Chapter 10 #3
“Glow’s husband,” I answered for her. “Tunan. Nice to meet you. Dem her papers?” I asked, nodding to the clipboard. I’d been waiting for an update all night. “What’s goin’ on with her?”
“Nice to meet you both. Glow’s test results came back.
Given the number of seizures she had, we had to rule out neurological issues before updating you all.
I was able to get her medical files, and given her history, I believe the seizures are a symptom of hypoglycemia.
Now that we have stabilized her blood sugar and rehydrated her, she should not experience any more episodes. ”
Dr. Milton stepped closer to the same machine that the nurses visited.
I’d figured out quickly that they were watching her vitals, and I made sure to watch for their reaction to know what was happening.
When the doctor stepped back with a nod, I knew he was good with what he was seeing.
Before I could ask another question, he pressed the clipboard into his chest and cleared his throat.
“If we cannot get Glow to maintain a better diet with supplementations, we’ll need to come up with a better plan to manage her eating disorder.”
“Eatin’ disorder? Fuck you talmbout, doc?” I said, looking from him to Cathy, whose face showed she was aware of what was a revelation to me.
“Glow has anorexia nervosa. Unfortunately, because she is not incapacitated and you are not listed to receive medical information… According to HIPAA, I cannot say more. However, her eating disorder is why she is here. The malnutrition and dehydration are mere symptoms. Again, you both are critical to ensure Glow manages this medical illness. It may seem like a lifestyle choice to those of us who do not struggle with this condition, but that is not the case with your wife, sir.”
Anorexia. That fucking word knocked the wind out of me. The doctor was still yapping about how we could support Glow once she was discharged, but I had tuned that motherfucker out. I looked over at Glow, as if she would wake up and give me answers, but she couldn’t, not in her current state.
“But… She ain’t skinny, doc. I mean, she’s slim, but Glow got curves. Ain’t dat not eatin’ shit white people shit?”
I looked at Cathy and mouthed “my bad” for cursing.
I didn’t mean to sound ignorant, but I was annoyed.
I felt stuck—more so stunned. I associated anorexia with those young snow bunnies who looked like skeletons—sunken jaws, ribcages showing, and constant vomiting.
Stepping back, I chuckled. She had thrown up.
I saw it when I brought her the money. I thought she had just made herself sick from arguing with Glee.
“Damn,” I mumbled, shaking my head. “Dis shit throwin’ me for a loop.”
“I knew, Tunan,” Cathy stated.
She tightened her cardigan around her waist again in a way that she was hugging herself. She’d done that at least three times already. I wanted to be pissed at her, but it was Glow who hadn’t shared the information I deemed important to know before we’d gotten married.
After sniffling, she continued. “It’s something she’s struggled with since childhood, but we’d gotten it under control.
She started eating more and had done well with managing her stress and her need to control everything.
When she began eating on camera and turned it into a hobby, I thought she’d passed it.
I even researched that it was possible for people to outgrow the disorder.
Of course, I had concerns when the online hobby became more of a career. ”
She reached up and moved a strand of hair out of Glow’s face.
My eyes hadn’t left her since she was my only source of answers right now.
Ole boy was talking about HIPAA, but I knew if I hit the receptionist off with a fake number, she would slide me whatever information I wanted on Charisma Glow Payne.
“I’m not the savviest person when it comes to social media, but her rise to success and some of the mean comments did worry me, Tunan.
Still, she seemed to be handling it well.
I… I… I should’ve moved in with her like she’d asked.
The moment I found out Glee had a child, I knew it was going to trigger her stress. ”
Cathy wiped a tear from her face. The woman was barely hanging on. Both of her children were in the ICU. I didn’t know how she was standing here, and it was proof that she was a strong woman. From everything she’d told me, she had the evidence to support that she was.
“It’s not your fault. I’m sure you’ve done all you could,” Dr. Milton assured her before I cut in.
“Uhh… So, whatchu sayin’, doc? I really don’t know too much ’bout dis shit.”
In the hood, we didn’t see people walking around with eating disorders. Hunger? Hell, yeah. Rejecting food? Hell, no. The only reason I knew what anorexia was was because of the movies Tuscany used to watch on Lifetime and shit.
The doctor set the clipboard at the end of Glow’s bed and stuffed his hand into his white coat.
“Again, anorexia nervosa is a serious eating disorder, Mr. Payne. It’s more mental than anything.
I can tell you all the things, but I’m sure you’ll gain a better understand through conversing with your wife about her struggle and how you all can support her.
From her file, she’s lost a significant amount of weight.
It’s important she maintains a weight that is necessary for her to function so that she doesn’t end up in the hospital again, back home. ”
“So you sayin’ dis shit ain’t got no cure? Give her some meds or sum’n so we can be on our way. Money ain’t an issue.”
“Unfortunately, there is no cure, and until Glow can prove to her primary physician that she can do her part, medicine will not benefit her.”
“No cure?” I asked in disbelief.
“Correct. With this disorder, food is truly the only medicine. And in my professional opinion, she won’t ever need the meds if she takes control now.
Mrs. Payne needs to eat three times a day, plus snacks.
Whole foods, protein, greens, and a carbohydrate with every meal.
She’s going to need someone with her daily to ensure she isn’t vomiting.
If we do not get a handle on Mrs. Payne’s disorder, she will be opening herself up to dire consequences later.
Cardiovascular issues, bone health, hormonal changes, even death.
Her lack of nutrients can affect her menstrual cycle and cause infertility too.
To me, she is a very lucky young woman to be alive.
I’ve seen more severe cases, but again, the weight loss is a key indication that she can worsen if not supported to overcome her current circumstance. ”
My mind spun with all the words he’d said.
Glow needed help, and she wasn’t well. The concern on his face showed me this shit was serious, but the only thing I could think about was that I’d done this shit before.
Not exactly this, but I’d done the hospital sits and hourly checkups because my last bitch was sick as fuck.
After nursing that hoe back to health, and her dogging me the fuck out, I vowed never to do that shit again.
Glow just wasn’t my bitch, though; she was my wife.
And for some reason, the Big Nigga upstairs kept putting sickly motherfuckers in my path.
“In short, we just need her to keep the food in. I want to monitor her for another day. I also want to consult more with the neurologist about the seizures, to be sure no damage occurred. I’ll have the nurse remove the feeding tube in the next hour. Let us know if you have any questions.”
The doctor said a few more encouraging words to Cathy, who was crying harder than before his update.
I squared my shoulders and nodded at the shit the doctor was saying, not letting my worry show.
I’d said cost wasn’t an issue because we were mob now, but I still hadn’t been told what my source of income would be within the organization.
I had some bread and a mean-ass hustle, so Glow would be good.
Still, I was struggling because I’d agreed to trick on Glow as my wife, and the thought of spending my bread on her health issues was triggering my ass like a motherfucker.
The last thing I should’ve been doing was putting my all into another woman who could heal and then burn me the same way the last woman did.
But Glow ain’t Stella, Tune, I thought to myself.
All this shit was a lot to take in, and since Cathy hadn’t stopped crying since the doctor walked out, I took the moment to walk out too.
I needed some fresh air to settle the thoughts in my head.
Glow didn’t deserve to be compared to Stella and the bullshit she put me through, but shit…
I was human, and this shit felt like déjà vu.
I had some shit to me, but Glow should’ve mentioned that she had an eating disorder.
Of all the people I could have married, I ended up with someone who was fucking insecure about her body—someone who looked perfect from head to fucking toe.
I never would have thought Glow had a damn eating disorder, and I couldn’t stop the word “anorexia” from circling my brain.
I know it wasn’t some shit you can just come out and say, but fuck, she could’ve let a nigga know something.
I stepped into the hallway, giving her mom some privacy to cry in peace for her daughter.
Inhaling the stale-ass hospital air, the elevator across from me dinged, and Don and his wife stepped off.
Don was in a damn three-piece suit, a stark contrast from his street clothes yesterday.
There was a presidential Rolex on one arm and a baby carrier in the next.