Fallen Angel
Chapter 5
"Good morning, Mr. Mathers," Doctor Lancaster bellowed as he joined the blonde in the waiting room. "It's nice to see you again."
"Yeah, morning."
The doctor merely chuckled at the curt, gruff greeting. "I take it you'd like to know her current prognosis?"
"If it wouldn't be an inconvenience," he replied bitingly. "I've been waiting since ten am. It's almost noon."
"Please, Mr. Mathers, try to understand that this is a hospital, and patients come first," the doctor explained smoothly. "Your Jane Doe is doing remarkably well for someone of her…position. For the past two hours, I have been supervising the several intensive operations she's scheduled to undergo today."
Marshall winced. "Sorry, doc… I didn't-"
"Don't apologize. We still don't know whether she will survive through this-it is quite a miracle in itself that she's even managed to survive up until this point. Around five am, her heartbeat dropped suddenly-"
"Nobody notified me?" he growled.
"Like I said, it was five am when her heartbeat dropped. However, we were able to get it to return to a better pulsation after several minutes. We thought it unnecessary to notify you as the situation had been taken care of. The point, Mr. Mathers, that I'm trying to make, is that she is nowhere near good health, and she may not make it."
"Let's cut the shit. Do you think she's gonna make it or not? Your personal opinion. Not your damned professional one."
"I think whether she makes it or not depends on you."
"Excuse me?" Marshall reeled.
"She seems to be getting stronger, and that certainly makes me believe that something within her knows that she's dying and doesn't want that to happen. So, to answer your question more efficiently and succinctly: yes, I think she's going to make it."
"What about what you said before?"
"Never mind that. We need to discuss some things that are essential in order for Jane to really begin her recovery."
"Like?"
"Why don't you follow me into my office?" the doctor prompted and turned towards the room.
"There are several forms and papers that you need to fill out as well as sign. Basically, Mr. Mathers, we're looking for commitment; both financial and physical.""I can give you financial, but I'm not sure about anything else."
"Financial is enough…for now, but as she gains her strength, we will need to revisit the issue of her care outside of the hospital. However, I need to know whether or not you plan to be part of the recovery process?"
"Here's the deal, doc: I'm a musician, and I don't know if my career, family, or I could really handle this situation. All I can promise is that I will be around until she wakes up. I plan on making my final decision then."
The doctor looked at him thoughtfully. "Mr. Mathers, if you aren't willing to do this. Don't stay until she wakes up. By doing so, you're putting yourself in a worse position than you're in now-I assure you that you're highly likely to be a lot more emotionally attached to her when she wakes up. It may be weeks before she does, and in those weeks, you're going to end up bonding and sympathizing with her. I'd much rather her have no one by her side from the start than someone temporary. It's not good for the healing process."
"I just can't make a decision now! Don't you understand what I'd be giving up?"
"Sounds to me like you've already made your decision. Mr. Mathers, it is generous of you to offer her financial support for her medical treatments and surgeries. Nobody would accuse you of being selfish should you only lend her that."
"I haven't, damn it! I just…"
"You have a few days to come to a final decision. I'll give you a week, Mr. Mathers, to decide how deep you're willing to go into this situation. Now, about the financial paperwork…"
"Dre, where you at?" Marshall whispered into his cell phone receiver."At the studio."
"Busy?"
"What's up?"
"Well…nothing."
"What do you want, Marsh? We both know there's somethin' you need, so just save us both some time…"
"All right, all right! I need to talk to you."
"Aiight, I'm listening."
"Nah, not over the fuckin' phone. That shit's just stupid. I'll be at the studio in a few."
"Sometimes you're so anal," Dre muttered and hung up the phone.
"So, what's all the fuss about?" Dre asked as he leaned back in the chair across from Marshall."I need you to book me a ticket home. Today."
"Today?" he choked. "I thought you were gonna stay for that bitch."
Marshall struggled not to correct him. "I'm gonna stay away from her, now."
"Oh, oh. Why are you changin' your tune, hmm?"
"The doctor needs me to decide within a week."
"You can't wait 'til she wakes up?"
"No, he said I'd just be diggin' my grave deeper."
"I told you that, I thought."
"Yeah, well, you don't have PhD."
"Punk ass…"
"Fuck you. I'ma go back home. Stay out of it. Like you told me."
"Good boy."
"I'm still payin' for her shit, though."
"That I didn't doubt. You just can't be there for her-like you. Your money, that's cool. Just you, I worry about that."
"Well, worry no more. I'm on the next flight to Detroit."
Author: zines@aol.com
These stories are for entertainment purposes only. They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character. No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.