“What happened?”
“He caught pneumonia. He’s been sleeping a lot, and his family is with him. He won’t take that jersey that Montgomery gave him off. He’s been asking for you, honey.”
Shit. This is the part of my job that I absolutely hate. Nick could get better, but his cancer is aggressive, and to catch pneumonia with all the chemo in his body is not a good thing. I grab his chart and head for his room, schooling my features and straightening my shoulders. Nick doesn’t need to see me sad; he needs me to be professional and upbeat. Reassuring.
I knock lightly on his door and poke my head inside. Nick’s mom is sitting next to his bed, knitting. She looks exhausted.
“Hi, Meg. Come on in.” She offers me a half smile.
“Hey, how’s our guy?” I ask and come in the room. Nick’s asleep, and just as Jill said, he’s in his jersey. His breathing is labored and he’s a bit sweaty. I take his temp and frown at the high number, then check his chart to see when he received meds for fever last.
“Not good,” she whispers and blinks tears from her eyes.
“Hey, Meg.” Nick’s voice is nothing but a gravelly whisper.
“Hey, buddy.” I take his hand in mine and smile down at him. “I hear you got sick on me while I was away.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, we’re gonna get you better, okay? You just rest.” I pat his thin shoulder and sigh as he falls back to sleep. “I’m going to go get him some more medicine for his fever and catch up with his doctor. I just got here and wanted to come see him when I heard the news.”
“Thanks, Meg. I’m glad you’re here today.”
I leave his room and march straight to the nurses’ station with Nick’s chart.
“Who was assigned to Nick this morning?”
“Elena, why?” Jill asks with a frown.
“He’s two hours late in getting fever meds, Jill. He’s burning up. Did she leave for the day?”
“I think so.”
“Well, she’s getting written up for this. If she can’t keep track of her patient’s meds, she shouldn’t be here.” With that, I walk to the charge nurse office and pull my phone out, and text Will.
If you have any time available, at any point today, can you come to the hospital?
Will won’t magically cure anything, but it might lift Nick’s spirits to see him, and I’ll try anything to get him better.
I know that we shouldn’t have favorite patients, but Nick is special to me. He’s been here for three months already, and we were hopeful that the treatments were working and we’d be able to send him home by the end of September. Now I’m not so sure.
My phone pings with a response from Will.
What’s wrong?
I’m fine. I respond. Nick’s really sick.
I probably shouldn’t impose on him like this. My job isn’t his problem. Just as I start to text him again to say never mind, he responds with I’ll bring you dinner and chat with Nick for a bit. 7 ok?
I grin as I respond.
Perfect. Thank you. I owe you.
*
“He doesn’t look good,” Will remarks and takes a bite of his Chinese food.
“He’s not,” I reply. We’re sitting in the charge nurse office, the door is closed, and an array of Chinese food choices is spread over the desk. Will arrived about thirty minutes ago, and after kissing me silly by the elevator, I took the bags of food and he said a quick hello to the sick teenager.
“I’m sorry, Meg. He’s a great kid.” His eyes are somber.
“Yeah, he is.” I push my plate away and lean back in the chair, brushing my hands vigorously though my hair. “I hate this part of my job.”
“You look tired.”
“I’m okay.” I shrug and gaze over at him. His eyes are worried, roaming over my face and I love him for being concerned about me and for just being here. “Thanks for coming. I needed to see you.”
His eyes flare with happiness at my words and he grins over at me. “All you ever have to do is ask, babe. Come here.”
He pushes his chair back from the desk as I stand and quickly walk around to him. He pulls me down in his lap and I curl up against him. He tucks my head under his chin and caresses my back soothingly.
God, it feels good to be in his arms.
*
It’s been a long day. Nick is no better when I leave for the night, and I feel guilty because I won’t be there for the next few days. So much can happen in that small amount of time. Maybe I should pick up a shift. I’ll call the day nurse tomorrow and see if they need me over the next few days.
I’d love to go to Will’s but I ended up working late. It’s almost 4:00 a.m., and he has a game tonight, so I decide to just go home and not bother him. I’m still driving the Rover. It’s much fancier than my Toyota sedan, and is fun to drive.
My phone suddenly starts ringing and I frown when I see Football Star flashing across the screen.
“Hello?”
“Where are you?” he sounds sleepy.
“In your car. I just left work; I got out late.”