“Yes, it is. I can use the lab at the hospital to get your results quickly and I can give you IV medicine and a blood transfusion. Both should help you feel better. We’ll check the baby at the hospital and make sure it's doing okay too.” Dr. Cole rushed from the room and Christina began to shake.
What am I going to do? Pulling her phone from her purse, she texted Addie.
C: Going to hospital. Need a blood transfusion and treatment for some pneumonia something. Doc says I’m sick.
A: OMG! Let us know what happens.
C: I will.
Christina wrinkled her nose and weighed her options with calling Grace. Finally, she mustered the courage and dialed her number. The phone rang three times before Grace answered.
“Hello?” Her voice was sharp and Christina couldn’t help but wince.
“Grace?”
“Where the hell have you been?” Grace cried. “Do you know how worried I have been?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Christina sighed, rubbing her forehead.
Grace snorted. “Oh, try me.”
“I need my best friend,” Christina pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion.
“What’s wrong?” Grace’s temper deflated immediately.
“Everything, Grace. Everything is wrong. I need my best friend.” Christina sobbed, her war with her tears lost.
“I’m here, I’m listening! You’ve pushed me away and have been ignoring me. I thought you were over me or something,” Grace babbled.
“Stop. It’s not you. It’s me. It’s always been me. I need your help.” Christina cut her off, knowing she didn’t have long before the ambulance came.
“Okay, what do you need? Anything! Name it!” Grace fervently promised.
“You’re such a good person, Grace. I need you to—” She covered the mouth piece as the nurse came in to tell her the ambulance was there to take her to the hospital. “Wait until I call you again. I just need to know you’re there.”
“What’s going on?” Grace demanded. “I’m here, but I want some answers.”
Christina followed the nurse down the hall. “I know you do, and you deserve them. I’ll give them to you soon. I love you, slut.” She hung up and shut off her phone before Grace could respond or call back. She at least knew her friend was there. For now, anyway.
Chapter Fourteen
Christina lay in a hospital bed hooked up to an IV. Blood trickled through the tubes and into her veins. She tried hard not to be completely grossed out by the thought of someone else’s blood filling her veins. The doctor promised her it would help her feel a little better. Since she’d arrived by ambulance, the doctor had pulled blood to check for different things and they were preparing to take her to get an ultrasound as soon as her transfusion was over.
Christina felt very alone in the room and scared. A nurse came into the room some time later with a smile on her face. “Hi there, Christina, I’m Vickie! How about we get you down to x-ray and then over to ultrasound? We’re going to run an x-ray on your chest just to check stuff out, okay? Your transfusion is over and I’m going to disconnect this and we’ll be ready to go. I have a wheelchair out in the hall for you.”
“Okay,” Christina murmured. She watched as the nurse disconnected her IV and put the used tubing and bag into a container. The nurse lowered the railing on her bed and Christina took her hand to follow her out into the hallway. Once she was sitting in the wheelchair, she was rushed down the hallway at breakneck speed.
The x-ray technician draped a lead shield around her belly. “Stand here and turn this way.” Christina did as she was told and the process moved quickly. Once she finished, she went for an ultrasound where the tech was already waiting for her. Once she lay back on the table, the tech covered her lower half with a blanket and pulled up her hospital gown.
“Just going to squirt this gel here and see how things look.” She jumped at the cold goo on her skin. “Sorry about that.”
Christina watched the screen as the technician swirled the wand and began measuring her baby. He was beautiful and she fought against the tears filling her eyes again. “Is he okay?”
“He looks great. Nineteen weeks and two days by my measurements.” The technician made a few more notes and passed her a rag to wipe the gel off her belly.
“Can I have a picture?” Christina asked hopefully.
“Sure, just one second.” The technician printed a roll of shots and handed them to her before helping her back into her chair and taking her back to her room.
The waiting was driving her insane, but thankfully she had a TV in her room and she found a movie to watch while she waited. Eventually the doctor came into the room with a furrowed brow. “I have talked to Dr. Imohara and Dr. Raleigh. They didn’t start you on the medicines for the pneumocystis pneumonia because of the potential risk to your baby. It should have been started. I looked at your chest x-ray and you have some fluid in your lungs.”
“What does this mean?” she asked, her nose wrinkling as she tried to process the jargon.
“I was immediately concerned when you mentioned the little cough. Whether you realized it or not you coughed several times while we talked. My guess was that your immune system dropped between your last appointment and coming to see me. Seeing the fluid on the x-ray confirms it for me,” Dr. Cole continued, not really answering her questions.
“I don’t understand. Please explain it to me!” She huffed irritably.
“I think you have pneumocystis pneumonia. It’s really common. It’s caused by a fungus called Pneumocystis jiroveci. A healthy immune system will fight it off and most people never have a bit of trouble. But in your case…you can’t fight it off. We need to start IV antibiotics immediately. Bactrim is the first line drug in this case. It was shown to cause cleft palate in animal studies and it can cause jaundice in babies, but I’d be more worried about jaundice if you were later in your pregnancy.”
Dread filled Christina and she clenched the thin blanket covering her between her fingers. “What happens if this doesn’t work?”
“The success rate is really high. It’s almost entirely possible to knock out the infection.” Dr. Cole attempted to reassure her.
“Almost entirely. So it’s not one hundred percent,” Christina whispered.
“No, not much in life is. Do you know if you are allergic to sulfa drugs? ” he asked quickly, making notes in her chart.
“I don’t think I am. So what happens if it doesn’t work?” Christina repeated, needing to know the answer.
“Ah, well.” He paused to clear his throat, visibly upset by the question. “You could die.”
“So if I died, what would happen to my baby?” Christina pressed.
“If you died today, your baby wouldn’t survive. A baby has to be past twenty-four weeks to be considered viable.”
“Would the baby be okay?” Christina begged.
“Frankly, it depends. Some cases have turned out great and others did not. But you don’t need to worry. We’re going to look at this having the best possible outcome. You need to stay here until we get your titers down to appropriate levels.” The doctor smiled reassuringly at her. “Don’t sit here and doom and gloom, it will be okay.”
Christina nodded as the doctor turned to leave the room. She whispered as the door closed, “But what if it’s not?”
Vickie returned to hook her up to IV medicines, the antibiotic for pneumocystis pneumonia, and new HIV medication. “You’re not going to feel really great with these. Can I get you something to drink? Maybe a ginger ale?”
“Sure, we’ll try it.”
Within minutes of her new medicine starting, she began to feel itchy. As Vickie came back with her soda, she casually mentioned her itchiness and Vickie paled. “Are you allergic to sulfa drugs?”
“I told the doctor not that I know of, why?”
Vickie frowned and checked her chart. “Let me know if the itching gets any worse, okay?”
“Can we put someone
on my emergency list, just in case something happens?” Christina smiled up at the pretty blonde nurse.
“Sure, let me get that put in for you.” Vickie opened her chart and pulled a pen from her lanyard that hung around her neck. “Name and number?”
“Grace. Grace Evans. Do you mind handing me my purse and I’ll give you her number.” Vickie turned and picked up her purse and passed it to Christina, who dug through the bag and located the phone. Turning it on, she found four missed calls and as many messages from Grace.
“Her number is 401-837-9876.”
“Perfect, we didn’t have anyone down as an emergency contact, and now we do.” Vickie closed the chart and placed it back at the foot of the bed. “Do you need anything else?”
“No, I’m fine, still just a little itchy.”
“Let me know if it gets any worse.” Vickie hurried out of the room, presumably to take care of another patient.
Christina tried to ignore the itching, but soon it became unbearable. Little red spots were coming up on her hands and arms and she pushed the call button on her remote. The nurse’s station picked up. “Can we help you?”
Christina tried to speak but found that no words could come out. Panicked she began beating her hand against the bedside table. Vickie came rushing in and yelled, “Oh, shit. I need help in here!”
Christina’s vision grew hazy as doctors and nurses came rushing in and out of her room. She jumped as something was jammed in her leg and tried to cry out from the pain. Her eyes slipped closed and she knew nothing more.
After a time, she awoke, and her room was dusky and quiet except for beeping. The concept of time was foreign to her and she still itched. Rummaging under the covers she found the remote and pressed the call button. No one answered, but soon a new nurse came to her door.
“Miss Morgan, how are you feeling?”
“Itchy and tired,” Christina mumbled. “What happened?”
“You had a severe allergic reaction to the Bactrim. We had to stop it and start a new medicine that isn’t in the sulfa family. It’s not the first line drug for pneumocystis pneumonia, but it should still work. We had to put a catheter in while you were out.”
She shifted in the bed and frowned at a lumpy feeling on her back. “Oh. Something is bothering me.” Sitting up awkwardly, she reached behind herself.
“It’s probably the strap to the fetal monitor. Let me readjust it for you.”
“Why did I need that?”
“We just wanted to keep an eye on your baby, no big deal. I’ll be back to check in on you in a little while.”
“Can I have my purse?” Christina asked, catching the nurse before she left the room.
“Sure!” She picked it up and passed it to Christina.
Christina opened it and pulled out her phone. Another five calls from Grace, who was probably frantic. It was four in the morning, and she tried to think about what time it would be for Grace. She’d never been great with time zones, but she knew it was the middle of the night. Instead of calling Grace, she sent her a text message.
C: I am in the hospital. Sorry I didn’t get up with you sooner.
She didn’t expect a response, but jumped as her phone buzzed.
G: What? Are you okay?
C: No I’m not. I’m sick.
G: Are they keeping you?
C: For a while.
G: OMG! I am coming up there.
C: You don’t need to do that.
G: I am coming. You owe me some answers and I’m coming to collect that debt.
Christina groaned and rubbed her eyes before she responded. Dammit, Grace.
C: I don’t know if you’ll like the answers.
G: They can’t be that bad. What hospital?
C: Yale-New Haven. Don’t come unless you’re able to deal with what I have to say.
G: I’m looking up flights now. I will be there as soon as I can.
Christina leaned her head back against the pillows and blew out a slow breath. She would owe her best friend answers, and soon. That was something she wasn’t sure she was ready for, at all. Hey, Grace, Christina here. Oh yeah, I was totally lying about what happened over Christmas break. I found out I have AIDS and I’m pregnant! She sighed. Who the hell wants to hear that? I guess I’m going to have to fess up about Drake too, huh? Ah that’s going to go over fabulously, isn’t it? But it has to be done. I’ve put off telling her long enough and she needs to know before I ask her for help. She has a right to know.
Chapter Fifteen
Twelve hours later Christina heard a soft knock at the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s Grace. Can I come in?”
Christina stared at the door for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. “Yes, you can come in.” She felt dizzy as her best friend peeked in the door. “Hi, Grace,” she finally managed. “Thanks for coming.”
Grace stepped into the room and closed the door behind herself. She looks good. Christina took in her friend’s pretty face and then she smiled. “You look great.”
“You do too,” Grace replied and Christina chuckled.
“There’s no need to lie. I look like shit.”
“Okay, you do, you look like shit. What in the hell happened to your hair and teeth? Why are you in the hospital and why the hell have you been avoiding me?” Grace crossed her arms over her chest and appeared to be angry.
Christina pointed at the pale green chair beside her bed. “Sit down, it’s a long story.”
Grace flopped into the chair beside the bed and crossed her arms again. “I’m sitting. Tell the story.”
Christina rearranged the blankets over her belly, not quite ready to tell that part of the story yet and got comfortable on the thin mattress. “Some of it’s ugly.”
“Stop lollygagging and just tell the damn story. Jesus Christ!” Grace snapped.
Christina’s eyes bugged and her mouth fell open. “Well, aren’t you just Miss Sunshine today?”
Grace huffed and leaned back in the chair. “If your best friend had been avoiding you for months, was suddenly sick enough to be in the hospital and you hadn’t slept in like forty hours, you’d be pissy too, so excuse me for not shitting hearts and farting rainbows.”
Christina sighed softly, her shoulders bowing in with the weight of her secrets. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“The story. Tell it,” Grace demanded, her tone brooking no argument.
Christina inhaled slowly and coughed a few times. “It’s not an easy story to tell…” Her voice trailed off and Grace shot her a sharp look. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t tell it, damn! Just that it wasn’t easy. Remember I told you I had a pregnancy scare when I was fourteen?” Grace nodded and Christina continued. “Well, it wasn’t just a pregnancy scare. I was molested by my stepfather, my mother’s husband number five and I got pregnant. When my mother found out she made me get an abortion. I had a back alley thing, kinda like the girl on Dirty Dancing, but thankfully I didn’t get sick after. Well, I did, but not from the abortion. At least I don’t think. Hell, I don’t know.”
Grace’s mouth hung open in shock. “What the hell?”
Christina held her hand up. “Let me finish. I told you not to come if you couldn’t handle the story. It’s not over.”
“I’m listening,” Grace whispered, her hand partially covering her mouth.
“My mother and stepdad aren’t nudists either. I’m not even sure why I lied about that, but I did. Maybe because it was funny or because it made me seem interesting.” She paused to cough again, and Grace passed her the box of tissues. She wiped her mouth and continued. “Sorry about that. I also lied about my mother being sick over Christmas break, Grace.”
Hurt flickered in Grace’s warm eyes. “Why did you lie to me?”
“My mother would tell you that I’m a pathological liar and I love attention. In a way maybe she’s right. It’s easier to tell a colorful story sometimes than to tell the truth. I’m not proud of the lies I’ve told and I’v
e messed things up. You need to understand that I’m not the good person you think I am,” Christina pleaded softly.
Grace chewed her bottom lip and sighed. “But you are a good person. I know you are.”
“My story isn’t over yet. Don’t make your decision about a character halfway through the story. Haven’t you ever heard to wait until the last page? Maybe the bad person redeems herself. Or, maybe the bad person is rotten to the core. We won’t know until the end. I was going to Oswego to stay with my mother for Christmas and she forgot to come pick me up. It was no big deal, except that it was snowing hard. No taxis were running and it was getting late. A man named Rand offered to give me a ride to my house. He was heading that direction.”
“That was nice of him!” Grace interrupted.
“Didn’t I tell you not to judge a character until the end of the story? Rand took me halfway there, then pulled over his jeep. He was determined I was going to pay for my ride. He didn’t want money. He wanted me. After he took me, he left me on the side of the road and took off. He killed himself on Christmas by hanging himself with Christmas lights after I remembered his face and first name and they put him on TV.” Christina closed her eyes against the flood of memories washing through her. Tears filled her eyes and as Grace grasped her hand and squeezed, she broke down. Sobs wracked her slender shoulders and she jumped as Grace hugged her.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“If I hadn’t lied, I would’ve been with you in Phoenix and then nothing else bad would’ve happened,” Christina wailed.
“What do you mean nothing else bad would’ve happened?” Grace pulled back and sat in the chair again. “What else happened?”
“Ah, it’s time for me to come clean about another lie…remember how I told you my professor hit on me and I told him no?” Christina wiped at her eyes and blew her nose.
“Yeah, I do.” Grace’s mouth pursed, and Christina wondered if she was thinking about Drake.
Finding Christina (Wild Rose #2) Page 10