Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
NASH
I had to fight the urge to tap my foot as I sat in the waiting room of the neurologist’s office. My years in the Army had certainly taught me patience, and restlessness wasn’t something I usually struggled with, but right now, Forest was getting his diagnosis, and I was…worried.
Strike that. I was terrified.
Never one to assume the worst, I now had the hardest time ignoring all the doom scenarios playing through my head. The doctor doesn’t think it’s terminal, Forest had said. Those words had been a relief and a six-word horror story in themselves.
Google had brought me nothing but worst-case scenarios, but I hadn’t been able to stop myself from reading through all of them, wanting to be prepared. But good god in heaven, there were so many horrific possibilities, and after a few minutes, I’d forced myself to stop reading.
“Nash Brockway?”
My head jerked up. Why was the nurse or assistant or whatever she was calling me? “Yes?”
She walked over, and I rose to my feet. “You’re here with Forest Middleton, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am. Is he okay?”
Her gaze softened. “He has requested your presence.”
My heart skipped a beat, but I stayed calm. “Okay.”
I followed her into a hallway, where she gently knocked on a door, then opened it and gestured for me to go in. She softly closed it again behind me.
Forest was sitting on a chair, looking up when I entered.
He looked pale, and even from a distance, I could tell his hands were shaking.
My whole heart went out to him, and as soon as I sat down, I reached for his hand.
He blew out a breath and laced our fingers together, and I squeezed his hand. “I’m here,” I said simply.
“Forest has given me permission to share his diagnosis with you,” a male voice said.
I looked up, straight into the face of the neurologist, who I hadn’t even noticed before. No time for pleasantries now. I needed to know what we were dealing with here. “How bad is it?”
“Right now, all the signs are pointing to FND…” I blinked, and the doctor smiled. “Functional Neurological Disorder. Don’t worry, it’s not something most people have heard of. If my diagnosis is correct, Forest is my first patient with it.”
“Is that a bad thing? I mean, you know how to treat this, right?” I knew I sounded a little sharp, but if the doctor had barely heard of it, how was he supposed to fix anything?
“I have a colleague in Boston who’s been specializing in this for a while. I gave him a call when I started tracking all of Forest’s symptoms.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “So this isn’t even an official diagnosis?”
“It’s as official as I’m able to give right now.
” He folded his arms. “There’s not one test we can run on him that’ll confirm it.
It’s all a process of elimination. We were able to rule out MS, ALS, Muscular Dystrophy, and Dystonia.
” He said like he was checking things off a list, but each of those illnesses held a world of pain.
“I feel like we’re on the right track, and honestly, the best thing we can do for him is get control of his symptoms.”
“Okay, so what’s the plan? I mean, everything he’s been dealing with, like the seizures, the thing with his arms and legs, is that going to get better?”
“There’s not a cure,” the doctor replied, and I swallowed thickly, fighting to keep my composure. No need to let Forest see how hard the news was hitting me. “It’s mostly about symptom management so he can improve the quality of his life. And to avoid any complications.”
Because, of course, there would be complications.
The doctor sat down on his rolling stool and rested his forearms across his thighs, looking at Forest almost like he was waiting for more permission.
After a beat, Forest shrugged, and the doctor’s gaze moved back to me.
“I know all of this sounds pretty terrifying, but the good news is, the prognosis isn’t terminal.
It will affect his quality of life, but we can manage that, and his life expectancy hasn’t changed. ”
“So treatment…”
“There are some. Not a lot,” he added, and he looked regretful. “It could get worse. The way his symptoms have been progressing tells me that right now it’s pretty out of control, and stress tends to make everything flare up.”
Forest let out a watery laugh. “If that was a switch I could turn off—”
“I know,” the doctor said softly. “But if we can start you on a few medications to help reduce your symptoms, your stress levels should start going down.”
Oh god. A severe chronic illness. This would have so many ramifications for Forest. “Okay.” I blew out a breath. “So where do we start?”
The doctor smiled thinly. “Forest indicated that he’s unable to process new information right now. One of the symptoms of FND is brain fog, which he seems to struggle with, so he asked if we could bring you in. I understand you’re his…friend?”
“Yes. He lives with me.”
“Does he have a broader support system?”
He would if he told Creek and the others, of that, I had no doubt.
They would all be there for him. He was all of our little brother…
though maybe brother wasn’t the right word for how I saw him, considering I’d had some distinctly unbrotherly dreams about him.
“He only moved here recently, so he doesn’t know many people yet. ”
It was as close to the truth as I could make it without sharing things I wasn’t sure Forest wanted the doctor to know.
“I’m asking because the first few months are going to be rough as we figure out what medications will work best for him.
There may be side effects, more tests, and physical therapy to help him learn to compensate for his muscle weakness.
I also highly recommend setting him up with a mental health professional to help him process this new reality. He’ll need others to lean on.”
“I’ll be there for him.” Easiest decision ever. Like I would ever say no to that.
“Do you have a job that allows you some flexibility?”
I hesitated. “I’m an EMT, but I have a great relationship with my chief. If I explain the situation, I’m sure we can work out a way to get me that flexibility.”
Worst-case scenario, I’d quit my job. I loved what I did, don’t get me wrong, but thanks to an inheritance from my grandparents—which included the house we lived in—and the monthly Army pension I had, I had a healthy nest egg that would sustain me for a while.
“I’m very glad to hear that. I want to start him on some medications for the dizziness and the muscle weakness, two of the major symptoms he’s experiencing.”
He rattled off some medication names and dosages.
“And for the seizures? Are there anti-epileptic meds he could take?”
The doctor shook his head. “It’s not an epileptic seizure, so those wouldn’t work.
In fact, they could make it worse. If his seizures become worse, we’ll consider that, but I don’t want to start him on too much at the same time.
All of these meds have potential side effects, and starting too many makes it hard to determine which med is causing issues. ”
“Okay.”
The doctor rose. “Why don’t you take some time to process? When you’re ready, you can head out to the reception, where they will give you all the information you need to schedule the next appointment, as well as contact information for physical therapists.”
“Does he need a specialized therapist? Because I know someone who’s a physical therapist, and I’d love for him to work with Forest.”
I’d heard great things from Creek and Heath about Kent, their physical therapist.
“No.” Forest sounded firm. “I don’t want to work with Kent. Creek is still seeing him, and I don’t want him to know.”
“I’ll give you two some privacy,” the doctor said, then walked out before I could thank him.
“Why don’t you want to tell him?” I tried to keep my voice gentle, but I was genuinely baffled. “You’ll need his support.”
Forest’s jaw set in that stubborn way that made him look so much like his brother. “I don’t want to tell him. Not right away. Down the line, yes, when I have processed it myself. But you know he’s gonna jump into mother-hen mode and micromanage every aspect of my life.”
As much as I wanted to deny that, he wasn’t wrong. Creek, even with the best intentions, could be overbearing, especially when it concerned people he loved. And he deeply loved his little brother. I had no doubt about that. “Maybe if you are very clear to him about what you need…”
Forest put his hands on his hips. “He’ll insist I move in with them. He’ll feel it’s his job to look after me, if for no other reason than a misplaced sense of guilt because he hasn’t been there for me as much as he’s wanted to. You try telling him otherwise. You try saying no to him. I dare you.”
At the mention of Forest moving out, something inside me shifted.
Hell no, he wasn’t. He needed me. And maybe I needed him too, though that wasn’t something I wanted to spend too much time thinking about.
“Kent won’t tell Creek if you ask him not to.
He’s not a doctor, but he’ll keep that confidentially anyway.
But we’ll revisit this later. It’s not the most important thing right now. ”
At that, his shoulders slumped, as if all the fight had left him, and his eyes grew misty again. “I have a neurological disorder.”
His voice was wavering, cracking. “I know, honey. We’ll figure it out.”
“But at least I have a label now, and it’s not the worst diagnosis.”
I admired him for seeing the positive in the midst of all of this. “Agreed. It could’ve been something a lot worse…but that doesn’t mean this isn’t a tough reality you’re confronted with.”
And then I was hugging him, and we stood there for a long time.
When we got home, I ushered Forest into his bedroom—now on the first floor—for a nap. Three hours later, he appeared, looking adorably frumpy with his hair sticking up in every direction and pillow creases on his face.
“Did you get some sleep?” I asked, smiling at the cuteness of him.