Dr. Howarth let out one of his patented patient sighs, the type of sigh that irritated Jed beyond belief. “I know you don’t want to stay, Jed, but I think we need to look at this long term, and try and figure out a way of managing it better. Otherwise, you’re going to end up back here with the same problems.”
Jed was silent. He knew the doctor was right, but the prospect of having a tube forced down his throat was daunting. They’d wanted to do it in Boston, but he’d resisted, distracted by dealing with the smashed-up state of his leg. No, scratch that. Distracted by not dealing with anything at all.
“What’s in the IVs?”
Max’s voice startled Jed. The last time he’d looked, he’d been absently fiddling with the zip on his hoodie, though Jed knew he was absorbing it all in his own way.
“Saline for hydration, and intravenous iron. I’ve set him up for a four-day cycle. You’re familiar with the side effects of the treatment, Jed. It’s the same as the shots you had. Initially, you might find you feel worse, but give it a few days. It will help in the end.”
“What are the side effects?”
Max again. Dr. Howarth smiled. Jed wanted to punch him. “Nausea, sickness, abdominal pain. Headache and fever are also possible. I’m going to schedule the endoscopy for tomorrow. You’re nil by mouth until then, but I’m guessing that’s not a problem right now.”
Not really.
“What about tea? Can he have tea?”
“Not yet. Might be helpful after, though. Everything’s going to feel a bit tender for a little while after the procedure. Do you have any more questions?”
Jed shook his head. He was beginning to feel redundant in the conversation. “I’m good.”
Dr. Howarth gathered his things. “Okay, I’ll leave you to rest, and check in on you later. How’s the sickness? Do you want some more Zofran?”
“No, thanks.”
Fuck Zofran. The drug stopped the physical action of throwing up, but the resulting vertigo was far worse than the nausea it eased. Now that the fog of sedation was beginning to clear, he felt like the damn bed was sliding down a hill.
“Fair enough. Call a nurse if you change your mind, or if you find yourself in pain. We can help you, Jed. It’s what we’re here for.”
Dr. Howarth left without giving Jed another chance to ignore him. The door closed with a quiet click. Jed looked for Max, but he didn’t have to look far. Max was already back in his place on the side of the bed.
Max leaned over and cupped Jed’s face in one hand. He stroked his cheek with his warm, calloused thumb. Jed closed his eyes, lulled by the gesture, and for a while neither of them spoke, but then Max sighed. “Are you pissed off with me?”
Jed forced a heavy eye open. “What for?”
“For talking to your doctor. I could tell you didn’t like it.”
“I didn’t mind.”
It was true. He’d expected Max’s questions in one form or other. He was a curious guy by nature.
“Good, because I’m not sorry. Some doctors are douche bags, but not that one. He’s good, and he wants to help you.”
“I know.”
Jed shifted slowly onto his good side. His injured leg was stiff and sore from being idle in bed for so long… come to think of it, he had no idea how long he’d been at the hospital. His mind was hazy. He remembered being sick the night before Kim arrived to turn his world upside down, and every word of their conversation, but things blurred after that. He had a vague memory of Dan hauling him off the kitchen floor, but he couldn’t be sure it was real. “What time is it?”
“Just after seven.” Max pulled back the sheets so Jed could flex his leg, but Jed could feel the tension rolling off him.
“Something on your mind?”
Max rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding? I feel like my brain is about to explode.”
His choice of words reminded Jed that he wasn’t the only one with health problems that couldn’t be ignored. “Are you feeling okay? Where’s Flo?”
Max scowled. “She’s outside terrorizing the waiting room. I’m fine. I’m… frustrated, not just with this, with everything. It’s such a bloody mess.”
“What’s bugging you most?”