36. Georgie #2
"Actually, I think he was just leaving," I say to her while looking pointed at his gaping mouth.
He tries to say something, but he stops himself, stands and rubs the back of his neck, waiting to be dismissed by Dr. Boseman no doubt.
I clear my throat, put a smile on my face, and say to her, "If you don't mind, I've requested no residents for this visit.
It should be in my chart that was sent over? "
"Oh, yes. I see that here. Dr. Delvi, perhaps you should take a break.
" She says as a way of dismissal, then she shuts the door behind her without another thought.
Then she turns to me, the genuine smile ever present on her face.
She sits on the rolling stool, her pen poised on her pad of paper, ready to listen. "So, where should we start?"
"Are you sure about this?" I say with slight hesitancy, laying full flat on my back on the couch, holding my shirt up and my stomach on full display.
"I have to be sure. No doctors here to hold my hand this time." Noah answers, tapping a needle like they do in those medical shows to get the air bubbles out of the meds. I have to squeeze my eyes shut.
"Why does it have to be four in a row?" I whine.
"Well, it's four needles in a circle, really. Or I guess more of a square around your belly button? But I understand the frustration. But just think, what if this works?" He says, sounding hopeful.
"What if it doesn't?" I glance wearily at him.
"Then we find the next thing to try, and we try that. But we don't give up. We do this together, okay?"
"Okay. Count down for me with each one. I can't look."
Noah wipes at my skin with an alcohol swab, four different spots all around my navel.
"3... 2..." On one, he injects the first of four shots to my stomach.
He's gentle, as if he'd be anything but gentle, and the pain is minimal.
I've felt far worse things, and had far worse needles this, but it still makes me hiss.
He administers the medicine in the syringe, discards it, rubs my stomach to soothe the slight burn of the medicine under my skin, then repeats the process.
After 3 more '3...2... pinch', I snap out of the strong face I've put on, and let myself have a good cry.
My stomach hurts. Every way I move, it stings.
It makes me feel sick. No one knows how my body will react to this new medication, no one knows if it will work.
But it was a shot in the dark, a hope in hell that it will, a biologic medication delivered by injection rather than IV infusion, and specifically FDA-approved for HS.
It's not a guarantee, but it's hope. Noah is in it for the long haul, promising to give me the monthly dose like clockwork, to document any reactions or flares I have while taking the med.
He soothes my back, presses kisses to my cheeks to stop the tears, and apologizes for hurting me even though I asked him to do it because I didn't think I could do it myself.
This is what I have been missing; this is what I almost denied myself.
This is what I am so grateful to have again.
Best of all, I officially switched my medical case over to Dr. Boseman's hands, washing mine clear of Dr. Norris and her passive aggressive 'this is as good as you'll ever get,' mentality.
Dr. Boseman has breathed new faith back into me in relation to my care.
She never promised perfection, but she did promise to use her knowledge and connections in any way she could to help me.
That's more than I've been promised in a long time. So I let myself hope.
12:00am. October 31st, 2024. Halloween. My twenty-sixth birthday.
"Happy birthday, Goddess." He says softly to me, kissing my cheek, my lips, my other cheek, kissing down, down, down my body, fighting the knee jerk reaction to the giggles spilling from my lips.
"Noah, I can't possibly—oh shit." His breath is hot over my panties, enticing me in every way.
"What was that?"
"You're—ah—you're going to get in trouble," I mutter, hand fisting into his hair, relishing in the gasp and moan of pleasure he lets out as he licks over me.
"Promises, promises." He teases me further, finger slipping under the fabric—
The phone rings. We stop all action, his finger barely inside me, his eye meeting mine as we look to the nightstand. Sienna's name flashes across the screen.
Noah pulls back as I roll over and swipe the screen, "Hello?"
"Georgie?" Sienna's voice is loud and high pitched, and the sound of the car whirring in the background.
"Hey, yeah. It's me. Is everything okay?"
"It's time."
It's time? Noah mouths to me, eyebrows knit in confusion.
"Time?" I ask, a bit confused myself.
"Oh shit. Ow. Ok. Um. It's time. Like... fuck that hurts, baby time."
"Baby time? Oh shit, baby time!" I throw myself out of the bed, struggling to find pants. Noah is in a constant state of panic next to me, grabbing everything he can that we don't need. We need clothes on and keys and then we're out of here.
"Noah, call Franny," I tell him to keep him on track, and he nods, going off to do that. "Sienna, is there anything you need?"
"An epidural?" She wheezes. "No. Nothing. Just get to the hospital. I can't see this taking long."
Don't jinx it, I think.
She does, in fact, jinx it. Noah and I arrive at the hospital just minutes after Ricardo and Sienna do, and they've barely got her in a gown and bed before she's asking for an epidural.
She had no intention of ever going without one, according to her binder entitled 'birth plan' that she shoved at me the second I sat beside her.
It's hours of Sienna crying and laughing through contractions, and finally getting that epidural after all before Noah and I excuse ourselves to the waiting room so Sienna can start pushing.
We look at all the happy depictions of mothers and their children on the walls.
Such a happy ward floor in comparison to others in this hospital.
I think about how I was just here a few weeks ago on a floor full of sick people, and it was so hard to imagine then that a floor like this, full of new life and happiness and love could even be in the same building.
"This is... intense." Noah breaks our silence.
"It is." I agree.
"The waiting is killing me. It was like not knowing how you were in here. But this time, I know it's a positive outcome. I didn't know what would come of you." He says, eyes focused somewhere else.
I swallow. "I'm so sorry I did that to you."
He nods. "I understand your reason why, but it's still difficult for me. You left my parent’s house alone, almost dying."
"I wasn't dying—"
He turns to me with narrowed eyes, "Did they or did they not admit you to the hospital for suspected septic shock."
"I… they did." I concede when the glare grows darker.
He shrugs it away, putting his arm around me and pulling me close. "I have you here and now, and that's what matters. I don't think I could do this without you."
"Sit in a waiting room?" I tease, chuckling when poking his side results in a tight squeeze.
"Life, Georgie. I don’t think I could do life without you.”
The words take my breath away, and though I don't pull back, I can still look up to see his face, open and raw with emotions. "Noah."
"Georgie."
I sigh when he brushes the hair out of my face, "It's going to take me a while to get used to all this. I am not trying to seem like I don't want that with you. I do. It's scary, but I want that with you. I want everything with you."
"What if this is us someday?" He gestures around to the room, and I know what he means. I swallow hard.
"Do... you want children?" I ask him.
"Of course, one day. Do you?"
It's not exactly the conversation I expected to have, but I suppose if the topic were to ever arise, I guess here and now would be the best place for it.
"I don't know…" The words of honesty ring out into the mostly silent waiting room. Noah says nothing, but he doesn't recoil, either. He waits for me to continue, or not continue. He leaves that up to me.
A sense of unsureness washes over me, trying to figure out how to explain what I am feeling without making him feel completely blindsided by my admission.
In the past, I would have pulled away from him, I would have deflected, and told him what he wanted to hear.
But I can't do that now. I love him, I want things with him that I never thought about before, and I am just terrified of everything now because I have that opportunity to have those things, if I am willing to take that chance.
But how do I tell him the fears? How do I explain to a perfectly healthy human that I am afraid of passing down a disease to my possible future children, for them to possibly have to suffer?