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“Let’s sit you down,” he says firmly, guiding me gently back onto the couch. “I’m going to bring you water, and I’ll clean this up right after,” he assures me.
As I close my eyes, trying to steady the whirlpool of sensations, I remind myself that this is probably just food poisoning. I’m not sick otherwise, nor am I taking any medication that could cause this weakness.
But despite my rational thoughts, the anxiety starts to creep in, insidious and overwhelming. It begins to wrap around my thoughts. Each heartbeat is louder than the other. My chest feels tight, each breath shorter than the last. The anxiety grows, threatening to overpower my attempts to stay calm. I feel trapped in its grip, the room still spinning, my thoughts racing with a million what-ifs.
“Calm down, baby,” Gabe says, handing me a glass of water. “It’s probably nothing.”
“Nothing? Well, nothing doesn’t feel good right now,” I mumble.
“If you don’t mind. I’m going to call a few favors in and have a team come to check on you,” he says.
“Favors? Team?” I ask, slightly confused.
“Finn has a team of doctors who make house calls. They can even get the mobile lab here,” he states.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” I say, hoping that it’s not that bad because the thought of going through another tumor frightens me.
“It’s either that or the ER,” he states. “We can’t just ignore this, Ame.”
“I’m fine.”
“Any headaches?”
I close my eyes because, for the past week, I’ve had a few, and I’m trying to ignore them, but it seems like I can’t.
“You’ll be fine,” he assures me.
“But what if I’m not?” The agony in my voice makes me shrink into a little ball.
Gabe squeezes my hand. “Maybe you haven’t heard, but I’m the one of the best at what I do. If this is a repeat, you’ll be totally fine, baby.”
Physically? Probably, but I don’t know if my mind is strong enough to go through this again.
“Cora and Caleb need me,” I mutter. “This can’t be happening to me.”
“We don’t even know what it is,” Gabe says as he cleans the floor. “And maybe we can figure it out before we let our imagination get the best of us.”
“Okay,” I agree.
Once he finishes cleaning, someone is knocking at the door. One of them introduces himself as Dr. Baldwin, while the petite woman is Dr. Drago. She’s a neurologist. They begin by asking me the usual questions.
“Any chance you can be pregnant?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. I had chemo and radiation when I was twenty, so I can’t have children,” I state.
Gabe frowns. “That’s not exactly right.”
“What?”
“The doctors back then didn’t have enough information,” he states.
“And you do?”
He nods. “Your eggs work and . . . are you using any kind of contraceptive?”
“No. I just assumed that it can’t happen.”
Gabe grins. “Is there a test in the mobile lab?” he asks.
