“I’m on my way.”
“Thank you.” I ended the call and rested my head on my desk. I couldn’t recall ever feeling so bad.
By the time Dice arrived at my office, I’d thrown up so much there was nothing left to expel, yet the dry heaving continued.
“Daphne!” he gasped when he saw me. Things had definitely gotten worse since I called him.
“I think I need to go to the hospital,” I admitted. “Something’s wrong.”
“Okay,” he said and scooped me into his arms without hesitation.
I was too sick to care about what he was seeing or smelling by being so close to me. When he placed me in the front seat of his truck, I pushed him to the side and leaned forward to vomit once again. Only a small amount came out, but I was thankful it didn’t get on him or his truck. “You should probably grab a bag or something from inside.”
He disappeared into the office and came back with a small trash can.
“Thanks,” I said and took it from him. “I’m sorry about all this.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he assured me. “You’re sick. It happens to everyone.”
As he drove to the hospital, I closed my eyes and prayed for the nausea to stop. I’d never been so sick, and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. I vaguely heard Dice talking on his phone, but I was in no state to care about who he was talking to or what he was saying.
When we arrived at the hospital, he carried me inside, despite my protests. In all honestly, I was probably too weak to walk by that point. To my surprise, we were escorted to an exam room immediately, completely bypassing the waiting room.
“Hi, Daphne. I’m Dr. Vaughn, but most people call me Patch,” a man said. “And this is Gabby, but I think you’ve already met her. So, what’s going on?”
“I can’t stop throwing up, and I feel like I’m dying.”
“When did the symptoms start?” he asked.
“About an hour ago, I think.”
Gabby moved to the side of the bed and reached for my arm. “I’m going to take your vital signs. Then I’ll start an IV so we can give you something for the nausea and maybe some fluids.”
“Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I’ve never thrown up this much in my entire life.”
“Was this a gradual or sudden onset?” Patch asked.
“Sudden. I was fine all day.”
“No fever. Blood pressure is low, and heart rate is high,” Gabby said.
“What have you eaten today?” Patch asked.
“I had a bagel and cream cheese for breakfast and leftover lasagna for lunch.”
“Nothing else?”
“No. Why?”
“Well, this is presenting like food poisoning, but none of the things you ate are likely culprits.”
“Oh,” I gasped and frantically looked around for something to throw up in. Gabby handed me a basin just in time. Once that round of heaving subsided, I continued, “I also had part of a cookie. It tasted funny, so I didn’t eat all of it.”
“What kind of cookie?” Patch asked.
“Chocolate mint, I think. A client sent them to me as a thank you gift, but they came from a local bakery.”
“When did you eat the cookie?”