Daily Drama (In American TV Shows)

Chapter 3



The night at the hospital was very calm, with the anti-inflammatory and pain-relieving medications they administered, the pain disappeared quickly during the night, allowing me to have a pleasant sleep.

The next day, my mom and I were in the hospital room meeting with the doctor. He was conducting the final examination to authorize my discharge.

"Everything seems to be fine, Mr. Duncan. Does it hurt if I touch this area?" said the doctor as he gently touched the general area of the bruise with two fingers. "A little, but I can bear it, doctor," I replied.

"Perfect, well, that would be all. Some recommendations would be to take the prescribed painkillers if the pain returns, and if anything more serious than the pain occurs, come immediately. That would include dizziness, vomiting, or vision problems. For now, that's all with you, PJ. Now, if you don't mind, please leave the room for a moment. I have some matters to discuss with your mother. It won't take long."

Thanking the doctor, I left the room and headed towards the waiting area. As I reached a corner, a little kid stumbled into me, "Oof," I heard after feeling the impact. There on the floor was a little boy, no more than 5 years old, holding his head as he had collided with my hip.

"Sorry, little buddy, I didn't see where I was going," I said as I helped him up.

"It's okay, I'm not hurt. I'm very strong," the boy said while smiling and flexing his imaginary biceps.

Laughing at the child's cuteness, I let him continue on his way. But something caught my attention about his gait. Something wasn't right, I thought. His walk was very unstable, and he kept tripping over nothing but his own feet.

"Wait, kid!" I stopped him quickly but gently. "What's your name?" Surprised, the boy turned and looked me in the eyes as he replied, "I'm Oliver, nice to meet you," extending his hand to introduce himself. However, I noticed that besides being a well-mannered boy, his hand was misdirected towards me, as if he had aimed wrong. That wasn't a good sign.

"Hello, Oliver, nice to meet you too I'm PJ. Can I ask why you came here today?"

"Sure, while playing Superman, I fell off my bed and hit my head. My mom got very scared, but the doctor said I'm fine, so there's no problem. You know, I'm very brave. I hardly cried when I fell because I barely felt it. Like I said, I'm really strong," Oliver said, smiling.

"Wow, impressive, Oliver. Hey, I noticed that your eyes are special, like Superman's. Do you mind if I take a closer look at them?" I crouched down to his level and asked.

"Sure," the boy said as he comically opened his eyes wider, trying to help me see better.

They were beautiful, big green eyes, but that's not why I asked to see them. As I suspected, one of his pupils was dilated while the other was not. This is a problem, and it had to be here, of all places. Mom is going to work here. Why does there have to be a negligent doctor?

"As I thought, Oliver, you have eyes like Superman. Hey, would you mind taking me to where your mom is? I'd like to apologize to her too for accidentally bumping into you. I don't want to be a bad person you know. Would you help me with that, Superman?" I said as I got back on my feet.

Perplexed, the boy seemed to think for a moment until he made up his mind and nodded, saying, "Sure, PJ, come with me. Mom was with the doctor. I had to go to the bathroom, but since I'm a big boy now, I can go by myself." The boy chatted with a cheerful expression as we walked towards the doctor's offices. Once again, I noticed his unsteady walk; it seemed like he couldn't measure his steps properly, constantly stumbling and having to correct the direction he was walking as he got closer to the wall on one side.

Upon reaching one of the last offices, the door was open, and inside, there was a woman, presumably Oliver's mom, and a doctor. Oliver ran as soon as he saw his mother and jumped into her arms, narrowly avoiding the door frame and the chair legs where the woman was sitting. The doctor looked completely exhausted, with dark bags under his eyes, drooping eyelids, messy hair, and holding his head in pain. It wasn't hard to see why is that he had ignored clear symptoms of an Epidural Hematoma.

When the two adults noticed me standing at the door, they looked intrigued by my presence.

"Hello there, you must be Oliver's mom. We bumped into each other accidentally in the hallway, and I came to apologize and accompany him to you, although he's already a big boy," I quickly explained.

"Yes, I'm a big boy. I didn't need PJ to accompany me, but he didn't want to be a bad person, so as Superman, it's my duty to help people," the boy hurriedly added, trying to contribute to the adult conversation.

"Ah, thank you very much, PJ, and you too, Superman. This boy has so much energy, he disappeared suddenly. I'm glad a responsible young man like you found him," the grateful woman said.

"Excuse me, Doctor, I have a question about Oliver," I said, forcing a smile towards the doctor. "Is it normal for him to walk with a loss of balance?" I asked, trying hard to conceal my anger.

"Of course, it's normal. Little Oliver is still growing, so it may seem like he loses balance when he's actually just walking. Besides, as his mom mentioned, he's a very energetic boy, so he's probably just playing around."

"I see. It just seemed strange to me that Oliver walks unsteadily and keeps tripping over his own feet. Well, you're the doctor, and I'm not. It just struck me as odd. It was nice meeting you, Superman, ma'am," I said, bidding farewell, taking a few steps outside, pretending to remember something suddenly, and then returned, "By the way, ma'am, how interesting that Oliver has eyes of different sizes," I said, speaking to the woman while keeping my eyes fixed on the treating doctor.

Straightening up in his chair and for the first time since I entered the room, widening his eyes, the doctor looked at me seriously and said, "What do you mean, one eye bigger than the other?" "Yes, didn't you notice? His right eye seems slightly larger than the left one. What was the word for it?" I continued before the doctor interrupted me with a tone of concern, "Dilated?"

"That's it, 'dilated.' His right eye is more dilated than the left one, just a bit, but you can notice it if you really pay attention," I emphasized the last part.

"Is that normal, Doctor?" the worried mother now asked, hugging her little son.

The doctor, now even more surprised, quickly stood up from his chair to examine the child's eyes. "This can't be, even in the MRI, there was nothing. There were no symptoms, no vomiting, no headaches, just a slight dizziness. The X-rays also came out..." he said while examining Oliver before suddenly falling silent, realizing that one of his eyes was more dilated than the other. He quickly reached for the phone on his desk and called for an operating room, asking the now extremely worried mother to accompany him out of the office. The hesitant mother left her son in one of the chairs inside the room and asked me to watch over him for a moment.

"Are you alright, PJ? You seem a little upset," said Oliver, with whom I now found myself alone in the room. "Yes, I'm better now. Listen, Oliver, you have to be brave like Superman for your mom," I said to the child.

Suddenly, Oliver's mother entered the room looking furious until she saw me, then she relaxed a bit and hugged me, saying, "Thank you so much, PJ. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't noticed earlier." After saying goodbye, she took Oliver with her and said, "We'll see another doctor here at the hospital. They need to check something else in your head, Oli. Let's go."

With a smile, Oliver said goodbye to me and holding his mother's hand, they left the room.

A moment after the family of two left the room, the doctor entered. "Young man, can I have a moment of your time?" he said, sitting down in his chair behind his desk and gesturing for me to take a seat. "How did you know about Oliver and his need for help? I noticed your enthusiasm when talking to me and, if I may say, your anger," he asked seriously.

"Doctor, I also hit my head, so I obviously asked what could have been the worst-case scenario resulting from the impact and what symptoms it would have. I noticed that Oliver had some of those symptoms, but what concerned me the most were his pupils. I deduced that he had an Epidural Hematoma due to the difference in the size of his pupils and the way he was staggering while walking. I found it surprising that no one else noticed," I replied, lying a little about the reasons I knew what was happening to Oliver and once again with a hint of annoyance in my voice.

"I understand you're upset with me, but yesterday was a tough day for me. I have responsibilities that a young person like you couldn't comprehend. I ignored Oliver's symptoms, but I already apologized to his mother, and now I want to thank you."

A tough day, huh? On his desk, there was a large bottle of water, and he looked tired. The partially closed windows suggest he's sensitive to light, and he's sweating despite the air conditioning in the office. If I had to bet, his blood pressure is high, and his tough day is probably related to alcohol, I thought to myself.

"Whatever, see you, doctor," now truly annoyed, I got up from the chair and headed to the door to leave the office.

"You seem to have a very bright future ahead. I recommend you study medicine. With such attention to detail, you'd be a great doctor," the doctor said with a smile, probably thinking I accepted his gratitude.

"Yes, I hope to be a great doctor who won't risk the lives of small children by negligently doing what should be a well-done job," I said and then slammed the door, making a loud noise. I hope my theory is correct, and he really has a hangover. Such a loud and sudden noise must hurt a lot.

When I arrived at the waiting room, Mom was already there, waiting. She seemed shocked, with unfocused eyes staring into space. Worried, I approached her, "Mom, are you alright?" I asked. "Oh, PJ, there you are. Where were you?" she said, completely ignoring my question. "I had to quickly go to the bathroom, but everything's fine now. We can go," I replied.

On the way back home, I tried to figure out the reason why Mom Amy seemed so worried in the waiting room, but nothing worked. During the short time I've known her, I've noticed how much she talks. Now, with her not saying a word throughout the car ride while we were completely alone, and me trying to start a conversation, I was very concerned.

Upon arriving home, I noticed that the moving truck was no longer there. Bob, Teddy, and Gabe must have finished unloading everything. "Your father is not home. I don't see his horrible truck anywhere," Mom suddenly said.

As she parked the car, Mom started crying again. I couldn't understand what was happening or why she had these sudden mood swings. But then, thinking about everything that happened since yesterday, it hit me. Of course! How could I call myself a capable doctor if I didn't notice it immediately? "You're pregnant!" I exclaimed excitedly. Mom was taken aback, and she quickly turned her face towards me, shouting, "How do you know? No, wait, pregnant? At my age? No, erase that too. I'm too young, of course, I could get pregnant again, but pregnant right now? No!" She stumbled through each word, clearly flustered.

With a sly smile, I said, "Calm down, Mom, breathe. Everything will be fine. Of course, you're young, and of course, you're pregnant. What great news! I'm going to be a big brother again," although, truthfully, in my memories, I had never experienced what it's like to be a big brother. This would be the first time, and that's why I was so excited, but I couldn't tell Mom that.

After a few seconds of thinking, Mom started crying again. "Oh, PJ, you can't tell anyone, not your dad, and especially not your siblings. Teddy is already upset about the move, and I don't know if I want her to get even more upset about a new baby. When Gabe was born, she got really angry. Do you remember, uh...?" she said, suddenly remembering that I had "amnesia."

Placing my hand on her shoulder to comfort her, I assured her, "Don't worry, Mom, I won't tell anyone, but at some point, you'll have to."

"Yes, you're right. Thank you, PJ," she said gratefully while hugging me again. We remained silent in the car for a few seconds until Mom seemed to remember something. Pulling away from the hug, she said, "Wait a minute, how do you know that I'm..." She was about to finish her sentence when a knock on the driver's window startled her. "Mom, I'm hungry. Dad didn't give me any food, and Teddy is locked in her new room, not talking to anyone," Gabe yelled from outside the car, pressing against the window.

Startled and perhaps worried that Gabe might have overheard about her pregnancy, Mom shouted a bit annoyed, "Gabe, for God's sake, you scared me. Get back into the house right now!" Seeing that they ignored her request, Gabe walked away from the car, exasperated, muttering, "Of course, ignore the hungry child," as he returned to the house.

With a hand on her chest, trying to calm her breathing, Mom said, "What was I saying?" She thought for a moment and said, "Oh, I remembered..." But I didn't let her finish. "I don't know, Mom, but I have to go unpack my things. I lost a lot of time yesterday," I said, opening the car door and quickly getting out. "Gabe, wait!" I yelled as I trotted inside the house.

I couldn't catch up to Gabe inside the house, and I didn't know where he was. Searching through the rooms, I found the one that I thought would be my room, which I knew I'd be sharing with Gabe. Two beds were in the room, one with heaps of unopened boxes on it, and the other had a few comic books scattered around it.

At the foot of the bed that I claimed as mine were three guitars, two electric and one acoustic. From PJ's clothes and the conversations with Mom last night, I knew PJ had a rock band called "PJ and the Vibe" with his friend Emmet. Music was never my thing, but I would like to find something that I'm passionate about, just like PJ is about his band. I promised myself to live this life better, and that includes having a hobby. Music definitely isn't it, but maybe something else.

While unpacking the boxes, I noticed that PJ really seemed to care little about his personal hygiene. The boxes marked as clean clothes were filled with smelly clothes. There was also a box marked as dirty clothes; I wondered if whatever was inside could be classified as a chemical weapon. All this lack of hygiene reminded me of how I lived in my apartment in California in my previous life. As a result, I felt the need to change it. The first thing I need is a haircut and a new wardrobe, for which I need money. Thinking about how to earn money, I noticed the guitars at the foot of my bed.

If I'm not going to use them, someone else should. Looking at Gabe's bed and remembering how this family seemed to forget him a bit in the time I've known them, I left the guitars on his bed. Maybe he'd want to learn to play music.

After finishing unpacking PJ's things, now mine, I remembered that I not only have Gabe as a brother. So I left my room to see if I could help my now sister feel better in her new home. Surely, the closed door was her room.

Knocking loudly on the door, as there was loud music coming from inside, I shouted, "Teddy, it's PJ. Open up."

"PJ, let me talk to her. After all, I'm a cool mom," Mom suddenly said from behind me, guiding me away from her path. "You go and find Gabe. I saw him leave the house. I hope he's not bothering the neighbors like he did with Mrs. Dabney back in Colorado."

I left the house and headed to the neighbor's house. Conveniently, their garage door was open, so I entered to see if Gabe was there.

Gabe wasn't there, but another boy of his age was playing with what looked like a miniature remote-controlled train.

"Wow, your toy is cool. A mini train," I said, taking a small building from his table to get a better look. "Please don't touch anything!, and who are you?" said the boy with a high-pitched voice.

"Shelly dinners rady!," a woman's voice came from the house, probably this boy's mother.

"I'm PJ 'Shelly,' and we just moved here. I'm looking for my brother. Haven't you seen him around here?" I asked the boy, who had a clear look of annoyance on his face. He came closer and snatched the toy building from my hands, carefully placing it back where I took it from.

"Yes, your brother is a very annoying and rude boy named Gabe. Presumably, he's inside my house, sitting at the table with my family, about to have dinner by invitation from my twin sister, and please don't call me Shelly. My mom, and just my mom, can do that, maybe Memaw too, but she prefers Moonpie" he replied.

"Sheldon, if you don't get in here, I'm gonna lick your toothbrush," a girl's voice shouted from inside the house.

"A pleasure to meet you. Please get out of here and don't touch anything else. Your hands are full of germs," he said before rushing inside the house. "Coming!" he shouted as he entered.

What a strange child, he seems like an adult trapped in a child's body. Oh, the irony.

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Author's thoughts

"I am not a doctor, and I don't fully understand how the American medical system works, correct. The neighbors are indeed the Cooper family from 'Young Sheldon,' which you can watch on Paramount Plus. In case someone doesn't know, the protagonist is the eldest son from the Disney Channel series 'Good Luck Charlie,' which you can watch on Disney Plus. The family will only serve as a background for the protagonist since the series already exists. I will only take the personalities of the characters, but the same events from the series won't happen (otherwise, what's the point of writing fanfiction?). Some things might be similar, but obviously not identical, and others will change completely. If you have any suggestions, I'm all ears (or eyes, actually, as I'll be reading them).

And if you didn't notice yet, the timeline is already altered. The events happening in this story take place one year later than they are supposed to in 'Young Sheldon' (1990), just to be clear.

If you find any errors, I would appreciate it if you let me know.

(If anyone knows where Oliver's idea came from, he wins a prize [obviously there is no prize])


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