The Rag Doll Man

by Patrick Whittaker on 21/06/10 at 2:36 pm

By Patrick Whittaker
2,500 words

Damn Jordan. There he goes again, whining and wailing like all the world’s pains were in him and him alone. Why will he not be quiet?

I’ve told him. I’ve said, “Look, Jordan. You haven’t got it half as bad as you think. You’re not in pain. You’re not dying or about to become a vegetable. With our help and a little luck, there’s no reason you can’t live to a ripe old age.”

His self-pity disgusts me.

In the morning, I’ll wheel him around the hospital. Give him a dose of reality. I’ll show him the little boys and girls whose days are spent in chemotherapy, whose daily routine consists of one injection after another.

I’ll let him taste their pain — real pain. And then he can chat with the parents who know that their little Tommy or Sarah has but months to live.

But would it do any good? There are people who will never accept their lot in life. They feel the universe should bend to their will, cater to their every need. Jordan is such a person.

There’s not a mark on him. He can breathe without difficulty. He can talk, cry, shit, and even smile if only he’d give it a try.

Clinically, there is nothing wrong with Jordan. Except, of course, he’s not all there. .....