Unwell (The Un Series Book 1)

by Robin Laine

  “Good grab your things. We’re out.”

  Chapter 16

  Azley

  I wake early the next morning, barely five am, and my eyes are sore and puffy. My entire body aches as I lay in bed, curled into a ball. My lower back has pain shooting through it, and I know relief will come soon enough when I eventually make it to the bathroom. The problem, though, is getting there. The pain is constant, practically unbearable. It feels like something inside of me is changing. I can feel it coursing through my veins like a virus, speeding up my heart rate, raising my blood pressure, making me lightheaded and dizzy when I try to raise my head off the pillow. I want to bury myself under the covers, sleep until the day is over.

  Praying to God to end this excruciating pain, I gently roll myself to the edge of my bed, sliding my legs slowly to the floor so I’m resting on my knees, face planted in the mattress. After a few deeps breaths, I push to stand and walk slowly to the bathroom. I’m hunched over, arms wrapped around my waist, and fall onto the toilet because it hurts too much to bend further for sitting gently. Why do I hurt so much? This is nothing like any of the pain I’ve experienced before. It lasts long after I’ve relieved myself. I’m not sure how long I sit there, hunched over with my head in my hands, but the pain finally subsides enough for me to move. I brush my teeth and take a few ibuprofens before making my way back to my bedroom. I pull on a set of sleep pants and a t-shirt, then climb into bed next to Evan.

  He rolls over, wrapping a strong arm around me to tug me close to him, grumbling incoherently in his sleep. I don’t have the energy to wrap my arms around him so I bury my face in his chest, just breathing him in while thinking about how last night was so amazing. Tyler insisted he had to have pizza for dinner, so Evan took us to a restaurant that not only served pizza, but also had a large, kid friendly gaming area. They roamed around to all of the games, Evan helping him play them and rescued him from the tube tower when he got stuck at the top, crying for help. It was hilarious watching this big man squeeze his body through all the tubes to get to the top, bringing him down the slide on his lap. Tyler never left Evan’s side after that. Once we were home and my little bug was asleep, though, my God did he hold up his promise to make love to me. Slow and sensual was his pace, whispered words of love and devotion, his hands glided over my body as he worshipped every inch of me. I fell asleep to the rhythm of his heart beating as I lay against his chest, wrapped up in the cocoon of his strong arms.

  My throat has a tickle in it, and I can feel a cough coming on. I try to hold it in, squeezing my eyes shut and holding my breath. After a few minutes, it breaks free so I push my face into the mattress as best I can to keep from coughing all over him. Evan startles awake, asking me, “You all right, Az? That cough sounds horrible.”

  I look up to his gorgeous face, taking in the concern in his eyes. Wiping at my own eyes, I tell him, “Yeah, I think maybe I have a cold coming on. I’ll be fine, though.”

  He places a soft kiss against my forehead, lingering there for a moment. “You’re burning up, Sugar. Maybe you should stay home today. I’ll drop Tyler off next door on my way to the station. Yeah?”

  “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. What time does your shift start?” I whisper hoarsely. My throat is starting to ache and I need water. Another coughing fit starts as soon as I finish speaking, so Evan grabs me a glass of water. It feels so good trickling down my throat I drink the whole thing. He refills my glass, setting it on my night stand for me.

  “Maybe I should call your mom and ask her to come over. You need to see a doctor. I don’t think this is just a cold.” Evan is brushing my hair out of my face. The coolness of his fingers is a welcome relief against my hot skin. All I can do is nod my agreement. He leaves my bedroom to make the call while I burrow further under the covers. I must fall asleep, because the next thing I know he is whispering in my ear.

  “Your mom is here and Tyler is with Mrs. Zwayer. I have to leave, but I’ll call later when I can to check on you.” I grunt to let him know I heard him and he laughs quietly as he pulls away.

  I hear muffled voices in the living room before my mom enters my room. The side of the bed dips as she sits down next to me. She gently pushes a thermometer into my mouth, making sure I get the tip under my tongue. It beeps after a few minutes and a worried look crosses her pretty face as she reads the digital display.

  “Okay, my sweet girl, let’s get you up and to urgent care. We’ll get you feeling better in no time.”

  My mom helps me get a pair of socks on my feet along with my shoes. It’s cold outside, so she also helps me into my jacket. I don’t know why I feel so horrible today when yesterday I felt fine. I’ve never been hit this hard with a cold, or even the flu, before. The symptoms usually come on slowly over the course of a couple of days. The ride to the clinic feels like it takes ten hours rather than the ten-minute ride it really is. My throat is killing me, the pills I took earlier not doing a damn thing to help with the pain. I’m both hot and cold, and all I want to do is lay down and go back to sleep.

  Thankfully, the wait to be seen isn’t long. I’m sitting on the exam table, a blood pressure cuff around my left arm and a thermometer in my mouth. When the nurse is done checking my pulse and temp, she removes the cuff and asks me, “Have you always had a problem with high blood pressure?”

  “No,” I answer. “I’ve never had a problem with that before. How high is it?”

  “It isn’t bad enough to be too concerned, it may just be high because you’re sick. Just make sure you have your primary care doctor check it next time you see him.” With that, she leaves the room as she lets me know the doctor will be in shortly.

  I lay back on the exam table and close my eyes. The tickle in my throat begins again and I’m soon in the throes of another coughing fit. It’s bad enough that it causes my lungs to hurt as well. I need water. Lots and lots of water. I get up and start searching the cabinets for paper cups. Opening every single one that isn’t locked, I find gowns, paper towels, tongue depressors, and a plethora of other things medical, but no damn paper cups. What the hell? Desperate, I turn the faucet on and stick my face under it. My mouth fills with the water and I hold it in like a chipmunk holding a years’ worth of nuts in its cheeks. I let it slowly trickle down my throat, letting it soothe the ache.

  The doctor walks in as I’m wiping my face off and has the nerve to ask how I’m feeling. Seriously? How am I feeling? Would I be here if I was anything else but sick? Come on. I don’t voice this little tangent out loud. Instead, I grunt in his direction as I climb back onto the table. It’s the best I can do to voice my displeasure with the question.

  He does the routine of checking my lungs, eyes, ears, nose, and then my throat, humming every time he switches between them. “Ah yes, looks like we have some strep throat going on. I’ll take a swab and we’ll run a rapid strep test to make sure, but I’m pretty confident it’s going to be positive. Your lungs sound raspy as well. I’ll write you a prescription for a broad-spectrum antibiotic to cover both, and some cough medicine as well.”

  I tear up and gag as he runs two swabs along the back of my throat. Once he leaves the room, I run back to the sink for more water. The nurse returns ten minutes later with forms for me to sign and lets me know that my prescriptions have been called in to my pharmacy. “Make sure to call your doctor to schedule a follow up for three days from now. I hope you feel better soon.”

  I thank her and walk out to the waiting area to find my mom. She takes me home and I climb back into bed while she goes to pick up my scripts. I fall into a fitful sleep for next few hours, unable to get comfortable for very long. I hear my cell phone ringing, reach out blindly to grab it, find it buried under my pillow. I wonder how it got there? Squinting my eyes to see the screen, I swipe my finger across it before putting it to my ear. “’Lo?” I whisper with my face squished into my pillow.

  “Azley? How you doing Sugar?” I sigh at the sound of Evan’s sexy voice. It brings a calm
over my body I haven’t felt since I was in his arms this morning.

  “Hi. Not so great. I have strep and bronchitis. I wish you were here.”

  “So do I. Just a few more days and I’ll be there before you know it. Get some rest and I’ll call you in the morning,” he tells me.

  “I’m trying. I love you.” I whisper back.

  “Love you too, Sugar.” He disconnects the call and I let my phone drop to my bed. I roll over, trying to find a comfortable position.

  For the next three days, I do not sleep. My throat and my lungs are getting worse instead of better. I just can’t get comfortable no matter what I do. If I lay on my back, I can’t breathe. If I roll onto one of my sides, I feel as though I am laying on concrete; sharp pains shoot through my hips. If I fall asleep, it isn’t for more than five minutes before pain wakes me once again. I am beyond miserable, and pray to God to just take me. I can’t eat, or even keep my medicine down. If I take a sip of water, it immediately comes back up; my body rejects everything I put into it.

  On the third night, my mother decides it’s time to take me to the emergency room at Banner Ironwood Medical Center; leaving Tyler in the care of Mrs. Zwayer. I am so weak; I have to lay my head on my mother’s shoulder in the waiting room. The green, cushioned chairs have hard, wood arms that push into my chest; doubling the pain I feel. For hours, we sit in the waiting area. I can’t take this pain anymore and so I silently cry on her shoulder.

  Fed up with how long it’s taking for me to be seen, my mom storms the nurses station. “Just how much longer is this going to take? My daughter is in pain. So much pain she’s in tears. She’s been sick for three days and she’s getting worse by the second. Please, she needs to see a doctor now!”

  “What’s your daughter’s name, ma’am?” I recognize the nurses voice, but I can’t place it. My head hurts too much to think.

  “Azley Jenkins,” my mom tells her.

  “Azley? Where is she?” I can hear the panic in the woman’s voice and feet shuffling quickly. “Azley, dear, oh my goodness. Hang on darling girl, I’m going to take care of you.” A palm touches my cheek tenderly and I look up to see worried eyes staring into mine. They look just like Evan’s. Mrs. Brooks. I forgot she was a nurse here. She stands and walks away, coming back with a wheel chair. She and my mother help me into it, then I’m being wheeled through double doors into the ER’s exam area. I guess it does pay to know people after all.

  Once I’m settled on a gurney, Mrs. Brooks takes my vitals and asks my mom questions about how long I’ve been sick, what medicines I’ve been taking. I just lay here, listening, wishing Evan was here holding me. “Your blood pressure is a little high, Azley dear, but you do have quite a fever going on as well. Also, do you think you can make it to the bathroom so you can give me a sample, or would you prefer to use a bed pan?” Mrs. Brooks gives me a sympathetic look.

  “I think I can make it to the bathroom as long as I can use the wheel chair. I don’t think I’ll be able to walk and I really don’t want to use a bed pan if I don’t have to.” God, please, no bed pans.

  “That’s fine, darling. I’ll let your momma take you while I let the doctor know your vitals so far. Just give the sample to the nurses at the desk so they can send it to the lab.”

  “Mrs. Brooks, can you please call Evan for me? I tried earlier, but he didn’t answer.” I ask her.

  “Of course, I will. He’s probably out on a call. I’ll get a hold of his captain if he doesn’t answer and have him tell Evan he needs to get his ass down here.”

  She gives me a wink, then points us to a restroom across the hall. My mom helps me get there and onto the toilet. If I didn’t feel so shitty right now, I’d be completely embarrassed. Instead, I’m so grateful she’s here helping me. I struggle a little at first to get that cup in the right spot without making a mess on myself. They really couldn’t come up with a better way to get your pee? I pull the cup out from under me and check to make sure I have enough for them.

  My mom gets me back into the wheel chair, placing the urine cup on the nurses’ station as we pass it. Mrs. Brooks is in the room waiting and helps me back into the bed. She inserts an IV into my arm before attaching a tube from a bag to it. “These are fluids to help hydrate you. I can’t give you any medicine for pain until the doctor sees you. I’m sorry about that.” I lay back and close my eyes, wanting desperately to fall asleep.

  The door opens and I glance up, hoping to see Evan walk in. Instead, an older man in a white lab coat walks up to the side of the bed. “Good afternoon Ms. Jenkins, I’m Dr. Patel. Can you tell me what brought you in this afternoon?” He has kind, dark brown eyes and laugh lines around his eyes and mouth.

  I tell him everything, starting with the morning a few days ago, how much pain I’ve been in, how hard it is to breathe, and being unable to eat or sleep. He checks my throat and then my lungs. “I’d like to get an x-ray of your lungs and make sure you don’t have pneumonia. We’ll put you on a stronger antibiotic as well. Don’t worry, we’re going to take good care of you.”

  Dr. Patel turns to Mrs. Brooks and dictates the tests he wants done and orders some pain meds, along with the new medicine for my strep throat. I breathe a sigh of relief knowing I’m going to be getting something to help take this pain away. Evan’s mom returns shortly, “This is Demerol, Azley. It will feel a little cold going in, but it works quickly.”

  I fall asleep soon after I receive the pain meds. I don’t know how long I slept, but I wake to Dr. Patel gently nudging my shoulder. “Azley, it’s going to be awhile before we get your test results back. I’m worried about how this infection is affecting you. So, I’ve ordered a room for you to stay in for a few days so we can monitor you. Someone should be down soon to take you up.”

  I nod, not able to speak. I watch the doctor leave my room, and before the door closes all the way, Evan comes running in. “Azley! I got my mom’s message and came here as fast as I could. I’m sorry Sugar. I would have been here sooner if I could.”

  Evan rests his hip on the edge of my bed, leaning over as I reach up to wrap my arms around him. He envelops me in a strong hold and I bury my face in his neck. The comfort I feel in his arms brings a sense of peace over me. I never want him to let go. I could die in his arms, knowing I’ve never loved a man as much I love him and that he loves me just as much.

  “Evan, darling, I’m going to need you to let go of my patient so I can give her some of the good stuff.” Mrs. Brooks pats him on the back and he slowly releases his hold on me. Once he’s backed away a little, Mrs. Brooks pulls a syringe out of her pocket. She slides the needle into the tube attached to my arm, slowly depressing the plunger. “This is more of the antibiotic, Azley. I’ll come upstairs to check on you later when my shift down here is over.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Brooks, I appreciate you getting my daughter back here so quickly.” She nods to my mom, telling her ‘you’re welcome’ before she leaves.

  “Mom,” I croak out. I go into a coughing fit from trying to talk, but I manage to get out Tyler’s name. I need to know my son is okay, that he’s being taken care of.

  “Shh, he’s fine, he’s with Mrs. Zwayer still. I’ll go pick him up and take him back to my house after you’re moved to your room.” My mom brushes my hair away from my forehead, bending down to place a kiss on my cheek. I’ve never seen her look so worried. It scares me, so I reach out to grab her hand. I need my mother, her comfort.

  When an orderly finally comes down to take me upstairs, my mom gives me a quick hug and kiss goodbye before leaving to pick up Tyler.

  “Evan,” I whisper, “don’t leave.”

  “Never, Azley. Remember what I told you, wild horses.”

  Chapter 17

  Azley

  First day in hospital…

  There’s an IV in the back of my hand. Cold, excruciating pain flows along with the blood they are transfusing into me. It seems my anemia has nothing to do with low iron and everything to do with a low re
d platelet count. Is this supposed to be so painful? My mom asks the nurse if there is anything she can do to ease the pain. We try a warm compress over the IV site, and that may warm my hand, but it does nothing else. The blood in the bag is too cold. She finally decides to switch the IV from my hand to the crook of my arm. Sweet baby Jesus that feels so much better. I don’t think I could handle that pain through the rest of that bag, let alone the second one they have waiting for me.

  Day 2…

  What. The. Fuck! A tiger. There’s a tiger, it lays across the threshold of my adjoining bathroom. A fucking tiger! I swear it is as real as when you see them at the zoo. My heart racing, I promptly pull my covers over my head, peering out through just a slit of linen. He stares back, blinking green eyes, not moving a muscle. Too afraid to move, to reach for the call button for a nurse. How in the hell did a tiger get into my room? I’m dreaming, right? I have to be. The sharp pain in my lungs from gasping at the sight tells me I’m not. Morphine button in hand, I depress it with my thumb. I don’t know if I’m actually getting drugs in my system, but just the thought that it might be possible calms me. Eyes close, sleep comes, the tiger disappears from thought until morning. I don’t tell Evan about it; afraid he would think I am crazy. I don’t think I like tigers anymore.

  Day 3…

  “What did you need, Dear?” The nurse I called for pokes her head around the door.

  “My pee looks weird.”

  “Weird how?” She walks the rest of the way into my room so she stands beside my bed.

  “It’s a peachy color. I don’t understand why it would look like that.” I’ve never heard of anything like that before. I admit, it was just one more thing on my freak out list.

  “I’ll go check it,” she walks to the bathroom to check the contraption they have attached to the toilet to catch and measure my urine output. She comes back after emptying it and flushing the toilet, the expression on her face no different than when she first entered my room. “It’s probably just caused by your medications, it happens. I’ll make a note of it in your chart for the doctor.