Layla
Chapter Thirty-One
“It’s one hundred two, point six,” Patty read off the thermometer.
“Shit.” Even a couple days after Kellan had told me he was coming down with a cold, I’d really thought I was in the clear. But I wasn’t. It started with a sore throat, and nasal congestion, but now it was a fever.
“That along with your lowered white blood count means you need to go to the hospital. The ER since it’s a Sunday.”
“You know Kellan will flip once he finds out.” He’d blame himself fully.
She put her hands on her hips. “He’d flip more if you were to ignore your nurse’s advice and not go.”
I knew better than to go against Patty’s advice. “True. But if it’s viral, what can they do?”
“Maybe nothing, but they can monitor you. Pack a bag, honey. Hopefully you won’t need to stay, but it’s best you have it in case.”
Forty minutes later I was in the ER, hooked up to an IV.
Turned out in addition to the fever, I was dehydrated, so they’d decided to pump some fluids in me.
I knew it was all precautionary, but it didn’t keep me from worrying.
Knowing what the news of this would do to Kellan, I’d put off calling him.
But I couldn’t put if off any longer. He’d already left a voice message and texted me.
“Hello,” he answered on the first ring. His voice didn’t sound any better than it had yesterday.
“Hey. How you feeling?”
“Better, although I sound worse. I went into the clinic and got some meds. They said I have bronchitis and a sinus infection.”
“I’m glad you went in to see someone.”
“Me too. Anything to get to see you sooner.”
God, he was sweet.
“You doing okay? You sound a little stuffy.”
“Actually, I think I may have a cold.”
“How bad? Do you have a fever?”
“Unfortunately, I do. Patty brought me into the ER as a precaution since my white blood cell count is down. They’re putting some fluids in me in the hopes I can feel better faster.”
He was silent.
“Kellan?”
“I’m here. Just so damn mad at myself.”
“For what? Who says you passed it on? It’s that time of year: cold and flu season. I’m coming into contact with who knows what whenever I’m in the hospital—and I was just here Monday.”
“Are they admitting you?”
“Not so far, which is a good sign.”
“Did you call your brother? Or your parents?”
“Not yet. I wanted to call you first.”
“You don’t know how much I hate that I can’t drive down there to be with you.”
“Believe me, I do. But I’m hoping my being here will make you worry less than if I’d told you I didn’t need to go to the doctor at all.”
His sigh was audible. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry, Layla.”
“Don’t be. I’ll text you once I’m home. Keep feeling better.”
“You, too.”
I was fine when I left the hospital with some decongestant and my promise to drink plenty of fluids.
I wasn’t fine seventy-two hours later when my fever spiked at one hundred four, and it started to hurt to breathe.
Patty didn’t hesitate. Simply told me to get into the car, and we were heading to the emergency room.
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.
I could see the worry in her expression.
I texted Kellan to tell him I was back at the hospital, just precautionary, and I’d be in touch.
Thankfully, he’d been on antibiotics and a steroid now for a few days and was feeling much better.
I wished I could say the same. A chest X-ray and a blood test later revealed I had bacterial pneumonia.
I was stunned with how fast it had happened.
I tried to remain positive, but it was clear from the speed with which they intravenously pumped antibiotics into my veins this was serious.
While I let my brother and parents know via phone, I sat in my hospital bed and prayed.
I requested pen and paper since my voice was waning, and I coughed whenever I had anything to say.
The thing I hated most, though, was not having Kellan here. I was scared and didn’t have him to tell me he’d be strong for us both. But a few hours later, I thought I was hallucinating when he walked in through my hospital room door.
“I thought you couldn’t come?”
His eyes were tired and his face pale from being sick all week. “I got cleared by your doctor since I’ve been on the antibiotics and am no longer contagious. How are you feeling?”
It felt incredible to feel his hand in mine. “I’ve been better. I’m getting my antibiotics.”
“Pneumonia?”
“Yeah. Unfortunately.”
His lips took a grim line. “How many days do they think you’ll be in here?”
“Don’t know. A couple is my guess. They need to monitor me. Hopefully these antibiotics will fight the infection quickly.” The words made me start coughing.
He raked a hand over his face, guilt etched there.
“Stop blaming yourself. Please.” I could read it all over his expression. I grabbed my pen and paper in order to write things instead of speaking them.
He took the chair and pulled it next to my bed so he could be close to me. “I can’t help it. I won’t feel better until you’re at home recovered.”
“Let’s hope that’s before Thanksgiving. Would be a bummer to be in here over the holiday.” It was only a few days away, and his parents were due to come up. We had planned on a meeting of the families at Kellan’s house.
“Nice try. You’re not leaving me alone to deal with both sets of parents.”
I smiled, writing. “How did we end up with that situation anyhow?”
“We got creative and thought of combining our families for the one day of Thanksgiving. Christmas may be easier. Perhaps we could spend Christmas Eve with one set, then drive to the others the day of.”
I’d certainly never split holidays like a married couple before. But it didn’t freak me out. Instead, it felt as if it was a natural step in our relationship. We both looked up when my brother came walking in.
“I can appreciate you wanting to improve my dating game by giving me access to your cute nurses, but I thought we agreed to keep it to routine hospital visits.”
Leave it to my brother to crack a joke. That’s why I wanted him and Kellan here. Because even when it was serious, they could make me laugh and ease my anxiety.
“I thought I’d improve your game by allowing you to meet a different population,” I wrote.
He came over and kissed my forehead. “Such a loyal wingman. How you feeling?”
“Okay,” I whispered.
Kellan spoke. “She has pneumonia.”
At the news, Russell’s lips took on a familiar flat line.
I wrote my next sentence, “They’re pumping me full of antibiotics.”
“Good.” His gaze flickered over to Kellan. “Dude, you look like hell. You feeling any better?”
“Yeah. I was screened before coming in. I’m no longer contagious. Not that it matters. The damage is done.”
I wrote quickly, underlining the last three words. “I keep telling him it’s not his fault.”
Luckily, my brother agreed. “I had a cold two weeks ago, and half my class has had the flu over the last month. It’s going around. By the way, Mom and Dad are on their way down.”
I wrote out, “You have school tomorrow, so you shouldn’t stay late.”
“I do, but let me worry about that.”
I turned toward Kellan, writing, “You have the walk-through this week. You can’t miss it.” He was down to just the small details now, and then he was finished.
“It’ll be fine.”
But twenty-four hours later, it wasn’t.