Chapter 47
“You feeling
better, Nick?”
It had been half
an hour since the bone marrow aspiration, and Dr. Kingsbury had let him lie in
the examining room for a short while to recuperate before he attempted to drive
himself home. Claire had gone; Nick
insisted she didn’t have to stay any longer, feeling bad for keeping her there
as long as he did. He didn’t mind
anyway; somehow he didn’t feel like talking as much when his hip was searing
with pain. He was more content to just
lie there and moan and bitch in his head about how much it sucked.
“Yeah, I’m
feeling better,” he answered now, and truthfully, he was. He was sore, but the pain had dulled to a
weak throb that was definitely tolerable, considering that’s what his left shin
basically felt like all the time. With
some difficulty, he managed to sit up.
“Okay. Well, let me get your new infusion pump going
here…” He untied his hospital gown and
pulled it down in front so that she could get at his catheter. With the nimble fingers of an expert, she
quickly hooked the thin line of the new pump into the catheter.
“There you go, sir. Your clothes are over there,” she said,
pointing, “so go ahead and get dressed, and you can go.”
“Okay,” Nick
said. “I’ll see you in three weeks
then.”
Dr. Kingsbury
nodded, smiling, and started to leave the room so he could get changed. Then, she stopped. “Oh, wait, one thing,” she said, turning
back. “The results of your tests won’t
be in till probably tomorrow morning, and I’m sure things will be fine, but if
anything looks out of the ordinary, I’ll give you a call, okay?”
“Oh, okay,” Nick
replied casually, not thinking anything of it.
But the doctor
called him the very next day.
***
It was almost
noon when the phone rang, but Nick was still in bed, battling nausea. “Go away,” he mumbled, groaning as the
phone’s shrill, constant ringing plagued his ears. With a sigh, he rolled over and blindly
reached for the cordless on the night stand next to his bed; he managed to grab
it from its cradle, and, squinting tiredly, looked at the caller ID in the little
window on the phone. Reporters had been
calling him pretty much everyday since the TRL appearance, but he had done his
best to ignore them all. He sure as hell
didn’t want to talk to one now.
But the caller ID
did not register a private or blocked call, which was usually what it said when
it was a reporter or solicitor. Instead,
it said Tampa General. Immediately, a
wave of nausea rippled through Nick’s stomach, but this time, he was sure it
wasn’t from the chemo. A sheet of cold
sweat broke out on his skin, and with a shaking finger, he punched the “talk”
button on the phone and held it up to his ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this
Nick?” It was a woman’s voice, and he
knew, just as he had suspected, that it was Dr. Kingsbury.
Oh God, oh
God, why is she calling? His mind raced, coming up with all the worst
possibilities. What had his tests
shown? That the cancer had spread? Oh God… how bad was it? Is she gonna tell me I’m going to die?
“Hello? Nick?”
“Oh, yeah, this
is Nick,” Nick said quickly, heart pounding erratically.
“Oh, good morning,
Nick. This is Dr. Kingsbury.”
“Hi…”
Dr. Kingsbury
must have sensed the uneasiness in his voice, for she continued quickly, “Nick,
I know I said I would call you if anything turned up in your test results, and
I don’t want to scare you. Your chest
x-ray and bone marrow biopsy both looked great; no cancer cells. But the x-ray and CT scan of your leg show
that the hole has not been reduced by as much as I would have expected.”
“So what does
that mean?” Nick asked, wondering if he was supposed to feel relieved or not.
“It means that
the chemo is not working as well as it should be. I’d like to try you on some stronger drugs to
see if that helps.”
“Stronger drugs?”
Nick repeated in dismay. “Will that make
me even sicker than I am now?” Nausea coursed
through his body, reminding him just how much the stuff he was on now sucked.
“Probably,
yes. And I know that’s no fun, but Nick,
we need to try it. The therapy you’re on
now just isn’t doing the trick, and I’m afraid if we don’t try a more potent
drug combination, the hole will get bigger, and the cancer will begin to
spread. We need to keep it
contained. You understand?”
“Yeah,” Nick
replied glumly. “So when would I start
that stuff? In three weeks?”
“No, I would
prefer you start on it this week. And
I’m afraid you’ll need to stay in the hospital for a few days while you adjust
to it.”
“What?!” Oh man, this was sucking worse and worse with
each passing moment…
Dr. Kingsbury
chuckled. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t
like that. I’m so sorry, Nick, but
that’s just the way we have to do it. I
can’t just give it to you in a pump the very first time and send you home with
it. We have to observe you here at the
hospital to make sure you don’t have a bad reaction to it.”
“What, you don’t
call throwing up and having your hair fall out a bad reaction?” Nick
snapped. On the other end of the line,
Dr. Kingsbury was silent, and he immediately felt a bit guilty for giving her a
hard time. It wasn’t her fault; he knew
she was only trying to do what was best for him. “Sorry,” he mumbled an apology.
“That’s all
right. I understand,” said Dr. Kingsbury
gently. “What are your plans for the
week? Are there two or three days you
could set aside to check into the hospital?”
“Yeah,” Nick
sighed. “I haven’t made any plans for
this week; I try to keep the chemo weeks free cause I usually feel too shi- I
mean, bad - to do anything.”
“Okay… so… when
should we get this show on the road?”
Show on the
road… bad choice of
words… how he wished he were on the road now, with the guys, touring, instead
of here… would he ever be able to tour with them again? Or would this stupid disease always be here
to ruin all his plans?
“Nick?”
“Oh, sorry… um… I
guess let’s get it over with as soon as possible… can I come tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow would
be fine. I’ll make all the arrangements,
and you can check in tomorrow morning.
Okay?”
“Sure,” Nick
replied dully.
“Great. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow then,
and if things go well, you’ll be out of the hospital by Wednesday morning.”
“Okay. Bye, Dr. Kingsbury.” He hung up and lay back down in bed, burying
his face in his pillow. He closed his
eyes, but could not go back to sleep.
The queasy sensation of wanting to throw up, mixed with his newfound
worry, kept him wide awake.
***