| FATES 6 |
| "Can we see him yet?" An anxious Justin paced nervously around the small waiting room of the hospital. Mike flipped absentmindedly through an old People magazine. "No, for the millionth time, now sit!" he barked. Justin flopped down in a tattered leather seat and fidgeted, tapping his feet on the tile floor. He looked around at the dismal emergency room area and sighed. The wallpaper was peeling slightly, and the magazines were outdated. He'd lost almost three dollars in the soda machine before the nurse told him it was out of order, and offered him a juice from the doctor's lounge. He stared down at it, half heartedly. It was still sitting on the little table next to him, unopened. He tried to keep his mind off Lance, off the fact his best friend could be really sick. Knowing Joey was calling Mrs. Bass was making him a little uneasy. First of all, Joey was less than tactful with words, and secondly, it wasn't like Lance to actually agree to have his mom called. That made Justin think that something was really wrong. Frustrated, he stood up again and approached the nurses' station. "Any word on my friend yet?" he asked hopefully. The nurse shook her head. She felt badly for him, poor kid, having been stuck in the waiting room for hours with no word. When she saw the disappointed look on his face, her heart felt for him. She touched his hand. "Let me see what I can find out, hon'." Justin's face cracked a bit of a smile and he nodded thankfully. "Okay," he said, watching as she rose and disappeared behind a "personnel only" door. Minutes later, she reappeared. "You can go in and see him. He's not through yet, but he's alert and sitting up." Justin restrained himself from hugging the motherly woman, but his huge smile said it all. "Thank you so much, really," he gushed. The nurse lead him back the way she had just come, down a long hallway to a curtain area. Justin looked around. The corridors held that hospital smell he hated so much. It always reminded him of death. He shuddered at the thought. The nurse turned left and cleared her throat. "Mr. Bass, you have a visitor." She pulled the curtain back and Justin felt a hard lump form in his throat when he saw his friend. Lance was propped up with several pillows, sipping apple juice through a straw. His left arm was hooked up to an IV, and his chest held several small round circles of tape with wires connected. Lance looked up and flashed a weak smile. Justin choked back a gasp, and tried to smile in return. "Dude, you look..." his voice cracked with the threat of a sob. "I know, I know," Lance chuckled softly. "They just want to monitor me. I'm okay." He looked at the nurse for reassurance. "Any idea when I can get out of here?" She shook her head and grabbed his wrist for a quick pulse check. "Don't know, sweetie, but your friend here was wearing a hole in our floor, he was pacing so much out there." She recorded Lance's stats and glanced at Justin. Squeezing his shoulder, she smiled sweetly. "Feel better now that you know he's okay?" Justin nodded and thanked her again before she left to fetch Mike from the waiting room. He sat down in a plastic chair next to the bed and let out a deep sigh. "So what did they say?" he asked, unsure if he could handle the answer. Lance shrugged, gulping down more juice, and chewing on the small chunks of ice that escaped with it to his mouth. "Not much. I mean they took a ton of blood and are running every test they can think of. It's ridiculous. Then they thought they heard a minor heart murmer, so I got hooked up to that thing." He motioned to the beeping machine next to him, recording his heart rate. Scratching his nose, he slithered down into his bed a bit and closed his exhausted eyes. "Heart murmer, what's that?" Justin pried, eyeing the machine with distaste. Lance smiled, but kept his eyes shut. "Don't get all freaked out and worried on me now. I'm fine. I just want to get the hell out of here. I'm starving." Justin laughed, and Mike entered the curtained room. "They're letting you go," he smiled, watching as Lance's eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice. "They doc just needs to sign off on some papers, and consult with you on your test results, then you're free." Lance pushed himself up again. "Did they tell you what they found?" Mike shook his head. "Nope, but it can't be that bad if they're releasing you." The doctor poked his head in. "All set for me?" he looked at Lance, then at the two others. Mike and Justin exited the area, leaving Lance alone with the doctor. "So, Mr. Bass, we ran a complete battery of tests to check everything from white blood cell counts to iron deficency and there is nothing wrong with you that we can find. You do have a very tiny heart murmer, but that shouldn't cause you any real problems. I would say you should rest, eat correctly, and take it easy for the next few weeks." Lance leaned forward. "But..." "There are no buts," the doctor warned. "I am telling you, if you don't rest, you will have a relapse and it will be ten times worse than this." He jotted down something on paper. "This is for your job, and your instructions. Please, Mr. Bass, take this seriously. This was your body warning you." He eyed him sternly, just for effect, to get his point across. Lance stared helplessly at the papers. Once his IV was unhooked, he slid over to the edge of the bed. The nurse helped him to his feet. Shyly, he held the back of his gown closed. "I'll let you dress," she said, handing his clothes to him. Lance took them gratefully, and thanked her. As he dressed, his cell phone rang. "Hello?" "Honey, Joey just called me. What's going on?" His mother was frantic on the other line. Lance cradled the phone between his neck and shoulder and hopped on one foot, attepting to put his jeans on. He really just wanted to get out of there, and fast. "Mom, can I call you once I'm back in my hotel room? They just signed me out and I want to get out of here." "Lance! Please! What did the doctor say? Do I need to fly out?" He could hear the terror in her voice and felt badly that he scared her so. In his 20 year old mind, he would have loved for her to come out, hold him, make him some warm milk, and sing to him like she did when he was little. But he knew that was out of the question. He tried very hard to detach himself from the phrase "mama's boy" and going back now was not an option. "Mom, they took tests and I'm okay. Just overworked a bit. I need to rest. But please, let me call you from the hotel." Finally, she relented, and hung up. Justin peeked his head in. "Ready?" Lance nodded, scooping up all his paperwork. "Yup, I'm famished. Let's eat!" Mike clapped him on the shoulder. "Kid, you can have anything you want. You name it!" |