He wouldn’t, would he?
I look over at Oakley, who cringes. Shit. Apparently, he would.
“I’m not sitting here all fucking day,” I say as I sit back in the car.
“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to take a backseat because my department is in charge, and you are too close to this whole situation. We’ve got it handled, but if you go barging in there, everything will be for nothing.” His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, and I know he’s serious.
I sit in silence for the next ten minutes before I’m on the verge of breaking again. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I panic to get it out in case it’s Rina.
When I’m finally able to get it out of my damn pocket, it’s not Rina, but my doctor, Dr. Vincent.
I forgot I was supposed to be expecting a call from him. He wanted to do another scan after my last injection because I have had a constant twinge in one spot. I didn’t think much of it, but he wanted to be overly cautious.
“Hey, Doc,” I answer, hoping talking to him for five minutes will be just the distraction I need.
“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Brian?”
“Apparently one more,” I joke.
“I’m calling because we got results back from your latest CT scan, and I have some concerns.”
“What concerns? I’ve been feeling great overall.” I’m confused. Everything has been going well, and I’ve been feeling like a brand-new man. One twinge shouldn’t be cause for concern, right?
“Of that, I have no doubt. While I’m still seeing increased healing, it looks like the damage is more extensive than I originally thought. It was hard to tell initially because of all the swelling, but now that a lot of that is down, I’m not sure the injections are going to be the only treatment needed.”
No, this was supposed to be the end of it.
“So, what are you saying?” I can feel Oakley’s eyes on me, and I know he’s hearing a good chunk of this conversation.
“I’d like to get you into some physical therapy and see if we can work on spinal traction, and your overall back and core strength. If, in a few months, doing that doesn’t show significant improvement, we may have to extend your fusions.”
“More surgery?” I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.
“Nothing definite yet. I just want to prepare you in case the physical therapy is less effective than I hope it will be.”
“Fuck.”
“I know it’s not what you were hoping for, and I am happy with what the injections have done so far. This disease can be unpredictable, and I just want to make sure you’re ready to roll with the punches as we continue treatment.”
“Thank you for that.”
“I’m going to email you a couple of therapists I usually work with. Go ahead and schedule with one of them, and we’ll continue injections while you’re doing that.”
“I can do that.” As long as Rina doesn’t put me in an early grave first.
“I’ll touch base with you later. Sorry for the downer news.”
“No problem. Thanks, Brian.” I hang up and stare out the window. That certainly wasn’t the news I was expecting when dealing with my back. Especially because things have been going so well so far.
The click of the radio check-ins makes my nerves want to explode. Too much is happening right now, and I don’t feel like I’m capable of dealing with any of it.
“You okay?” Oakley’s soft voice penetrates my overactive thoughts.
“No.” I sigh. “But I will be, eventually. One thing at a time.”
He nods, not pushing, and I’m grateful. An unscheduled radio check-in interrupts anything further we were going to say.
“We’ve got a problem. They’re in the main bedroom, and he’s getting handsy and pushy. It looks like he took Rina’s phone, but she fought him over it.”
