“Alright. Well, let’s start with today. What did you have for breakfast?”
“I had a breakfast smoothie. It was just fruit, honey, and almond milk.”
“Okay.” He scribbled something down. “Any snacks?”
“I had a granola bar.”
“Okay. And what did you have for lunch?”
I paused while I thought about it. Drix looked at me.
“Uhm…” I shifted in my seat.
“Do you remember what you had for dinner?” The doctor asked and silence took over the room.
“Myome,” Drix said tightly and I looked over at him. “I know fucking well all you ate today wasn’t that fucking smoothie and a granola bar.”
“I was busy!” I argued.
The doctor cleared his throat and nodded.
“Okay, so at least we know it’s extremely probable that your issue is not eating enough today. Undereating can cause all the issues I mentioned, but if it isn’t corrected, things can get worse. It can cause your bones to thin and cause issues for your organs. Skipping a meal here and there isn’t lethal and I’d never want to present it to you like it is, but I will say not eating is just as serious as overeating.”
“I get it.” I nodded. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind in the future.”
“Okay. Well, I’m going to get you something to help with the electrolytes but the skin coloring and heart rate should even out to normal on their own as long as you have a moderately balanced diet. With that being said, I want you to see your primary care doctor in a week to make sure things are going inthe correct direction. I’ll write you a note to sit out, at least for tomorrow, and I want you to pay attention to your body and take things easy. Can I trust you to do that?”
“Can he?” Drix echoed.
I shot him a look then looked at the doctor.
“Yeah. I’ll be sure to take care of myself.”
“Good. I’ll be right back with the pill.”
“Thank you.”
The doctor jotted a few things down then left the room. I kept my eyes on the door even after he was out, just so I didn’t have to look at Drix.
“What’s up, Twin?” Drix walked over and sat at the foot of the hospital bed. “You got an eating disorder or what?”
“No.” My eyebrows knitted together and I shook my head. “No.”
“Then, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I just… I’ve been busy and haven’t actually felt hungry. I’m not intentionally forcing myself not to eat. It’s just…” I sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Yeah, well, we’ve got to make shit shake, Myome, or you won’t be able to travel and do press for this album, let alone go on tour. We talked about this shit when we talked about your rehearsing practices. Your voice is dependent on your body. Do you think you can have a weak body and strong vocals?” he asked. “Huh? Do you think you can perform while not taking care of yourself?” He didn’t give me a chance to respond. “Obviously not or you wouldn't have been laid out on the fucking floor of that club.” He slapped his hands together and my lip automatically poked out.
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” I reminded him.
Drix closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Alright.”
“I feel like I’m the one who’s sick but you’re the one upset.”
“Alright,” Drix repeated.