Chapter 46 On the Other Side
The nephrologist Shane set me up with is a woman. Dr. Baldwin is gentle, listens quietly, but is blunt with her responses. She worries over my flank pain, she orders an ultrasound to get an idea of what my kidneys look like and see if any arteries to the organs are blocked. Like Google, she’s a well of scary information about possible anemia and early bone disease, but she also reassures me in a way that online research couldn’t. She tells me she’s had patients younger than me diagnosed with the disease, and that stage three is the largest among the five. Even though I’m already feeling symptoms, most of her patients have lived long lives before they dealt with any of the more serious complications in later stages. She’s going to try to help me live a long life too. The moment the words leave her mouth, a memory of Issac kissing the bridge of my nose comes to mind and I wonder how many of her patients had long-lasting relationships.
“But the hardest part falls on you, Laniah,” she says. “Trying to slow the progression of the disease with lifestyle changes is easier said than done. You’ll have to implement more exercise into your routine, change your diet to take care of your heart health, and make sure you’re not consuming too much salt so that your kidneys don’t have to work as hard. Eating healthy to lose weight is different from eating healthy for the kidneys, so I’d like to refer you to a nutritionist. Do you have any more questions for me?”
Eating pho with Issac, adding extra soy sauce to my dishes, ordering pizza late at night and devouring chicken parm. These are the memories I try to shake away while my new doctor waits patiently. “Actually, yeah…Um, I make these natural hair products and they have horsetail root in them, and I was wondering…are they still safe for me to use?”
Dr. Baldwin smiles and places the cap on her pen. “I think using them in moderation in a hair product should be fine, but I’d suggest staying away from herbal supplements or high doses of it to keep it from affecting your potassium levels.”
I hope she can’t see my eyes glistening. “Okay. I’m sorry if it was silly.”
“No question is silly. I’m here to answer to the best of my ability. Feel free to message me through the online portal if something comes up and you don’t feel comfortable calling.”
The sigh comes from my heart. I feel better with a plan in place, and as much as it hurts to officially hear the news from her mouth, there’s solace and relief in knowing the past few months of being in pain weren’t in my imagination. That there’s someone who will listen now.
“Thank you so much,” I say. “For all of this. Especially seeing me on short notice.”
“I’m sorry for what happened to you,” Dr. Baldwin says, and I can tell by the frustrated look on her face that she wishes she could say more about my former doctor. Everyone is furious. Mom and Katrina are insisting I file a medical malpractice against Dr. Rotondo, but Shane said they’re hard and taxing to win. I’m not sure why Dr. Rotondo kept this from me, and maybe I’ll never know. He deserves a suit against him, and it might be the right move for someone else, but I’m too tired to fight in court. I just want to do everything I can to try to prolong the need for dialysis or a potential transplant for as long as possible. Maybe I’ll change my mind down the line.
“It’s alright,” I say to Dr. Baldwin.
She shakes her head. “No, it’s not. But I’m going to do my best to make sure you’re getting the care you need. I’ll be sure to check in with your new primary care doctor once you’re in her system. I’ve heard great things about her practice. You’ll have a team now. Okay?”
I cry right there in her office. And she lets me without a word.
For too many days at the shop, everyone was walking on eggshells around me, including little Destiny, who hardly had a clue what was happening. Lex was ruder than ever to paparazzi. I had to remind him to be careful about what he said to them because they’d be out for blood with any hint that something is off between me and Issac. If Mom wasn’t hiding her tears, she was distracted between customers, squinting at her phone to look up kidney-friendly recipes she could make me. This was all before I put the be back in 20 sign on the window last week and played Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance with Somebody,” pulling my family around me and telling them to shake their blues away. Destiny called me corny, but she smiled when I spun her around. It took a while, but soon we were all letting our limbs move like wildflowers.
Since then, the deadweight has lifted from around the shop, and, each day, I’ve made it a point to remind myself that I’m still alive. To live like it.
But after Dr. Baldwin sends me for more blood work, I let myself have a bad day. She ordered me a twenty-four-hour urine sample, and with each collection, I allow myself room to feel fear and sadness over what the results might show. I cry into my pillow, on my porch, in the shower. I let myself wish Issac was here telling me bad jokes, hogging the covers, offering a chest to lie on with a steady heartbeat to soothe me.
When the doorbell rings, I want to ignore it, but the person is insistent. I drag myself off the couch, make sure my face isn’t wet, and answer the door. It’s Katrina with a bag in her hand and a smile on her face. “I might not be who you need right now, but, honey, I’m gonna try my best,” she says.
I choke on my tears and throw myself into her arms.
Last week, I told her everything. About my kidneys and about Issac too. She was offended that I didn’t trust her enough to tell her about faking a relationship with Issac before then. She told me how mad she was that she couldn’t hold her hurt feelings for long because of my other life-changing news. I told her I was counting on it, and then we hugged it out.
She lies on the opposite side of the couch while we rewatch feel-good movies like Never Been Kissed and She’s All That. She tells me about gossip in her new office, how respected she feels there, about the cuties without rings on their fingers, and how her old boss sent her an email begging her to come back. We play card games till she’s sick of me beating her at spades. And each time I have to get up to pee, she stands outside the bathroom door to tell me a joke because it’s what Issac would’ve done. I realize how much of a difference it makes having someone to laugh with when the sad things are trying to keep me under.
At the end of the night, Issac texts me for the first time in weeks. Maybe he could sense me smiling, or maybe he knew how much I needed to hear from him.
“Or maybe I’m good luck,” Katrina says while getting her stuff ready to head home.
I throw a pillow at her, but say, “Yeah, probably.”
Hi, you, Issac says. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. I don’t really want to talk about it, what happened with us, unless we really have to…I’m sure we might have to in the future, but for now, I’m hoping we can ease back into some normalcy starting with these messages, and maybe we can FaceTime in a few days? I miss my best friend. And we should talk about the fake breakup too. Bernie’s kept the media from wondering if something is wrong, but if they don’t see us together soon ridiculous rumors will ensue. And I want to stir the narrative before they start. I know I should’ve done it already. But…silly heart stuff.
My chest grows heavy. Issac spent these weeks hoping I’d change my mind. And I’ve spent these weeks wishing I could. Your heart is far from silly, I reply.
He starts to type, stops, then starts again. Finally, Talk to you soon, Ni.
Katrina sits on my coffee table. “From the look on your face, I can’t tell if you’re feeling happy or sad.”
“Both. One more than the other, but I don’t want to talk about it right now.”
She nods. “Thank you for letting me be here with you tonight.”
“Thank you for being hard to ignore,” I tease with a smile. “You showed up and shined your bright light in my face, and now I have no choice but to glow too.”
Her laugh is loud and obnoxious, but then she says, “You should let Issac be here. Promise me you’ll fix this with him soon?”
I blow out a big breath. The anxiety of knowing how heartbroken Issac will be if he finds out how long I’ve been keeping this from him makes me want to postpone the hurt feelings by keeping it from him even longer. But that’s not fair for him, and I’m ready for him to be here for me too. So I promise: “I’ll tell him about the kidney disease when we talk in a few days.”
“That’s a start,” Katrina says.
While I watch her walk to her car from my front door, I notice Bridget’s small red Mercedes-Benz parked across the street. For a second, I wonder if she came to demand a visit from me too, but then I glance up at Wilma’s house and see the kitchen light on. Two estranged sisters sitting at a table, sharing a meal with the window open.
A warm feeling passes over my heart.
I smile and shut my door, feeling hopeful about telling Issac for the first time in a while.