"It means that even though you're breathing now, water in your lungs can cause inflammation and fluid buildup hours or even days later," the doctor explained gently. "It's rare, but given how long you were submerged and the amount of seawater you inhaled, we need to be cautious."
My mind was racing and panic rose in my chest. I can't spend twenty fucking hours in a hospital where people don't know my medical history and what I'm allergic to. Furthermore, this hospital is way out of my network and I'll have to pay more towards an out of pocket cost than I ever have.
"I can't stay," I said while trying to sit up. "I need to leave?—"
"Nyne." Syx's voice cut through my panic. He'd entered the room with stress wearing down his handsome face. "You ain't goin' nowhere!"
"You don't understand," I uttered, my voice breaking. "This is going to cost way more than it needs to. My out of network costs will be through the roof and they don't have my medicalhistory here! They don't know me!" I rambled on and on as I tossed the sheets back.
"I'll take care of it," Syx said firmly.
"No." I shook my head with tears springing to my eyes. "No you can't Syx. I can't let you pay for this. I can't?—"
"Nyne, you need to calm down," the doctor retorted, with her hand on my wrist. "Your heart rate is too high and you're putting unnecessary stress on your body."
"I'm leaving," I spoke, my voice rising. "This is my final decision. I'm leaving. I'll sign whatever waiver you need me to sign, but I'm not staying here and racking up medical bills."
"You ain't goin' no fuckin' where!" Syx's voice roared through the room.
His voice was hard, cold, and absolutely unmovable. I looked up at him and saw something in his eyes that made my breath catch. It wasn't anger, exactly, but something fierce and protective and completely unyielding.
"Even if I have to tie you to my hands," he continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "you ain't going nowhere. You understand me?"
"Syx, I can't let you?—"
"I don't give a fuck what you think you can or can't let me do Nyne," he said, and there was steel in his voice now. "You almost died. You almost fucking died because of me, because I gave you an ultimatum that made you feel like you had to run. So no, you don't get to leave. You don't get to refuse medical care because of bullshit. I'll pay for every goddamn test they want to run, every hour you stay here and every medication they give you and you gon' let me."
"I can't be a burden," I retorted and my voice cracked on the last word.
"You ain't a burden man," Syx muttered, and his hand moved to cup my face, gently stroking my cheekbone with his thumb."Let me take care of you now. All that other shit we talked about don't matter right now. You need some rest."
The doctor cleared her throat. "I'm going to give you two a moment," she spoke up. "But Ms. Nyne, I need you to understand that leaving against medical advice right now could be life-threatening. We need to monitor your oxygen levels, check for fluid in your lungs, and make sure your core temperature stabilizes. If you develop pneumonia or secondary drowning at home, you could die before you even realize something's wrong."
I felt tears streaming down my face. "I don't know."
"You don't have to," Syx uttered. "The only thing you need to know is that I'm taking care of it and before you argue with me again, let me be very fucking clear; I have more money than I know what to do wit' it. This facility? I own it. The doctors? I pay their salaries. The equipment? I bought it. These are resources that will get put to use for your cause. So shut the fuck up wit' all that bullshit."
I stared at him for a second, struggling to process what he was saying. Though I wanted to argue and tell him this was all too much, the truth was, I was exhausted. My chest was heavy and tight. The thought of trying to navigate home, dealing with the root of my actions, was all too much.
"I hear you," I mumbled with a slow eye roll.
"Let these people do what the fuck I pay them to do," he demanded.
The nurse came in with a wheelchair, slightly peeking her head inside the room with an uneasy expression riddled on her face, like she was interrupting something. "Um, we're ready for X-ray," she spoke nervously.
Syx stepped back reluctantly, his hand trailing down my arm, over the chill bumps barely touching my skin. "I'll be here when you get back. I ain't going nowhere."
I nodded, giving him a somber smile, because I was too tired to speak and my emotions were rambling all over the place. They transferred me to the wheelchair, treating me like I was handicapped, then wheeled me toward the X-ray room. Syx was standing in the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest, his face drawn and worried. When I glanced over my shoulder, he gave me a small nod, reassuring me with his lips, barely audible that everything would be okay.
For the remainder, the tests were coming back with good results and nothing alerted them, which was fine for the most part. But they wanted to keep me a little longer just to run the tests again, to be sure they weren't overlooking anything. Honestly, while I appreciated the TLC, I didn't like being stuck more than a few times and the back and forth, but I knew they'd never hear the end of it if I returned to the states sicker than what they led on. Also, I would bet that Syx would probably fire them if he hadn't already threatened to do so.
Speaking of, he was such a gentleman during all of this. He fetched me food and even purchased me clothes—more pajamas and undies to be exact—because I hadn't felt the need to overpack. Most of my luggage consisted of appropriate beach wear and sandals.
I was already missing home and I'm sure my family was worried sick by now because I hadn't updated them. Knowing my momma, she changed the location on the weather app to be updated and she was probably a nervous wreck when she saw there was a storm in the forecast. I wasn't due to be home for a few days, and Syx hadn't mentioned staying longer past my time due to this hiccup, but I wouldn't mention it, since I'd already decided I was leaving after this.
The entire staff, down to the janitors, had been very nice and accommodating. I made a snide comment about the roombeing small and they moved me to a bigger one which was more upscale and cold.
I'd already woken up from my second nap for the day and Syx was leaning back in a chair next to my bed with his mouth gaped open, snoring. He hadn't left my sight the entire time and though I'd protest, he hadn't flinched. The only time he left was to pee or go change clothes in the restroom. When he got my luggage, he grabbed a few things we both needed, like toiletries and hygiene products separately since most of these products couldn't be purchased at some rinky dinky corner store like my Sensodyne toothpaste and my Biotène mouthwash, along with my tongue scraper.
