“Just rest here until you feel it take effect. It should help for a while with the increased weakness and dizziness.”
He throws away his gloves. With his back turned, washing his hands, he asks, “The hallucinations you were having… did they go away when the meds seemed to be working?”
Did they?
When I think back, I had begun to remember the pieces of my past I’d lost. The hallucinations faded away…
“They did.” I sit forward slightly.
Turning, he leans back against the sink with his arms crossed. “I suspect it’s a temporary increase in the dying neurons. Each time your body adjusts to the medication changes, you should be prepared for more hallucinatory activity. Before that time, I would suggest alternate living arrangements. You shouldn’t be alone. I can give you information for different hospice options.”
Holding in tears, I nod. There’s no chance I want to hide out and fade away.
I’m not ready. I don’t want to go yet.
Dr. Fraine and his nurse have already left after more precautionary instructions. He’d handed me a file folder full of hospice brochures to read.
I’m holding on to the vestiges of my life.
Not yet. Please, God.
Once they’re gone, I lie staring at the painting initialed by E.B. Housman, remembering my reaction when I first saw it. An all-consuming urge to get up and take the frame off has me on my feet, touching it. Praying for a few seconds’ reprieve, to imagine I’m someone else… somewhere else.
A light knock on the door has me jumping back. Dr. Fraine cracks the door open. “How are you doing? I don’t want to rush you. We can delay the next appointment if need be.”
I have been here forty minutes beyond my normal visit.
“I-I’m alright. I’m ready to go.”
The guard has less patience for me on our way back to the gatehouse, but thankfully the shot of meds has me feeling almost healthy. The only drawback is muscle pain at the injection site.
I see the stone bridge on the path, my mind elsewhere, staring at it. I almost run right into Rett. He grabs my arm, bringing me to a stop. “Whoa, it’s you.”
His friend next to him laughs, “Brilliant, mate. I’ve never heard you have less game.” His British accent is a novelty I want to hear more of.
Rett introduces him as Amadeo, or Deo, one of his housemates and, as evidenced by his green blazer, another Rock Am student. Do they only invite devastatingly attractive people to attend this place?
My face heats as I glance back to see the guard heading our way, a no-nonsense look on his face.
Rett whispers, “Does he belong to you?” A teasing lilt to his voice as he nods at the guard.
I shrug. “Unfortunately, I may be getting arrested for taking too long to leave.”
Both of them laugh. “We’ve got this,” Rett replies.
He pulls some bills from his wallet. “I know you have a job to do, but my friend Bizzy is hanging out with us now. We can just avoid the whole checking back in and so forth, right?”
He hands the wad of cash to the perplexed man.
Rett has a knack for sweet-talking. That, coupled with his fame, makes it easier. The guard waves the cash away. “I can look the other way just this once.”
“Good bloke,” Deo says as I look between the two of them.
Now what?
“We were just heading to JJ’s. Wanna come along?” With a knowing smile, he dips his head. “Course you do. Let’s go.”
I can’t think of a better way to spend the rest of my day. JJ always lifts my spirits. “Do you think he’ll mind?”
