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“We’re very well. Thank you, Dr. Williamson. Well enough to go home today.”
“Hmm.” He picked up her clipboard that hung off the end of her bed and flicked over the pages. Back and forth. Back and forth.
“Ready the chocolates,” she hissed to Zane.
He stifled a laugh behind his hand, disguising it as a cough, but his eyes gave him away. Too sparkly.
“I’m pleased with how you’ve responded to the increased dosage of your immunosuppressants, and so is your cardiologist. I spoke to him this morning, and we both agreed that you’re ready to be discharged.”
“Excellent.” Lori threw back the covers and leaped out of bed.
“Whoa, hang on a second.”
“Too late, Doc.” She opened the top drawer and tossed the clothes her mom had fetched yesterday onto the bed. “You said discharged. I’m like a horse out of the traps. Should have kept the prize under wraps until the end.”
“Lori,” Zane groaned. “Give the man five minutes to explain.”
“Fine.” She perched on the end of the bed, her toes resting on the floor.
The doctor smiled and shook his head. “I get it, Miss James. No one wants to be in hospital a moment longer than necessary, especially approaching the holidays. I just want to go over a few things, signs to look for, et cetera. I also have a follow-up appointment booked with your cardiologist for January sixth.” He handed her a card with the date and a time scrawled on it.
“Is that something to be concerned about?” Zane asked.
“Not at all. But given the suddenness of this attack, we’ll want to schedule more regular checkups. At least for a while.”
Terrific. More prodding and poking. Still, if it meant she got to spend Christmas at home with her parents and Zane, it was worth the added inconvenience.
The doctor handed her a sheet of paper with the major symptoms he wanted her to look out for. She knew them all intimately, having had the potential for rejection drummed into her by her doctors back in India.
“But if my meds keep it under control, I’m unlikely to have another episode, yes?”
“We’re hopeful.”
“And if I do?”
“Come straight to the hospital.”
“Can you tweak it again? The dosage, I mean.”
“Yes. Just take it easy for a few days, and you should be able to resume normal activities.”
“Don’t worry, Doc. I’ll make sure she rests up.”
Lori was half dressed before the doctor and his security guards, aka nursing staff, had left the room. She fastened her jeans, pulled her sweater over her head, and stuffed her feet into a pair of black sneakers.
“Right, lover. Let’s go.”
Mom and Dad hovered in the lobby of her building as she and Zane arrived home. The chocolates had taken another beating on the car ride from the hospital, and Lori was feeling decidedly sick. Zane had warned her, but she’d chosen not to listen. Better not to tell him. He’d only hit her with one of his smug grins.
“Hey, Mom, Dad.” Lori hugged them both. “You didn’t have to come over. I’m just going to lounge on the couch and watch TV.”
“We wanted to, darling.” Mom held up a casserole dish as if it was a trophy. “I made a casserole. Saves you cooking.”
“We won’t stay long.” Dad correctly guessed that she’d appreciate a little time on her own. God bless him. He was the absolute bomb.
“Thanks, Dad. I am kind of tired.”
She wasn’t tired. She was buzzed and ready to get on with the rest of her life. For thirteen years, she’d feared this day, panicked that she wouldn’t handle the idea of falling ill again and having to go through the entire punishing experience for a second time. And now the first signs she might have a problem had arrived, it had set a fire beneath her feet. She’d live every day as if it were her last. A cliché, sure, but true nonetheless. And the difference between her and others who used the same phrase to drive them forward was that she wouldn’t let her desire wane.
