and his father either. He was also suffering from on and off nosebleeds and was finding it considerably difficult to breath through his nose, knowing that that couldn’t be good, not to mention that his whole face throbbed with pain. So why was Joey having so much trouble dialing that number if it was his only answer. Joey saw it as a form of personal defeat. Joey wasn’t used to getting help seeing as he knew he rarely would receive it from his family and felt too guilty to accept handouts from Yugi. His dad always told him to never rely on anyone but yourself and only weak people needed help. His father was a perfect example of his theory…not. He completely relied on Joey to take care of everything but his father said these opinionated words before his life spun out of control. Joey was used to looking out for himself and he found it very difficult to ask for help. Especially when this help essentially came from the person he loathed the most.

Joey stared absent-mindedly around his bedroom, procrastinating about what he knew he had to do. He looked at the ground where he occupied the previous night when he passed out. Joey let a small chuckle escape his lips. He had been such an idiot to think everything was alright. He knew the drugs were the cause of his optimism, and he was abusing more lately than ever. Earlier that day he had cleaned up the mess he made on the floor with some paper towels, figuring he’d have to deal with it sooner or later, and sooner is always better when it comes to vomit.

Joey heaved a great sigh and looked at the phone. He dialed the number, slowly, then placed the phone to his head, hoping Kaiba wasn’t around when this Roland guy picked up the phone. Roland’s professional tone was heard through the phone. Joey tentatively told him about needing some help with the medical bill, but, to Joey’s relief, he need not say much more for Roland took care of it and had the arrangements made, almost as if he was expecting Joey to call. All Joey had to do was send his medical bills to Kaiba Corp and they would be taken care of.

Joey gave a sigh of relief as if a huge burden was lifted from his shoulders. It hurt his pride to do this, but he knew he couldn’t help it.

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Joey sat in a chair with blue padding and metal arms identical to the others that surrounded him. The walls were a pale blue and a small, outdated television hung from the corner where the 6 o’clock news was on. Joey was only half listening to the story that was being reported. Something about a recent bust of some teens. A commercial then played showing a new flashy gadget and the huge logo “Kaiba Corp” broadcasted all over the place. “Bastard,” Joey muttered, as he sat there, brooding as he watched the billionaires evident success while Joey sat in a hospital waiting room, waiting to be seen for the injury Kaiba himself gave him.

As Joey tore his eyes away from the television he saw an assortment of other injured people. Joey laughed internally; he actually fit in when he was with these people. Joey’s beaten face that caused bystanders to stare and drew a lot of attention wherever he went blended in perfectly well in the hospital. It was like they were all connected through the bond of having to wait for hours just to see a doctor to get a quick treatment. When he was surrounded by these people, he felt more at peace, knowing that they were all in the same boat. They also wouldn’t judge him or assume anything like everyone at school did because they were all in the same position. The shy patients occasionally asked each other how their injuries occurred and listened to their stories or just sat and shared friendly smiles, knowing that nothing needed to be said. One by one they slowly disappeared through the large white door as different injuries filtered through the front door to the hospital. Right from the guy who had his arm in a quickly homemade sling to the woman who sported a very nervous, and tired expression, bags evident under her eyes and hair hap-hazard, who held her sick son in her arms.

Joey was beginning to feel glad he came. He felt some sort of acceptance he would never receive from the delusions his pills gave him. It’s pretty bad when a bunch of depressed, sick people make you feel better, Joey thought. “I’m pretty sadistic,” Joey muttered to himself, as a nurse came into the waiting room and beckoned another patient through the door, who was not sporting any visible injuries. Those are the worst, Joey thought, there could be anything wrong with them from mental disorders to cancer but you just don’t know. Those are the ones you should really pity. A lot of them won’t ever get better…

Just then the large white door opened again and the aged but warm-faced woman came through the door. “Joseph Wheeler,” She called while looking down at the clipboard she carried. Joey walked towards the nurse, nervous but not completely sure why. “You’ll be in Exam Room # 3,” she said as she gestured with the arm holding the clipboard towards a small examination room. “A nurse will be with you momentarily,” she continued kindly, no disregard or cruelty in her eyes, just understanding.

Joey sat on the small bed covered with a white sheet while looking around at the medical equipment. His eyes strayed to a round brown stain on the beige, speckled floor, which he knew to be blood, causing a chill course through his spine. Joey had no problem with blood, seeing as he had bled enough in his time to be used to it but the thought of the lasting remnants that would be stained on the hospital floor where no amount of bleach would ever remove it, disturbed him. A much younger nurse entered the room and sat on a stool.

“Okay, so let’s get some information on you,” she said in a professional but happy voice as she shut the door to the examination room.

“So, what happened?”

“Well, I fell … and I hit my face …” Joey finished lamely, suddenly feeling embarrassed about what actually happened. The nurse just peered up at Joey from her clipboard and gave a crooked smile. “It’s okay to tell the truth, no one’s going to judge you here. Being a nurse, I’ve heard it all.”

Joey gave a great sigh. “I was in a fight and got punched in the face,”

“Okay,” the nurse said, a small smile on her lips as she wrote down the information on her form, constantly sweeping stray hairs out of her face that kept falling from looking down at the clipboard.

“And how long ago did this happen?”

Joey thought for a moment of the events that occurred from the fight until now before responding. “A little over a day ago.”

“Has it bled at all when it occurred or since it happened?”

“It bled a lot when it happened and has been bleeding on and off ever since.”

“Alright,” she finished as she wrote down a few more notes onto her clipboard and turned to the door. “A doctor will be with you momentarily,” she said warmly with a kind look on her delicate features as she left the room.

Joey sat and waited, still feeling uneasy about the whole situation. Joey was very much out of his element, seeing as hospital visits were very rare in his life. His out of character shyness made him unusually quiet. Just then an older man walked through the door. He had a weathered but pleasant face with thick white hair and a white moustache.

“Hello Joseph, I’m Doctor Bailey,” he said ceremoniously as he pulled up the stool with wheels. “Lets take a look at this nose of yours.” Joey sat very still as the doctor gently put his hands on Joey’s nose and began to feel the bridge and gently applying pressure, feeling for the irregular shape and seeing if the bones moved. Joey just sat with his eyes shut tight seeing as the doctor was putting him under intense pain. He tried his best not to let it show, seeing as Joey didn’t want to look like a wimp. The doctor, noticing Joey’s pained expression, stopped his investigation.

“Have you been having any trouble breathing through your nose?” the doctor then asked. Joey responded with a quick yes and the doctor continued. “Alright, well your nose is broken but I will be able to set and treat it.”

“Alright,” Joey said emotionlessly.

“How would you feel about coming back in a few days? The swelling has not completely gone down and it is much easier to set the bone when it is gone.”

“I can’t do ‘dat” Joey said in the same emotionless tone, “It’s gotta be today.” He said with finality in his voice. He thought about the counselor and did not want to pose any risk of her calling home. He also thought of how long it took him to walk to the hospital from the school and did not want to make that trip again.

“Okay then. I’d rather have you treated now than not at all. I’ll need to give you some local anesthetics so you won’t be in pain when I set your nose. This will cause your face to go numb. I have also ordered for an injection of pain medication.” He said as he left the room.

Joey’s spirits picked up a little. At least he’ll be feeling good real soon. A nurse came in a few minutes later carrying a needle. “Okay so the doctor ordered you a shot of Demerol so if you could stand up and pull down your pants…” Joey complied. He undid his belt, unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down his pants and boxers enough to expose some of his fleshy behind. The nurse, ignoring the marks that were still present, though less severe than they had been before, ripped open a small package containing a sterilizing wipe and began vigorously rubbing at Joey’s skin, the vapors of rubbing alcohol reaching Joey’s nose. She picked up her needle and said “One, two, three and poke” as she stabbed the needle and squeezed its contents into Joey’s body that was craving the fix. The needle hurt, but it was almost a good hurt, or maybe it was just the anticipation Joey was feeling for the drugs that made him almost enjoy it.

The doctor returned roughly 20 minutes later followed by a nurse who pushed a cart behind him, covered in medical equipment. The injection they gave him before was now just starting to kick in and Joey just felt a great ease wash over his body. His eyes grew heavier and his whole body relaxed.

“Okay, just try to relax” the doctor soothed as he picked up the needle that the nurse had just prepared filled with the anesthetic. “Small poke” he said as he inserted it into the center part of his nose. He repeated this procedure on either side of his nose and then left the room, seeing as the numbing effects take a few minutes to kick in. Joey sat, feeling the strange sensation of losing the feeling in his face. It didn’t feel that much different than having too many pills, except this numbness was a lot stronger, which made Joey glad. He wasn’t fond of the idea of “setting” the bone. Joey liked his personal space and wasn’t used to letting people invade it willingly.

The doctor re-entered. “Alright,” the doctor said, attempting to sound cheery, “Let’s do this thing.” He pushed on Joey’s nose in the opposite way it was broken and started moving the bone back into place. Joey didn’t feel pain necessarily but a strong pressure against his face and he could feel his nose surrendering under the doctor’s touch which made him feel a little uneasy, despite how tough he always tried to act. After the doctor was satisfied with the position of the bone, he packed Joey’s nose with nasal packing to control the steady trickle of blood that was now running out of his nose from the setting and also applied an external splint.

“I’m writing you a prescription for some painkillers and some antibiotics for the nasal packing,” the doctor mumbled while writing down the order onto the forms he had in front of him. He handed them to Joey and turned to leave right as Joey remembered about the note.

“Oh, can you write me a note saying you treated my nose?” Joey asked, unusually shy.

“Uh, yea.” The doctor responded slowly, surprised by the request. After Joey received the note he pocketed it and thanked the doctor. A nurse interrogated him about how he was getting home, seeing as if Joey drove he couldn’t drive home on the meds he was on. Joey told her that he was planning on walking home and after much arguing from the nurse who seemed to think that he was in no shape to walk home, Joey was released from the hospital. Joey had no doubt he would make it home alright seeing as he had done much more strenuous activities while injured and loopy after taking too many meds before in his life.

As Joey was about to make his leave, the nurse reminded him to pick up the prescriptions the doctor gave him at their pharmacy. Joey was never planning on actually getting the meds the doctor gave him, seeing as he could never afford medication from a pharmacy before and only got meds from the streets for helping out the gang. And even then they weren’t guaranteed to be pure. But then Joey remembered that his medical bills were to be paid by Kaiba Corp and surely the medications were essential. Joey’s face contorted into a smile, the first one he had worn all day. “Thank you,” he told the nurse as he walked in the direction of the on-site pharmacy, a new spring in his step, “And thank you, Kaiba” he added under his breath.