“And the steroids, noticing any side effects?”
“Some moodiness, but that’s nothing new for me,” I joke dryly.
Doc forces a strained chuckle then continues. “The tests confirm Dr. Caruso’s diagnosis. You’re dealing with Autoimmune Inner Ear Disease.”
I swallow hard, feeling like I’ve been sucker-punched. Caruso, with his lousy bedside manner, wasn’t supposed to be right. The guy is everything I can’t stand in a doctor.
But this doctor, he’s supposed to be the top of the line, the guru of ear health. If anyone’s going to pull me through this, it’s him.
“So what’s the game plan? Is there some kind of surgery that can fix this?”
“There’s no surgical fix, I’m afraid. We’ll keep going with the steroids, keep an eye on the inflammation, and then see where we stand. If we need to, we might consider Immunosuppressive Therapy.” He clears his throat. “Connor, it has gotten worse since Dr. Caruso ran his tests. More aggressive than we would like.”
Fuck.
“Is there a chance I’ll end up completely deaf?” I ask straight up.
“There’s a possibility, yes. But complete deafness in both ears isn’t typical for most folks with AIED. With the right treatment—meds, hearing aids, implants if we need to go that route—many of my patients lead rich, fulfilling lives.”
My jaw tightens. “Why now when I’m as disciplined as a damn Spartan warrior? Is it because I didn’t take care of myself in my twenties? My diet’s clean now, my workout routine’s solid. Sure, sometimes I indulge in a few too many drinks but overall, I’m pretty regimented.”
“Autoimmune diseases are complex. They could be kicked off by infections, environmental factors. Without a full family medical history, it’s hard to say if you were more at risk for AIED. Stress, though—we’ve long suspected it aggravates autoimmune conditions. And the latest research backs that up, showing how chronic stress really can fan the flames.”
“So, what’s my move? What do I do now?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Lower those stress levels. I get it, easier said than done, especially for someone in your position. But Connor, you’ve got the means. You’re a billionaire. Take a year off. Hit the brakes, travel, find something that chills you out.”
I shake my head, almost laughing at the suggestion. “Taking a year off isn’t in the cards for me.”
“Okay, let’s talk about what’s realistic for you to start. What activities help you de-stress? When was the last time you felt truly at ease?” he presses on.
I have to think for a moment, but damn if the answer doesn’t hit me fast.
The night I fucked Lexi.
It was like everything else just evaporated, and we were left in this intense, raw bubble. We stripped life down to its bare essentials—heat, touch, focusing solely on making each other feel incredible.
Lexi is apparently my answer to “de-stressing” these days. Maybe the tough-talking, car-stealing, spirited angel was sent for me, crashing into my life right there in my hotel bathroom.
I almost give a rough laugh at the realization, and Doc arches a brow, smiling and clearly waiting for me to dish on my magical peace-inducing secret.
But where does that leave me? Lexi doesn’t seem like she’s in the market for just a brief fling. And I’m not going to fill her head with lies and false expectations just to get close.
“Stress less” is a damn hard task to execute. Deceptively hard.
If the business plan for the year demands we open a new hotel in the frozen wilderness of Alaska, the deserts of Nevada, or the heart of Detroit, I’ve got it mapped out. I can execute. But this so-called small ask to ‘reduce your stress levels’? It’s ironically stressful.
I feel fucking blindsided. Whiplashed. Like the reliable ground I’ve always walked on has suddenly turned into quicksand.
I’m leashed to meds that could fail, and I could still lose my hearing. Yeah, reassuring.
Could get worse fast, or not much at all. Maybe it’ll hit me when I’m an old man, or maybe it’ll sneak up on me sooner.
Anything could happen and I’m simply along for the chaotic ride with no control.
I can’t stand the uncertainty, the endless what-ifs that hang in the air. I need to know what’s going to happen. I can’t function in a silent world.
How do I run a boardroom if I can’t pick up on the cues, the tension?
