Superheroes are Stupid

07

Strong Man never explained himself. Not that I really expected anything else from a cryptic, mysterious superhero.

True to his word though, he promptly admitted himself into the hospital, and managed to convince the chief to put me in charge of his case. It was unsettling how easygoing the chief was about it. All he did was pat me on the back, leaving me with a short, "The VIP is all yours," before sitting back down on his office chair and continuing with his work.

Of course, things have been kept on the down low—most of the nurses and staff don't know that Strong Man is in the hospital, and those who do know were made to sign an NDA. Strangely enough, I wasn't handed one. It seems Strong Man trusts me enough to not require me to sign anything. Which is stupid. Not that I'm going to reveal anything since he's my patient, but still. It's stupid. Frustrating too, because I can't help but doubt his intentions, and I don't even know where to start with my guesses.

Because his treatment has to take place in secret, I have to accompany him everywhere. X-rays, CT scans—thankfully not the toilet because he has an assigned nurse for that—and also stay in his room to keep an eye on him. There were times I felt more like a nanny than a doctor.

At other times though, it proved surprisingly intriguing to have a superhero for a patient. For starters, his body is pretty impressive. It's not just his size and build; he recovers at a frightening rate. We took an X-ray for him on the day he was admitted, and found that he had several broken ribs, and hairline fractures on his right shin and left forearm. Three days later, they had almost healed, all on their own.

"Amazing. If we didn't have to sign that NDA and disposal policy, I would have asked some of my friends in research to look into this," Dr. Gregory remarks, holding up both copies of the X-rays.

I smile wryly and nod. "Yeah, maybe we'll finally get to understand how superpowers are formed."

"It's too bad," the chief sighs, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. "There'd be leaps and bounds in scientific and medical development if someone ever made that sort of breakthrough. Too bad hero identities have to be kept secret."

"Agreed."

"Anyways, Dr. Jones has kept me updated on your progress with Strong Man. I think you're doing great. She picked the right person for the job."

His affirmation makes my cheeks warm with pride. "Thank you, Dr. Gregory."

"You deserve it," he smiles. He checks his watch then, and stands abruptly. "I need to leave—I'm going to watch my grandson's piano recital tonight. I'll see you around, Dr. Williams."

"See you," I say, excusing myself from his office. I check the time on my own watch once the door is closed behind me, and I see that it's already nearing five in the afternoon. I should check in with Strong Man in two hours. In the meantime, I should get some dinner—I can't for the life of me remember if I ate lunch or not. Which means the answer is probably no.

I start walking towards the cafeteria and check my phone. Still no text messages from Rick. My mood sours considerably, disappointment washing over me. He never replied after I told him that I couldn't make it for the date, so I can only surmise that he's mad at me. Not to mention, he hasn't replied to my apologetic text message yesterday.

Maybe I should give him a call later and properly apologise. Hopefully I haven't completely blown my chances with him.

The cafeteria isn't too crowded when I arrive, and after grabbing a pack of egg mayo sandwiches, I sit myself down at an empty table and pull out my phone. I find Rick's contact number quickly and call him, impatiently tapping my heel on the floor as I listen to the drawn out rings.