When morning came, Brian, AJ and Aaron came back up to the hospital as planned, however instead of finding Nick in good spirits, they found their band brother laying in his bed, his face flushed and tear stained. Brian felt his heart drop to his stomach.
AJ approached the side of the hospital bed, placing a hand lightly on Nick's shoulder. "I thought you'd be sitting up wondering where we were." Brian gave the rebel a disapproving look, which AJ promptly ignored. "We even bought you a track suit, it's pretty jazzy," he continued holding a white department store bag up.
"Have you seen the doctor yet?" Brian jumped in, trying to get AJ to stop talking.
Nick nodded, wiping the tears off his cheeks. "Yeah." The room fell silent for a moment as they waited for him to continue. "Just plan on going back without me," he mumbled.
"Aww Nick, why?" Aaron asked, disappointment evident in his voice.
Nick shook his head. "I-I just can't get any breaks." He paused for a moment, gritting his teeth. "I'm sick of being like this!"
"Things will get better," Brian soothed.
Nick rolled his eyes. "Yeah....I'm waiting for that to happen. Because of this stupid rash on my chest, Dr. Griffin wants to keep an eye on this.”
“For a rash?” Aaron moaned.
“She said she didn’t think it was GVHD but she wants to make sure it doesn’t spread I guess.”
“What’s GVHD? Speak English,” AJ rasped.
”Graft versus host disease,” Nick explained and then realized he had to explain further when he saw the blank looks on their faces. “That’s what they call it when your body rejects the transplanted marrow. Don't worry it’s not that AC," Nick quickly said, "its just all the new meds they have me on. I guess my body sucks so much now it’s fighting the new crap they’re throwing at me.” He rubbed his face, sighing before he continued. “I’m sorry they made you come down here for nothing Bri.”
Brian stepped up to the side of the bed, rubbing his best friend’s arm. “Nick, don’t apologize for something you couldn’t help. Besides, I had a good excuse to come and see my best friend.”
Nick swallowed hard as he looked up at Brian. “I took time away from your family again---“
“Would you stop it? How many times do I have to tell you that everything is okay? Do I have to smack you up the side of the head to prove my point?” Brian winked.
“Hey are you beating up on my patient?”
Brian jerked when he heard the nurse as she entered the room.
“Um….no, I-I was just kidding around,” he stammered.
“Relax Brian, she was joking - I doubt she would think you’d beat me up,” Nick assured. He eyed the IV bag that the nurse laid on the bed stand. “What’s that stuff? I thought you guys were taking me off this today,” he asked as he fingered the IV tubing attached to his chest.
The nurse snapped a pair of surgical gloves on her hands. “Doctor had planned on it but since you decided to start up with that rash, there has been a change of plans.”
Nick sighed as he closed his eyes.
“What is she giving him?” Brian asked.
“Prednisone…hopefully it will kick the rash.”
“How long does he have to be on an IV for that?” AJ wondered as he watched the nurse hook the fresh bag into the port.
“Usually we have this going for about four days---“
“Four days?!” Nick cried.
“Hold on Nick, I don’t think she plans on having you tethered here for four more days," the nurse replied, stopping as she threaded the line into the IVAC. "After I finish up with this I’ll go check your chart and see how long we have to have this going. I suppose you’ve been on Prednisone before?”
Nick shook his head. “Don’t have a clue.”
“Should I tell you the side effects?”
Nick let out a sarcastic laugh. “I seriously doubt that any side effect couldn't be worse than what I’ve already had up to this point don’t you think?”
“He has you there,” Aaron agreed quietly.
AJ swatted the younger Carter on the shoulder. “Air, that wasn’t nice to agree with.”
Aaron shrugged his shoulders. “Well it’s true.”
Nick’s requests to be discharged were ignored and he found himself hooked up to the IV for the four days that the nurse had mentioned when she started the Prednisone.
Four days plus two extra!
Dr. Griffin smiled as he entered his patient’s room. “Good morning Nick. How are you feeling today?”
Nick looked at the doctor warily; this question had become so common to him that there were some days he could play a game and reply with an unexpected answer. At least with Dr. Andersen and some of his nurses he could, but Dr. Griffin was too serious.
“I doubt it would matter,” he replied with a sullen look.
The doctor shook his head. “Now Nick, do you think I enjoy keeping you in here?”
Nick shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno, it seems like it I guess.”
Dr. Griffin set the metal chart on the bed stand. “For a BMT patient, I would rather they be discharged to home and get away from the germs of the hospital. Your body had something else in mind….my hands may be a little cold, sorry,” the doctor said as he reached up to feel the glands on Nick’s neck.
Nick quietly endured the poking and prodding that was a daily routine, answering questions when the doctor asked. Sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, the doctor sighed as he flipped open the chart, scribbling notes onto a blank page.
“I’m going to add oral Prednisone with your meds, you’ll be taking twelve a day to start and slowly you’ll be tapering down…”
Two years ago if someone had told him he’d have to choke down twelve pills daily, Nick would have panicked, instead the doctor’s comment was met with a grimace.
“So does this mean you’ll d/c this?” Nick asked as he tugged at the IV line.
“Not only that, how about I write up your discharge papers?”
Nick grinned. “That would be sweet!”
“I think you’re ready to go home, sleep in your own bed..”
Nick stopped listening to the doctor after the first few words. He was going to be able to go home! Sleep in his own bed… eat in his own kitchen…have some privacy without having strangers come into his room day and night!
“I’ll have the nurse get the hospice orders filled…”
That caught Nick’s attention.
Hospice?!? That was for people that were dying! He wasn’t dying…at least he thought he wasn’t.
“H-hospice?” he stuttered as tears sprung into his eyes. “Why?”
“You have to get labs drawn every other day, a gazillion other tests and such,” Dr. Griffin said. “It would be easier on you to have someone come to your house than have to come into the hospital all the time.” The doctor paused as he looked down at his young patient.
“I’m going to be okay, right?”
It wasn’t until Nick spoke, did the doctor notice his patient’s demeanor. He placed a comforting hand on Nick’s leg.
“That’s what were hoping.”
