Bloodlines - 46. Chapter 46

February 22, 1999

I vomited into the pan they'd given me. What a bunch of shit this was, being sick. Even worse was not knowing what it was. I'd finally come out of my fog, so I was at least alert enough to talk and watch television. That and I could do some of my fucking homework, but only some. Cole had stopped in to see me. He was so into Allison it was too funny. Peeling himself away from her long enough to come visit me was proof of how much he loved me. Robbie and Brad had come up yesterday, but that didn't really help me all that much. Robbie was so upset about me being in the hospital that it kind of bugged me. I almost felt like I had to take care of him, and not the other way around. But Brad was there, and he jumped in to help prop up his partner. In the end, it was good to see them, but it sapped my reserves. I was learning that I had a real limited supply of energy and I needed to ration it. I needed to save it for when I needed to interact with people. I needed to save it for Wade.

He'd been here with me the whole time, only leaving to go take a shower and eat. Sometimes he'd lie down with me, making me feel so warm and loved, while other times he'd just sit on the bed next to mine and study. Just having him around was enough, and at times like this, when he was gone, it was sheer hell. And a good time to sleep. I closed my eyes and dozed off.

I felt a presence next to me and that woke me up. I looked over to see Carullo sitting next to me. “Hey,” I said weakly. “You came to see me.”

“You're smart,” he said with a smile. “What's wrong with you?”

“They don't know yet,” I said. “There are three possibilities. Either I've got mono, leukemia, or acute HIV.”

I watched him grapple with that, watched his face as he freaked out. “God, I hope it's not leukemia. That would be the worst.” And that just blew my mind. I would have thought the HIV would have freaked him out, but he was worried about me more than himself. “HIV would suck too,” he added after he thought about it.

“It would. You need to get tested,” I told him. Now I saw the fear, the total collapse of his guard as he contemplated that idea. If I had ‘it’, he may very well have ‘it’ too. “Besides me, did you have sex with anyone else without a condom?”

He got nervous then, real nervous. “Yeah. But only with two guys, and I know them pretty well.”

“I'm sorry John,” I said, and reached my hand out to hold his. His first reaction was to look at it like it was contaminated, and then he got himself together and held it, running his thumb lovingly across the back of my hand.

“Even if it's HIV, you didn't know, you didn't do it on purpose.”

“No, I didn't. And I still might not have it. But that's not really what I'm talking about,” I said. “I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“It's all pretty fucked up,” he said philosophically. “Don't worry about it.”

“I really do like you. I really care about you, too,” I told him. He gave me a shy grin, and then we sat there until the silence got uncomfortable.

“I gotta run. Football practice. Take care, OK?”

“Doing my best. Thanks for coming to see me,” I said. I watched him leave and felt the guilt start to overwhelm me. I liked him a lot. If Wade wasn't in the picture, I'd have been willing to give it a go, being with him. But Wade was in the picture, and there was no contest. My feelings for him were as strong as steel.

I drifted off to sleep again until I felt a familiar hand holding mine. I woke up smiling and looked up to see Wade there, smiling back at me. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said. “You feeling better?”

“I'm more alert, but I puke every now and then,” I told him. “It's not real pretty.”

“S'OK. At least you can open your eyes and talk,” he said. “That's really freaky, when you just sleep.”

“Thanks for being here,” I said, changing the subject. “You are my world.”

“I love you too,” he said, grinning. “I'll be here as much as I can. I've got practice today, then I'll be back to study. It doesn't bother you, does it?”

“Nope. I don't care if you sit here and sing a fucking opera, as long as you're here.” Then I kind of felt guilty. “But dude, you don't have to be here every minute of your free time. You have a life.”

“I have a life. It revolves around you,” he said. Then he gave me a kiss on the cheek and took off to go to practice. I watched a little television, and I was kind of feeling a little better, when JP came in, followed by Jack. If JP was here when Jack was, that meant there was bad news. I felt my stomach churn and puked into the bed pan again.

“Now is that anyway to greet me?” Jack teased, smiling.

“You brought JP with you, and that means you have bad news,” I told him.

I saw him start to argue, and then he just nodded. “The good news is that the test for strep came back negative, so we can officially rule that out.” Big fucking deal. I wasn't all that worried about strep anyway. “The test for mono came back negative.”

I felt my world starting to fall apart around me. My body, the body that I worked so hard to maintain with hours at the gym to make sure it was beautiful, that body was betraying me. Or was I betraying it? “So that means I have leukemia or AIDS? Which one should I root for?”

He shrugged off the bitterness in my tone. “Don't jump to conclusions,” Jack said calmly. “We're still not sure what it is.”

There was something else, I could tell. What could be worse than that? “What else?”

“We did a test for STDs too. The test for gonorrhea was negative, but the test for syphilis came back positive.”

I just stared at him. My slutty ways were backfiring on me big time now. “So there's a good chance I have HIV, and I have syphilis too?”

“I can't say for sure until we run some more tests. I know this sounds like bullshit, but you're just going to have to be patient while we try to figure out what this is,” he said earnestly.

“Easy for you to say. You're not the one whose kidneys are toast, who has HIV, and syphilis to boot,” I said, unable to hide my bitterness, and directing all of my rage at Jack. I saw him recoil slightly and I felt like shit. He cared about me, I knew he did. “I'm sorry Jack. I'm just freaked out.”

“You're actually one of my calmer patients when faced with this kind of stuff. I understand, I do. You have to trust me to do everything I can to get to the bottom of this and then to help you get better.” The determination in his eyes was the best tonic possible.

“I trust you Jack. I just don't like the news. How long until we have this all figured out?”

He sighed. “I'm hoping within a week.” I nodded and he left, leaving me with JP.

“Not good news,” he said. Duh.

“No, it's not. I have to have hope though. I have to think that it's not some horrible disease flowing through my body. I have to, JP.” I felt tears in my eyes.

“Yes you do,” he said. “Remember that we're here for you.”

“If I have HIV and syphilis, I'll lose Wade,” I said to him, barely biting back the sobs that were beneath the surface.

“I think you're selling Wade short. He's as devoted to you as anyone I've ever seen. I remember when Robbie was in the hospital after he got knocked into the Bay by some gay-basher. Brad was there for him, at the hospital day and night. Wade has that same look in his eyes.”

I thought about that, and how unfair it was for me to question Wade's love and devotion. “Thanks, JP. He deserves the benefit of the doubt.”

“There's something else I want to talk to you about, but I hope you won't be offended,” he said.

That made me nervous. “It's hard to imagine what you could do to offend me.”

“I think you should give someone a power of attorney for health decisions,” he said. He was waiting to see if I'd freak out, but I just looked at him, waiting for an explanation. “If you get sicker and become unconscious, you'll want someone to make decisions for you. The default deciders would be your parents, and I doubt if they'd let Wade stay with you.”

I got where he was coming from now. “Would you do it?” I asked. “I know you'd make sure that Wade was with me as much as he wanted to be, and I trust you to make any decisions that need to be made.”

“What about Robbie, or Wade?” he asked carefully.

“I don't want to throw that much stress on Wade. And Robbie, well, I love him, I do, but he's not as good as you in a crisis. This is really hard on him,” I said.

“I think you're right. I'll bring the papers by later on,” he said.

“Thanks, JP. Thanks for thinking of stuff like this, and planning ahead. If I lost Wade, if he wasn't here, I don't know what I'd do.” I sounded so desperate I pissed myself off.

He nodded. “We were going to try and get you out of here until we knew the results, but I think it's probably better to let you stay here,” JP said, expecting an argument.

“I'm fine with that,” I told him. He hid his shock, but I had my reasons. First of all, I was puking every once in a while. If I was at Escorial, someone would have to clean that up, probably Anna or her staff, and that wasn't fair. More importantly, being here at the hospital meant I was closer to Wade. This was easier for him. JP just nodded, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and left. Then I was alone, and rather than let my active imagination work out all kinds of hellish scenarios, I gave in to sleep.

This time I woke up not to a presence, but to a smell. I opened my eyes to see Wade dangling a bag over me, a bag marked with the Golden Arches. “McDonald's!”

“Yeah, I thought maybe you could keep this down,” Wade said. He handed me a Quarter Pounder and it tasted so good I wolfed it down, along with some fries and a regular cheeseburger. “All the guys wanted to know when you'd be back.”

“Not for a while,” I told him.

“What happened?” he asked, reading the nervousness in my voice.

“The mono test came back negative,” I said. “But the syphilis test came back positive.”

He just stared at me for a minute while he digested that. “So that means you have syphilis and maybe HIV or leukemia?”

“They're going to confirm the syphilis test,” I said. “But otherwise, that's what it looks like.”

“I'm sorry Matt,” Wade said. “When will they know for sure?”

“Jack said it could take a week. A whole fucking week.” I was dejected and it showed.

“We'll make it through this, and we'll do it together,” he said. With him, I could make it. Without him, I wasn't so sure.

February 23, 1998

I had to hold on to the bar while I peed, because I was still a little dizzy. I should have just sat down, but there was something about sitting and peeing that just seemed so girly. Men stood up to pee. I looked down at my dick, waiting for the stream to start. It usually didn't take this long, but finally it started, and then I lost it. My urine was dark, and I'd seen that before. I'd seen that when I was sick with strep, when I'd found out that my kidneys were fucked. I finished peeing and shook my dick, then forced myself to stay calm enough to get back to my bed.

I started to wonder if this might be good news. Maybe all this shit was my kidneys finally shutting down? Maybe it wasn't HIV? Was that possible? I had no clue. I hit the call button to summon the nurse.

“Can I help you?” she asked over the intercom. I hated that. Why couldn't they just come talk to me?

“I just peed and my urine was really dark,” I told her.

“Alright, we'll make a note of that,” she said. Make a note of that? Like it was no big deal?

“My kidneys are bad. When I found out about that, my urine was this dark,” I told her.

“I'll pass that on,” she said. I lay there in bed, livid. Then I calmed myself down. She was doing the right thing. It wasn't urgent or life-threatening, but it was important. God, I had to get a grip on my emotions. Wade was in class, and then he had practice, so I wouldn't see him for a while. I decided to take another nap.

When I woke up, I felt like total shit. The first thing I did was puke, only I didn't have anything left in my stomach, so it was just dry heaves. I was burning up and sweating. I reached over to grab the glass of water and took a drink. Only I didn't. My throat felt like I'd swallowed ground up glass. I tried to swallow the water and I couldn't, but the whole process made me puke again. I hit the call button again.

“Yes?” answered the nurse.

“My throat is really sore,” I croaked. “I can't drink anything.”

“Hang on, I'll be right there,” she said pleasantly. Why couldn't the other nurse have been that nice? I lay there, contemplating how shitty I felt, when a really beautiful nurse walked in. The hospital scrubs she wore couldn't hide her figure, but it was her face that really set her off. She looked like Rebecca Romijn. “So your throat is sore?”

“Yeah,” I said. She felt my neck. “You're really hot,” I said, flirting.

She laughed and shook her head. “Calm down Romeo. You've got a boyfriend.”

“That doesn't mean I can't appreciate beauty,” I said. It felt good to flirt again, at least until my stomach rebelled and I puked again.

“That's not the most attractive thing to do when you're hitting on someone,” she said, teasing me, and keeping me from getting depressed.

“I need to work on that,” I said, and flashed her my smile. Just then Wade came strolling in.

“Good thing you're here. Your boyfriend is hitting on me,” she said as she checked my pulse.

“Can't blame him for that,” Wade said, and winked. “How you doing?”

“Shitty. My pee is dark, I keep puking, and my throat is sore,” I said.

“But you can still find the energy to hit on the nurses,” Wade joked.

“Not the nurses, just this nurse,” I said. She shook her head.

“You look kind of yellow,” Wade said nervously. I'd told him to watch out for that.

The nurse stood back and looked at me. “You're right. I'll call Dr. Hobart.” She scurried out of the room.

“Didn't you tell me to watch out for that?” Wade asked.

“Yeah. And that's when I first thought you might be gay, because you were worried my yellow skin would clash with my hair,” I joked, determined not to get depressed.

“Well, it looks good on you. Even if it does make you look like an Oompa Loompa,” he joked back.

“Bad news for you,” I said. “I can't swallow.”

“Yeah, but I can,” he said, cracking me up. It was so nice to just have a fun conversation instead of being all morbid about my illness.

“Am I interrupting?” I heard a classy female voice say. Claire, looking as elegant and refined as ever.

“I always have time for you,” I said.

“You must be doing better,” she said, smiling.

“Actually, I'm doing worse. But I'm tired of being depressed about it,” I said.

“I can understand that,” she said sympathetically.

“You have amazingly good taste,” Wade said to her. “Do you think the yellowish color of his skin clashes with his hair?”

I could see Claire's eyes flutter slightly as she noticed my yellow skin for the first time, but she hid it gamely. “Why thank you Wade. I think it actually looks better. Notice how the shade gives such a complimentary contrast to his blond hair.”

“See, I'm hotter than ever,” I told Wade. I gave him a dirty look. “Quit lusting after my aunt.” I felt Claire's smooth palm on my forehead.

“You certainly are hot,” she said, raising her eyebrows. Jack came rolling in.

“Hey! What brings you here?” he said to Claire cheerfully. The look they gave each other was priceless. I thought about what a beautiful thing love was.

“I came to see Matt. Running into you is just a bonus,” she said, and gave him a kiss. Jack winked at her and then turned his attention to me.

“You're yellow, you know what that means?” he asked.

“My kidneys are all fucked up,” I said.

“No, it means we have to draw more blood.”

“You could be Dracula and no one would know,” I joked.

“Don't blow my secret,” he joked back. “We'll run some tests and I'll let you know as soon as we figure out what it is. In the meantime, I want to start you on an IV. You could be dehydrated, and if you can't swallow, that will only get worse.”

“Just make sure they keep one arm free so Wade can sleep with me,” I demanded. Jack just chuckled. He and Claire headed out, while a nurse came in and took blood, then stuck an IV in my arm. Wade sat in the bed next to me and smiled, a smile that made me content. I drifted off to sleep while he studied.

I woke up later to find Jack standing over me, looking worried. It was really strange to have this amazingly handsome doctor with that weird, tortured look, and to know that because he cared about me I couldn't lash out at him and take out all of my frustration on him. “What now?” I asked fatalistically.

“Your kidney functions are worse, and your liver enzymes are worse,” he said calmly.

“My whole fucking body is falling apart,” I said, frustrated.

“Not everything,” he said. He smiled to try and cheer me up. “Your heart works great, and your brain is still functioning.”

“More or less,” Wade teased, getting a fake dirty look from me.

“So what does this mean? What happens now?” I'd always been one to take action. Waiting was agony.

“We have to wait for the test results to come back.” He saw my expression and put his hand on my shoulder. “Look Matt, I understand. You want to jump in and fight this thing. You're so much like Brad. He does the same thing, always wanting to attack a problem head on. But in this case, that could do more harm than good.”

He was right. I knew he was right. “I get it, but it doesn't make things any easier.”

“I know. I told you we should have this figured out in a week. A week of hell, but then we should know. I'll check on you tomorrow.”

“Thanks Jack,” I said, watching him leave. This was all easy for him to say, and even though I knew he was right, just lying here was really pissing me off.

February 24, 1999

Shit. That's how I felt. Like total shit. Not only that, I was more tired now than before. Something had changed though. Something was different. When I closed my eyes and rested, I could hear everything around me, track everything perfectly. But when I tried to join the world, when I opened my eyes and tried to talk, my attention span was short, my strength faded fast, and I slipped back into my coherent haze. Interacting with people for more than a few minutes was now impossible.

Ironically, I liked this better. The people around me were freaking out because I wasn't responding to them, but inside, I was so much more alert. It was like my brain, when it disconnected from the communication process, and when I shut my eyes and mouth down, could then put all of its resources into my hearing. I felt Wade holding my hand, gently stroking me. I needed to share this with him. I opened my eyes.

“You're awake!” he said, excitedly.

“No. Listen,” I wheezed. “I hear you. I just can't talk, can't open my eyes. I hear you, I know you're here.” And that was all I got out.

He didn't say anything for a minute. “So when you're shut down like this, you can hear what's going on around you?” he asked. I was too tired to open my eyes again, so I just squeezed his hand as hard as I could, which wasn't hard. So Wade started babbling, telling me all about practice, and all about class, and how much he missed having me around.

“You think he can hear you?” Jack asked. I didn't hear him come in.

“He told me he could, so unless he just likes to hear me rambling on, I'm going with it,” Wade joked.

Jack was skeptical enough to make me wake up. “I have news,” he said.

“Tell me quickly. Can't pay attention long.”

“Your liver enzymes are worse, your kidney functions are worse, and we still don't know why. Your HIV test came back positive, BUT,” he said, stopping me before I freaked out, “I'm not sure it is.”

“Why?” Wade asked.

“It's an Elisa test, and sometimes you can get a false positive. With all the crap going on in your body, with your liver and kidneys, it's possible that screwed it up. Then there's really good news. The HIV viral load test came back at the lowest possible levels.”

“I don't get it?” Wade asked. I tried to smile and thank him for asking the questions I wanted to ask.

“If he had acute HIV, his viral loads would be off the chart. I'm inclined to believe that test is right, and that the Elisa is a false positive,” Jack said.

“So he doesn't have HIV?”

“I didn't say that. I said I don't think he has acute HIV. We'll have to wait for the Western Blot test to know whether he's got HIV or not,” Jack told him.

“So it's kind of good news,” Wade said cautiously.

“Yeah, it is. And we're looking at his blood samples, and how this thing is working him, and I'm starting to think that leukemia is pretty unlikely too.”

I was confused as hell. So was Wade since he kept asking the questions I couldn’t. “I still don't get it. If he doesn't have mono, or acute HIV, or leukemia, and those are all the things we thought he might have, what the fuck is wrong with him?”

“I don't know,” Jack said morosely. His tone, the way he said that, shook me to the core.

I steeled myself to speak. “You'll find out though. You will.”

“He heard me?” Jack asked Wade.

“Looks like it,” Wade said, with a cocky air that reminded Jack that he'd told him so.

February 26, 1999

“I have to go, we have a game,” Wade said. I could hear the reluctance in his voice.

“Go. Win one for me,” I said weakly.

“I should be here with you.”

“Wade, you've been here every spare minute. It's been awesome. I know you love me. Go kick some ass,” I said. Then I closed my eyes. That had taken so much effort. I felt his lips on my cheek, then he was gone, and I was alone.

That didn't bother me as much as it used to. In fact, besides having Wade here, I preferred it. It gave me a chance to rest my mind, and to build up my energy. The downside was that it gave me a chance to think, and that was usually a bad thing.

No one could deny that I was getting worse. Yesterday I'd become more jaundiced, and I'd even gotten a rash. My joints ached, my whole body felt swollen, and I was itchy. I knew my breath was absolutely rancid and that was gross. I'd gotten Wade to squirt breath spray in my mouth constantly without telling the nurses. They'd probably tell me not to do it, and my own mouth tasted too gross to handle that.

That was yesterday, and today had been even worse. They took blood but I kept on bleeding. They practically had to put a fucking tourniquet on my arm to stop it. I was even more tired, even more miserable. My body seemed to be slowly shutting down. For the first time, I was wondering if I'd live. I lay there, trying to listen to the room around me, trying to focus on what was going on, but it was too much. I felt myself slowly falling asleep, felt my body relaxing into somnolence, and then I checked out.

The Ice Oasis,
Redwood City, California

I was so fucking pissed off at the whole world; it had just fired me up. I put all of my pain and frustration into the game. I tore across the ice, thinking about how much I wished Matt were here. He had an intuitive way of playing; he just sensed the game and knew where it was headed. Not me. No, I played everything perfectly, always stayed where I was supposed to be, always used all the right moves, and that made me a good player. But I didn't have his instincts, and that's what made him someone to fear on the ice.

I shot the puck up to Gillespie and he moved it forward. Some Loyola goon gave me a late hit, but it didn't really do anything except piss me off even more. Repressing my feelings, keeping my emotions under control, those are things I did better than most people, and the reason for that was hockey. It was my outlet, my safety valve. Gillespie shot the puck to LeBrand, and he took a shot. It was intercepted by a Loyola player, but that didn't matter. I had speed, but not enough. I kicked it, pushing myself forward, and aimed right at him. He was looking down, something you don't do in hockey. I didn't want to hurt him, so I yelled. “Dude!” To hit him while he was looking down would have been dangerous, and rude, and you couldn't be a Danfield if you weren't going to have good manners. It was like a rule.

He looked up and saw me, then braced himself. I still bowled him over, but at least he didn't get hurt bad. Feeling myself run into him, pummeling him to the ice with my body, was so exhilarating. I snagged the puck from him and headed to the goal. I pulled the stick back so I had leverage. “This one's for you Matt,” I said, and I shot it right by the goalie's shoulder and into the net. The horn blew, and our fans cheered, which was cool since it was almost all Cardinal fans. That took us up 2-1.

After all the commotion, we skated around, waiting for the face off, and the guy I had hit came up behind me. It was kind of menacing, but he didn't scare me. “Dude, that was a nasty hit, but thanks for warning me,” he said.

“I just wanted you to feel some pain, I didn't want you to get hurt,” I said, teasing him. He smiled and nodded, and then we returned to our hockey mode, warriors fighting against each other.

After the game I decided to get dinner with the guys. Matt would probably be sleeping anyway. I mean, I wanted to be with him, but food at the hospital sucked as bad as food on campus. Food is a driving force in my life. I had a good time, let myself have fun, and then headed back to the hospital. I was feeling guilty for being gone longer than I needed to, and that feeling just intensified when I got back to his room and found Jack and JP standing by the bed, looking worried.

“What is it?” I asked as I ran over to the bed.

“He's kind of in this weird state,” Jack said. “He isn't in a coma, but he won't or can't respond either. Maybe you can figure it out.”

That was really flattering. He was such a good diplomat. After he doubted me last time, he was going to defer to my judgment this time. I walked over and held Matt's hand, waiting for a sign. If he gave me one, I'd feel it, but he didn't. Not even the slightest quiver. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I can't lose him, no fucking way. No fucking way can I lose him.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped, then relaxed. JP. Looking at him, sometimes I felt like I was looking in the mirror, not with the way we looked, but with the way our personalities are. The sense of family loyalty, the pressure of being born into old money, the conflicts between that world and being gay, he dealt with all of it. And he was almost as organized as I was too, and that's saying something, because usually no one can come close to me in that area. “He's not here. He's not with us,” I told him.

“His vital signs are OK,” JP said.

“That's right. There's nothing to panic about,” Jack added. “He's probably just resting, trying to help his body heal.”

That was bullshit and we all knew it. “So do we know what's wrong with him yet?” I was pissed and nasty, and it showed, and that pissed me off. I almost physically reigned in my emotions and gave Jack an apologetic look. He understood.

“I don't blame you for being pissed off Wade. I am too. I don't know what's wrong with him. We should have the Western Blot back tomorrow for HIV. I'm thinking we may need to take some bone marrow to check for leukemia. Let’s talk about that tomorrow. The only other thing I can think to do is give him another mono test,” Jack said. That he was so open about his limitations made me feel like I could really trust him, even though it was frustrating as hell when I just wanted results.

“What good will another mono test do?” I asked.

“It's possible the mono didn't show up on the first one. I think we'll give it a try. I'll check back later on,” he said. I nodded, and then just held Matt's hand, gently stroking it, fighting the tears and losing that battle. I felt JP's arm around me and it felt good, really helping me brace myself. It was like he was a fountain of fortitude.

“This would be so much easier if we knew what it was,” I told him.

“I agree. Now all we can do is guess at what it is. Plus we like to be more organized,” he teased.

I smiled up at him. “Yeah, we do.” And suddenly I felt these really strange feelings toward him. Not sexual, filial. It was like he suddenly appeared in front of me, and he was this father figure, replacing the asshole that had only tortured me. “Tell me about how things were when you came out,” I said. He nodded and sat next to me and told me all about his life, while I just held Matt's hand and stroked it lovingly.