Page 73 of Steadfast (True North)
“Thanks for the update.”
“You could go to a nursing home that charges on a sliding scale. But some of them aren’t so nice.”
“I don’t want to puke on Ruthie Shipley,” I said honestly. And just saying the word made me feel green. My feet were hot and my hands were cold. I was disgusting even to myself. So I’d rather be alone.
“Well, that’s why I need you to listen to my second idea,” Denny said. “I came up here to suggest that you try some Suboxone,” he said, surprising me. “Sophie said you didn’t love the idea, but she’s been calling around. She found a doctor who will prescribe for you after you leave the hospital. And that doctor will consult for you right now. You could have your first dose today.”
“Nobody here said anything to me about Suboxone.” And they’d all had their prescription pads handy. I’d assumed that I couldn’t have it because of the surgery, or something.
Denny shook his head. “The hospitalist is young, and it’s a controversial drug. But Sophie and the doctor she reached think you could really be helped.”
“Okay,” I said.
Denny blinked at me. “Okay? You mean you’ll try it?”
“I wanted to do this without another drug. But I can’t take it anymore.” Even now I was fighting off another wave of nausea. I needed to stop puking and start healing.
“Youhavedone it, fool. This setback is not your fault. Sophie warned me that you were a stubborn a-hole.”
“I am.”
“Let the doctor help the stubborn asshole, okay? I’m going to make a call,” Denny said, edging for the door. “Don’t go anywhere.”
As if.
* * *
Awhile later, Teen Doctor and Nurse Angela brought me this strange little strip which I was supposed to dissolve in my mouth. It made my throat feel disgusting, and I nearly yarfed up the medicine.
Nothing happened. I was still cursing life.
So after fifteen minutes they gave me another one. “It’s not working,” I mumbled. And didn’t it just figure?
“Just wait,” Nurse Angela said while I made grumpy faces at her.
And then, at around the thirty-minute mark, all my symptoms suddenly just…leveled off. It was as if the roar of a jet engine had been powered down, leaving me in a peaceful silence. My stomach still felt empty, but the waves of nausea subsided. My hands weren’t shaking anymore, and the crawling skin wasgone.
I wasnothigh, though. Not at all.
The Suboxone was some serious juju.
And it was totally fucking odd to be suddenly transported to a state of sobriety even though I knew all too well the sensation of quickly getting high.
I took several deep breaths in a row, because breathing had just gotten easier.
“It’s working, isn’t it?” Angela had snuck up on me. “You look calmer.” She fastened the blood pressure cuff around my arm and shifted the stethoscope to her ears. After a minute of silence, she ripped the velcro off. “That’s impressive.”
I thought so, too. “You know what’s weird? I’m kind of hungry.”
She smiled. “They might green-light you for some food. Let me check.”
It wasn’t mealtime, though. I’d lost all track of the hour, but apparently lunch was over and dinner wasn’t happening soon. But Angela brought me something resembling Gatorade. And when Denny turned up again, he brought me a small bag of pretzels—the kind you could buy out of a vending machine.
“Thanks,” I said, eyeing them. Not only did I still feel like a heel, I couldn’t open the bag one-handed.
Denny watched me for a second. Then he picked up the bag and pulled it open, setting it down on the table beside me. “Sophie needs to speak to you.”
Shit. “I was such a dick to her this morning. Or last night. Whenever that was.”
