Don't Whistle Past the Graveyard

Ch. Two

Two Years Earlier ...

I sighed as I clocked in, grabbing my schedule from the receptionist. Usually I love my job but today, 7:00 am just felt way too early. I went to my desk in a corner of the wide, spacious, mirror-lined room filled with padded tables and flopped into my chair, flipping through the profiles of the patients I would be seeing.

I paused and smiled when I realized that Shane was on the roster for today. Shane was one of my favorite patients. He had a great attitude and this burning desire to get better.

I loved working with military patients. Most of the time they pushed themselves to meet the goals. I mean, they were military. These were people who knew how to reach their goals and beat the challenges put in front of them.

Every now and then I'd get someone who was suffering from more than the physical and that was always hard. Seriously I tip my cap to the psychologists and psychiatrists who help these guys and to the guys who go through it. They are all much braver than I am.

But that was why I had decided to work with military patients. First of all, they deserve our respect and the best doctors for their sacrifices.

Yeah, I know that last bit sounded arrogant but I'd also graduated top of my class from the best PT school in the U.S.

Second of all, they are naturally dedicated people. That's why they chose to serve. I had spent some time in a civilian clinic and I couldn't tell you how many patients I saw who made zero progress from week to week.

This drove me absolutely nuts. Why should I put in the effort if my patients won't? I learned really quickly that I needed a specialized population of patients.

My family had had a strong military history so it just seemed like a perfect fit.

And it had been for the past year and a half.

But getting back to Shane. He'd been one of my first patients and had come back from the Middle East with massive muscle and some nerve damage from an IED courtesy of some terrorist group, I've lost track of which one.

We'd made some truly spectacular progress and I knew that pretty soon I'd be able to give him a clean bill of health.

Frowning I thought that was a good thing for more than the obvious reasons. I was developing a horrendous crush on him which was a huge no-no since I was his doctor. I was happy about his progress but I was still bummed at the prospect of not seeing him.

But before I saw him and fed my ridiculously inappropriate crush I had eight other patients who deserved all of my attention when they came in.

Looking at the clock, I realized I had twenty minutes before my first patient and decided that a cup of coffee would be essential for survival for today.

I walked downstairs to the hospital cafeteria which had a vendor called WD Coffee. I wasn't entirely sure why they were in a military hospital, but they also made decent coffee so I wasn't going to complain or question the infinite wisdom of the universe on this one.

The barista, Ashley, smiled when she saw me and started making my usual caramel latte. I sat at one of the bar stools they had and waited for my coffee, chatting with her about her school work and stuff like that.

We paused when a breaking news story flashed up on a nearby plasma.

"Oh not again," Ashley muttered.

"What's going on?" I asked, feeling clueless. Usually I kept up with the news but had been slammed with so much work lately I hadn't been able to.

Ashley frowned, handing me my coffee. "That's like the fourth attack this week."

"Attack?" I asked, before sipping my coffee like an idiot and scorching my tongue. I hated that. When you burned your mouth with coffee the sensation lasts the whole day.

Ashley nodded, obviously ignorant of my burnt tongue distress. "Yeah. It's been totally crazy. People are just like, flipping out in public and trying to hurt people. I heard that this one guy in Baltimore actually bit someone! Isn't that gross?"

I felt my eyebrows pull together before taking another, much more cautious sip of my coffee. "What do they think is causing it? A new street drug? Like a bad batch of meth or something?"

"They don't know. Nobody has any idea, but it seems like the attacks are happening more and more often." Ashley chewed on her lip and I looked at my watch.

Jumping up I realized I now had exactly nine minutes to get back upstairs and get ready for my first patient.

I thanked Ashley for the coffee then jogged upstairs, managed not to spill my coffee and got everything set up just as the clinic opened.

I didn't think about that conversation with Ashley again.

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I just wanted to take a time out to say hi to anyone who might read this.

Also to say that in this chapter I touched a little on people struggling with PTSD. These people are heros and do deserve nothing but the best. They fight through something that no one can truly understand and I have all of the respect and gratitude in the world for the brave soldiers who are willing to step up and fight the evil in the world, keeping us safe so we can live free.

A huge thank you to all military service people. Not just of the United States military but all of them.