“Good morning, Vince,” the doctor says, her tone light. “I’m here to check your vitals and see how you’re doing. Did you get any rest?”
“A few hours, maybe.”
“Good. I know it can be difficult, with nurses checking on you every hour.”
My stomach knots, waiting for whatever she’s about to say. My hands shake as I try to sit up a little straighter.
The doctor presses her lips together as she reads something on the screen. “I’ve already contacted your primary doctor, and they’re going to forward your lab results to your MS specialist too, as soon as we have them. Since this could relate to your illness, I’m requesting they schedule an MRI appointment before your visit with Dr. Benson. That way, when you see him, he can go over the results sooner.”
My heart skips a beat. MRI? Is this going to be a regular thing now?
“What will that show him?” Fletcher asks, since I seemed to have lost my voice.
“The MRI will tell us whether there’s any new inflammation in the nervous system—especially in the brain or spinal cord. That could explain what happened yesterday.”
“You said it was dehydration,” I cut in.
“And that’s still true. You were severely dehydrated when you came in, which weakened you. But it can also be a mix of things, so we’re turning over every stone, so to speak. If there are new lesions, it could have caused the fall just as easily.” She smiles encouragingly. “Your neurologist will tell you if this represents an MS flare and if you need to change your treatment plan.”
“I don’t have one yet,” I say. “I haven’t even seen the specialist. They diagnosed me in September, so I’ve been waiting.”
“Ah, yes. Forgive me, I’m getting ahead of myself. But you’re on the right path.”
Her voice fades in my head, pieces slipping through my scattered thoughts. Every symptom feels like a five-pound weight in my stomach. Loss of vision, balance issues—pieces of myself slipping away.Fuck. Is this really what my life is going to be now? A gradual decay of simple function?
Fear and anxiety knot in my throat, making me unable to speak. To breathe. To think. I fist the blanket, drawing in a slow breath.
Fletcher curls both of his hands around mine, holding tight. I want to pull away, but it’s the only thing keeping me grounded. I pull him closer.
The doctor continues. “Multiple sclerosis can be unpredictable. Sometimes symptoms come and go without leaving lasting changes. Other times, they signal something new. The MRI helps us see the difference, which is why it’s important to get frequent scans, especially in the beginning.”
My mind spins. How do I plan a life that might keep changing?
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” she says softly, giving an approving nod toward Fletcher. “But it helps to have someone else noticing changes too. If you see anything new, write it down.”
Fletcher seems unbothered by the misunderstanding that we’re a couple. I mean, he’s holding my hand. What else is the doctor going to think? Yet guilt tugs at my heart. Who am I to drag him into this? Weigh him down by my helplessness? It’s too much. He doesn’t deserve that. He has a job, a kid. He doesn’t need to be here.
Even so, I can’t pull my hand away. I don’t want to.
The warmth of his skin is the only thing I can focus on as the doctor takes my temperature and finishes her exam.
“Is there any chance this’ll get me in to see the MS doctor sooner?” I say when I finally find my voice.
She gives an empathetic smile. “Afraid not. It doesn’t work like that. What’s important is that you’re doing better today, thanks to the fluids and rest, so that’s a good sign that it may not have been a flare at all. Like I said, we’re just looking at all possibilities here. So don’t panic, okay? We’ll get you answers. Have you eaten yet today?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay. We’ll get you some breakfast soon.”
“Actually, I brought him something,” Fletcher says, a little sheepishly. He gestures to the brown bag on top of the pile of things he dragged in.
“Ah, perfect. I’ll get out of your way so you can enjoy that then. Do either of you have questions?”
“You mentioned fluid and diet. Is that important for someone with MS?” Fletcher asks.
“Not specifically. It’s common, though, for someone with an illness like MS to forget to take care of themselves. The symptoms can be… overwhelming, sometimes, which meanseven eating can feel like a chore. That puts them at higher risk for dehydration and other things.”
Fletcher looks at me, nodding, like he’s seen the struggle.
