Showing Up

“I was up late last night working. Yes, this project is a nightmare, but that wasn’t the whole story. So one of my friends had a dog that died last night, and I went over to her apartment and spent 5 hours with her. I should’ve put up stronger boundaries with this friend—she does this kind of thing all the time. We’ve been friends since college; she doesn’t have family here. I got home after midnight and had to validate all the files until 3 in the morning. Yeah. I know. Then I was up at 7 to touch base with the team again. That's all I’ve been doing today. If I had just told my friend to deal with it herself, I wouldn’t be so tired.”

No. 071

Transfers

“Hello, my name is Spencer Greenwood, date of birth July 12, 1999. My primary care doctor ordered me some replacement parts for my pump, and they were shipped to a V.D.L. Enterprises warehouse, which is you guys. I want to know where it is, and—No, don’t transfer me. I’ve already been transferred four times. Please—Let me explain—I was traveling and damaged the reservoir on my pump, my primary doctor ordered me a replacement one, but did not send it to my home address. He sent it to your medical warehouse. I need to know that it arrived, and I need to make sure that it’s being sent to my correct address.—Yes.—Yes.—Do you have a tracking number?—And this has expected delivery on Wednesday?—Okay, because I cannot receive it after Wednesday.—Do you have a tracking number for me?—EightEightTwoThree….—Maybe let’s switch that to overnight. So it can arrive on Tuesday,  and even if it’s late it will arrive by evening Wednesday latest, when I need to switch it out.—Yes.—Yes.—July 12, 1999. The address is FourSevenEight….—Yes. Thank you. I need to receive the shipment by Wednesday, or I’ll need to go to the hospital. It was a horrible mix-up. I’ve already spoken with my doctor. Yes, he feels horrible, but, really, I feel even worse. Thank you for understanding and helping me out. Do you have a phone number so I can call back if there are any problems tomorrow?”

A Sidebar

“Did I ever tell you about when he died? We were working on the first season. His boss at the time was a real hard ass, a terrible boss. He didn’t give a shit what happened in any of his employees’ lives, just worked them to the bone. This was a few months after he tore his meniscus, you remember that? Still on bed rest. Working 18-odd hours a day. Which was because of us, sure, but if his boss had been managing it better… Anyway, you remember what it was like working here then, you can imagine what the artists were going through. One day, he decided he needed a break from work, so he went out for a hike. He called me on the phone, told me he was taking the afternoon. Of course, I told him, do whatever you need, but are you sure about your legs? They aren’t healed! He insisted he needed to be outside, see the trees, feel the sun. He needed to feel alive again, after so many months on bed rest and the long work days. Anyway, you know what happens next. He gets heat stroke, has a heart attack. Dies on the trail. The paramedics get there just in time and revive him. They get down to Cedars Sinai, and he passes again. Then he’s revived again. He calls me, asks me to come down to the hospital. What am I going to do, say no? I was one of his only friends. I go to Cedars Sinai. When I get there, he’s back in a coma. The nurses tell me it’s not looking good, there’s a big clot they don’t think they can get rid of. Blood pressure was 94 over 60. Skin was gray. He wasn’t going to make it. I get there, I tell him what a good job he’s doing, that the show looks great. Then right after me, his ex-girl walks in. Suddenly the charts start spiking, his heart rate goes up. It’s like he knew she was in there. He was waiting for her. He opens his eyes, wakes up from the coma, says hello to her, and then dies, again, for the third time, except this one was for real. I was there when he died. I held his ex-girl, and she told me he’d been stressed out, the job was killing him, turning his hair gray, ruining his blood pressure. I’ll say! It was the stress of the job and that horrible boss that killed him. I know stress; I’ve seen what it can do. And he was a great artist. It’s a shame he couldn’t work on season two.”