Just Be Happy
"Josh, I'm leaving," I hear Donna bellow. I don't make a move to turn around from where
I'm sitting with my feet propped up on the window sill. "Josh," she repeats as I hear her
come into the room. She sits on the desk
behind me. I can see her reflection in
the window. She has her
"worried" face on. She's had
it for about two weeks now. I suppose
she had a reason to worry when I ended up with a nasty cough and cold the day
after I ended up on her doorstep, brooding and not drunk. But I'm basically better now.
"I'm fine," I mutter, answering her unspoken question.
She snorts, "Fine? You're a few
hours from a nutty. Go home, get some
sleep," she orders, softening her tone a little by reaching over and
running her fingers through my hair.
"I'm going...soon," I promise.
I can tell Donna's not quite ready to believe me, but it's been a long
day and she's as tired as I am. "Can you do me favor?" I ask as I let
my feet fall to the floor and I turn my chair around.
"What?"
"Can you see if the First Lady is around?" As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I
regret saying them. Donna kneels next to
me, putting her hands on my knees to turn the chair a little.
"Josh, what's wrong?" she asks as she reaches up to feel my
forehead. I pull away a little too
quickly. I don't know why.
"Nothing," I mutter harshly.
She doesn't believe me, I didn't expect she would.
"You're not warm, you look like you've been getting some sleep, you've
been eating better so what's up?" Donna asks, her voice laced with
worry. I can only shrug my
shoulders. "OK, if you don't want
to talk about it, that's fine. Go home
and get some sleep. If you want to talk,
call me," Donna says with a small smile as pats my knee and stands
up. "I'll call over to the East
Wing and see if Dr. Bartlet is in her office, but I refuse to call the
Residence." The use of the
"DR" title is not lost on me.
Donna goes back out to her desk and I see her laugh as she talks on the
phone. That's not a good sign. She and Dr. Bartlet are probably laughing at
me. "OK, she'll see in 15
minutes. She's a little backed up,
apparently you're not the only one who is about to have a nutty." she
teases.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Ask Dr. Bartlet when you get over there. I'm sure she'd love to explain it to
you," she answers cryptically.
Ten minutes later I'm walking over to the East Wing. I'm not 100% sure why I'm going to see the
First Lady. I think I just want a little
assurance that I'm not about to...to drop dead from a heart attack.
As I turn the corner to head down the hall I see Toby coming out of Mrs.
Bartlet's office. He acts like he
doesn't see me so I just ignore him as he turns and heads in the other
direction. I knock once and the First
Lady's voice drifts out, "Come on in, take a number."
I open the door and see The President sitting in Mrs. Bartlet's chair with
his feet on the desk. "Good evening
Sir, Ma'am."
"Joshua, nice of you to come and visit," Mrs. Bartlet teases as
she motions for me to sit.
"Don't worry son, you're in good company. Toby and Leo have already been here. You'll be glad to hear neither of them are
dying," he snorts.
"Jed," warns Mrs. Bartlet. It's always amazed me the power this 5
foot woman holds over the leader of the free world.
"Ok, so I came over for the same reason," admits the President as
he pulls his feet down and stands up. He throws his suit jacket on over his
head. I stand and glance away as he
kisses his wife. He pats my shoulder on
the way out and gives me a wink.
"So, what brings you over here?" asks Mrs. Bartlet as she motions
for me to sit back down. I slump back
down on the couch and just shrug my shoulders.
I'm a bit amazed at how comfortable I am around the First Lady.
"So, I guess I'll have to drag this out of you. So, Justice Brady drops dead out of the
blue. He's only 10 years older than you
are; he seemed to be in perfect health.
Now you're freaking out a little, facing your own mortality and want a
little assurance you're not about to keel over.
Pretty much sums it up?" she asks with a grin. I can only nod. "Would you feel better if I took your
blood pressure?" she asks, trying to placate me without making me feel
like a complete idiot. "I took
everyone else's too," she adds with a laugh.
"Why not," I agree with a halfhearted grin as I slip off my suit
jacket and roll up my sleeve. She
watches as the numbers on the dial fall.
"Well?" I ask as she tugs on the cuff to release the Velcro.
"It's fine," she says as she motions for me to undo my tie and
unbutton my dress shirt.
"Fine? Fine, fine or good,
fine."
She just shakes her head at me; she's really trying to humor me without
laughing too hard. "How about good for you, fine for the rest of the
world."
"OK"
"Stop talking. Take a few deep
breaths," she says as she slips the end of the stethoscope under my
t-shirt. She listens to me breathe and
then moves the stethoscope to my chest to listen to my heartbeat. "Heart sounds fine, but you're a little
wheezy. Still coughing?"
"A little, mostly at night."
"Using the humidifier?"
"Yes," I whine, "Even though it makes me feel like I'm about
4 years old. I also wear my flannel
pajamas. What are you going to suggest
next, Vicks?"
"Wouldn't hurt," she teases as she puts everything back in her
little black bag. "You want some
tea?"
"No, I'm fine," I say as I rebutton my shirt and shove my tie
into my jacket pocket.
"Josh, you're going to sit here until you talk. Are you sure you don't
want any tea," Mrs. B says as she stands in front of me, hands on her
hips. She's clearly not letting me out
of here anytime soon.
"Tea would be nice, thanks."
I pace around for a few minutes while Dr. B. pours tea from the silver tea
set in the corner. I tried to help but
she waved me away. We settle down with
the tea, her in the chair, me on the couch. She kicks off her shoes and tucks
her legs under her, clearly getting comfortable. I don't think I'm ever getting out of here. She lets me sit in silence for about 2
minutes. "OK Josh, what's
wrong?"
"Didn't you already figure out what was wrong?" I tease. "You pretty much nailed it a little
while ago ma'am."
"Yes, I did. But there's more
to it."
"I just needed a little reassurance."
"And you got it. You're
fine."
"For how long?"
"Excuse me?"
"For how long am I going to be fine?" I whine as I fight the urge
to get up and pace again. I glance
around for something to pick up, to hold, to fidget with. The only thing I can reach is a stuffed
Elmo. I pick it up and absently pass it
back and forth between my hands.
"Josh, we've talked about this before.
Your life expectancy is normal.
Are you going to have some problems down the road from the damage done
by the bullet? Probably."
"Like what?" I ask even though I already know. I've heard the list dozens of times.
"Josh, must we do this....ok fine.
At some point, and I have no idea when, the pain, weakness and stiffness
in your right side will probably be bad enough that you need to use a cane. You're at risk for an aneurysm at the repair
site. You pulmonary function is also
slightly decreased and may cause you trouble, it may not. But to be honest, any
problems you have in the near future are going to be from your blood pressure. So change your lifestyle and your crappy
eating habits. Justice Brady's death was
a slap in the face. Not just to you, to
Toby, Leo and my husband. All of you
could take better care of yourselves and you all know that. But there's more to this than the physical
stuff. Right?"
"Yeah. It's about things I
regret not doing, things I regret not saying."
"You saw your life flash before you tonight, didn't you?"
"Yeah and frankly it was too damn short," I laugh as I slump down
a little more so I can rest my head on the back of the couch. I look down and realize I have Elmo clutched
to my chest. Mrs. Bartlet notices but
doesn't say anything and I, for some unknown reason, don't toss Elmo aside.
"And your life was missing a few things?" she guesses
correctly. I close my eyes and nod but
don't say anything. "A couple of
kids maybe. Some blue eyed kids with
curly blond hair?" she teases.
She didn't really just say that, did she?
I crack my eyes open and she winks at me.
Forget the heart attack I think I'm about to die of embarrassment right
here in her office. I can just see CJ
trying to spin the story.
"Josh listen to me," she says as she untucks her leg to reach out
and kick me to make sure I'm paying attention.
"Do I think you need to get your affairs together and plan your
funeral, of course not..."
"My affairs are in order," I protest, quickly groaning at the
double meaning.
"Not quite, but that's a conversation for another time," she
says, again with the winking.
"Seriously, you've had a wake up call....another wake up call. Not sure how many you need," she adds
under her breath. "Life is too
short to have regrets. Take care of
yourself and have fun Josh. You, Toby,
Leo, Jed you have to remember this place is not your life," she says as
she waves her arms around the room.
"Get out and live a little, be happy."
I can only nod as I sit up with Elmo in my lap.
"You can take him with you.
They left me a bunch to hand out to the kids at the clinic," Mrs.
Bartlet says as she points at Elmo.
There's a teasing tone to her voice but I can also tell she's
serious. So I stand up, tuck Elmo under
my arm and grab my suit jacket.
As I head back to my office I feel better than I have in quite a
while. Not sure exactly why, maybe because
I've just gotten some reassurance I'm not about to keel over, maybe because for
the first time in months I feel like I belong here, that I'm valuable. Maybe it's because of my new red furry friend
who at the moment is swinging from my hand as we walk down the hall.
If there's anything I've learned in recent years, it is to just be happy
when things are going well, don't question it too much...just be happy.
THE END
