Patient Number One: Lucia Espinosa.

Time since heart transplant surgery: 5 days. No arrythmias and no chest pains, and Lucia is keeping up with her medication.

Today is the day of the block party her family is throwing, and Lucia is currently standing in front of a mirror, holding up a few different tops to try. She’s already tried four different tops already, but she seems to find a fault with each one.

Lucia sighs deeply, throwing the current choices onto her bed, onto the steadily growing pile of clothes. Her youngest sister, Bella, comes into the room. “Luc, come on, it’s gonna start soon! How can you not be dressed yet?!”

“Nothing seems right. Do I dress for the weather and go with the red top, but show off an ugly scar in the process? Do I go more discreet, with the blue top, but suffer and overheat? Do I go sequins, floral, plain? Do I just not go at all?! I’m supposed to be resting and not getting worked up over every small little thing!” Lucia’s ranting speeds up, and she starts hyperventilating.

Her little sister comes further into the room, closing the door behind her, and takes Lucia by the shoulders. “Hey, Luc, calm down. Breathe, slowly in and out, like Dr. Truman said right? Just follow me.” Bella talks Lucia through some breathing exercises, and Lucia slowly calms down. “What’s this really about, Luc?” Bella gently asks her sister.

“Nothing.” Lucia lies.

Bella looks disbelievingly at Lucia. “Try again.”

Lucia smiles ruefully. “Mama kept asking about inviting my school friends…” She trailed off.

Bella nodded, understanding. “And you still haven’t opened up to her about your social anxiety.”

“How can I, Bella? She’s so open and friendly, and just doesn’t understand how anyone could find it difficult to speak to strangers. Everyone at school just saw me as the quiet, mousy kid in the corner. They didn’t even realise I was there. And she expects me to just invite them to something out of the blue, when they weren’t even aware of my existence, let alone my heart condition? But I can’t tell her that. You know how she gets.”

Bella sighs, and is silent for a moment, before saying, “Go with the green one. It’s not too showy and is thin enough for you not to overheat. Plus, you look good in green.”

Lucia smiles gratefully, before grabbing the top to get dressed. I think I’ll check in on Lucia later, see how the party goes.

Patient Number Two: Mike Greene.

Time since liver transplant surgery: 5 days. Amazingly, he hasn’t drunk any alcohol in those five days! He has been smoking almost constantly and been double dosing on painkillers, but hey, baby steps.

He only left his motel room once since being discharged, and it was to go grocery shopping. I say groceries. It was mostly buying ready meals to shove in the fridge and freezer, but at least he didn’t buy any alcohol.

Mike is currently slouched over on the couch, watching TV. Seriously, I don’t know why I keep checking in on this guy. He never does anything, and honestly, it’s only a matter of time before he gives in a ruins my liver!

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door. Mike grunts but does slowly drag himself off the couch and over to the door to open it. A man stands at the door.

“Ah, you’re back, good. Listen, I’ve got some contractors coming in at the end of the week, renovating the block across from you. If you think they’re gonna disturb you, I can get you some numbers of nearby places to stay temporarily, but they’ll be working normal hours, no late nights or too early mornings. Besides, they’ll only be here about a month.” This guy must be the owner of the motel.

“Yeah, that’s fine, I don’t care either way. My hearing’s bad enough that they shouldn’t bother me too much.” Mike told the man at the door. His voice was scratchy and hoarse from not using it for the past few days.

“Good, good. Where’ve you been anyway? You rarely leave and yet you were gone for a whole week.”

“Oh, I had a hospital thing. Minor surgery, nothing too serious.” Wow. I know I died before starting med school, but my medical knowledge must be seriously lacking. To think that a liver transplant was only in fact minor surgery!

The man at the door just nodded, before turning away to leave. Mike started to close the door, before the man turned back and said “Oh, before I forget, someone came by for you while you were away. Said his name was… Peters, something.”

Mike froze. “Peters? You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Army guy, uniform and badges and everything. I promised I’d call him when you came back.”

Mike was silent, in thought for a few moments, before remembering himself and saying, “Yeah, yeah, call him back.”

The man walked away. Mike closed the door.

Mike shuffled back to his couch in a daze. Under his breath I heard him mutter, “Why the Hell did he come looking for me now?”

Huh, seems like I’ll have to check on Mike more often after all.

Patient Number Three: Richard Wilkes.

Time since kidney transplant surgery: 5 days. Unfortunately, his body hasn’t yet rejected my kidney and the guy is as creepy as ever.

I’ve been avoiding checking in on this creep mostly because I’ve been scared of what I’ll see, but at the same time there is this sick curiosity about what he’s up to. And maybe a hope that if I’m keeping an eye on him, he won’t do anything too bad.

Not that I can do anything as a ghost, but still.

He’s currently at a coffee shop, sitting outside with a to-go cup, watching the passing traffic. It’s a busy day and the street is fairly packed, people rushing in and out of shops laden with bags. Something catches Richard Wilkes eye and he leans forward, resting his chin on his hand and staring intently.

Wait. I know that woman. That’s nurse Anna from the hospital. Has this creep been stalking her?!

Richard Wilkes stands up and starts following Anna along the street.

All I can do is watch.

I don’t want to watch anymore. I’m too scared of what I’ll see.

Patient Number Four: Joanna Yang.

Time since bone marrow transplant: 5 days. Physically, Joanna is healthy and recovering well. Mentally, she’s bored out of her mind.

In the past five days since she’s been out of hospital, she has cleaned her entire house top to bottom, cooked and baked extravagant dishes that could easily be served in a Michelin restaurant, cleaned out her storage cupboard, re-potted all of her many (and I mean many house plants), and is currently picking out paints to redecorate her bedroom. If it were me, I’d go with the ‘Atmospheric Cloud’ creamy colour, but Joanna seems to be leaning towards ‘Plain Soul’ which has a slightly more lilac-y tone, but each to their own.

Throughout all of her hard work, Joanna has constantly been listening to her police radio, the only thing that Sergeant Mills could use to stop her coming back to work too soon. Every now and then she calls Sergeant Mills about something she heard over dispatch, either checking how it ended or to provide additional information that could be of some help to those working the cases. Joanna really does hate being forced to sit back with nothing to do.

A new call comes over the radio. An Amber Alert. Joanna drops the paint swatches and picks up the radio, listening intently. “All Units be advised, suspect is driving a red pick-up truck, plate number 4, 6, 2, Delta, Foxtrot, Echo. Last seen heading East on Kennedy Avenue. Be advised, suspect was last seen with a young boy, brown hair, brown eyes, blue baseball hat.”

Joanna looks out of her window. “That’s near here,” she mutters under her breath. Oh no. Surely, she can’t be that stupid. She was only recently discharged from hospital!

She’s grabbing her badge, gun, and the radio. She really is that stupid. “Off duty officer Yang, badge number RK930, responding.” And she’s out the door.

I mean, yes, she’s an idiot for getting involved but at the same time I finally get to see some action!

Joanna jumps in her car and starts driving, looking around the quiet streets for the red truck. After about 10 minutes of driving around, the radio speaks up. “All units be advised, red pick-up truck, 4, 6, 2, Delta, Foxtrot, Echo, spotted heading South on Park Terrace. Show Detective Platt, badge number LL478, pursuing. Requesting back-up and roadblocks.”

“Here we go.” Joanna mutters to herself, swerving to turn down a side street. I almost felt my non-existent stomach churn with how tightly she made that turn! Joanna continues driving quickly, and soon, there’s the truck speeding down the road towards Joanna’s car.

She slams on the brakes, swerving so her car is horizontal on the road. Sirens blare behind the truck as it gets closer and closer.

Joanna opens the door and steps out, holding up her gun, pointing it at the truck. I can’t tell if it’s slowing down or not.

The truck gets closer until the driver is visible. A man with a beard and a desperate yet angry look in his eyes. He gazes switches constantly between Joanna in front, the cops behind, and something in the footwell of the passenger seat, probably the child he kidnapped.

More sirens appear from behind Joanna as cops block off his exit alongside her. The truck gets closer, but still doesn’t appear to slow down.

1000 feet.

800 feet.

500 feet.

200 feet.

100 feet.

Brakes screech.

The truck comes to a stop just in front of Joanna.

The rest is a blur of blue as cops run forward, shouting instructions to the driver who slowly lifts his hands out of the window, and another cop opens the passenger door and helps out a young boy who can’t be older than ten.

Joanna smiles, but soon grimaces as a voice rings out over the cacophony of the arrest.

“Joanna Yang! What the Hell do you think you’re doing!”

Oof. As much as I love drama, I don’t really enjoy watching people get chewed out. I’ll check back in with Joanna later.

Patient Number Five: Lena Bleu.

Time since lung transplant: 5 days. Lena hasn’t been experiencing any chest pains, and she hasn’t been struggling to breathe. She’s recovering well, however, she is still exhausted and lacking energy, spending most of her time reading or drawing.

She brings her new teddy everywhere with her and has named it Indigo after its bowtie. Her parents have been constantly in and out of their small apartment, leaving early and getting back late. Sometimes one of them manages to come back for a quick lunch with Lena, but most of the time she’s left alone.

Well, not entirely alone. There’s an elderly couple who live across the hall who regularly come by to check on Lena, as well as bringing over cooked meals for her and her parents. They’re a sweet couple who treat Lena like their granddaughter, and it’s clear that Lena sees them as surrogate grandparents too. But while Lena is being looked after and always has an adult present to help her, she is obviously lonely.

She hosts tea parties for her toys and dolls, talking to each of them, asking them about their day. She writes stories about her toys saving the day, working together to defeat the evil cyborg duck (a metal duck sculpture that holds open the kitchen door). Every now and then, screams of laughter can just be heard through the window above the noise of traffic, and Lena will look longingly out the window at the children playing below.

It honestly breaks my heart to watch this kid.

“I wish I hadn’t been sick, Indigo.” Lena says to her bear now, holding it to her chest, resting her chin on its head. “I was always too sick to join in with the other kids at school. And now, I’m scared that I still won’t be able to join in. I wish I could go down there, though.”

I wish I knew how to help you kid. But all I can do is watch!

Why am I still here. I was meant to help people! But all I can do is watch.

I hate this.