Broken String

XLIV

It's  a different world, in here, he's never felt that more clearly than now, when he's rolling his sleeve back down after the nurse has drawn five vials of blood. The world of the sick, the injured, the maimed. A world he belongs in now, suddenly, weirdly. A world he wants to leave again, yesterday.
Last week, in fact. 
Oh, for this to be a dream, for it to have never happened, for him to be practising Sibelius, Paganini, Sarasate right now in a room, maybe with Brett by his side working on his Tchaikovsky. To be anywhere in fact but here in this building that's called salmon, surely just to make it seem better to the people who have to come here, to do anything but roll through white halls that smell of antiseptic and sickness. 
"Ah, over there." Brett says as he studies the board and pushes him on towards a lift, over there in the hall. 
It's weird, being in this chair. It's clear to everyone around that he's the sick one, and Brett the healthy one. It separates people from the haves and the have nots. 
How did he never appreciate the health he had? How did he ever think that that was normal?
 
Neurology.

He reads it on the sign the second he is pushed out of the lift. A desk behind glass doors, a nurse typing on a keyboard rapidly approaching as Brett pushes the chair into the ward. A verdict waiting for them in one of the examination rooms. 
Brett signs him in with the nurse and he's glad for it. He doesn't want to talk to anyone, he doesn't want to open his mouth in fact, he doesn't even really want to breathe this stale air. He just wants out, to walk to the car, run to the car and pretend there's no such things as salmon hospitals. 
"She said they're running on time." Brett tells him as he sits down next to him on a green plastic chair. "So we shouldn't have to wait long."
"Awesome." he says feebly. And look, he should at the very least be entertaining, here, for Brett's sake, who is missing school again because of him. Funny. It's just that he doesn't seem to be able to find his funny setting, right now. Or his tongue.
"Mr. Chen?"
It's both a relief and a shock to hear his name. Doctor Yang turns out to be female and quite young, certainly no more than thirty. She has her hair slicked back into an artsy pony tail and eyes him from behind golden framed glasses with a benign look. 
He nods and manages a smile as Brett pushes him into the designated examination room. Now he knows where the verdict will fall, at least. 
"So, I've been reading through your file. Your blood results will come in shortly. Will you tell me again, in your own words, what's been happening with you?"
He likes this doctor. Her voice is quiet, but pleasant. Her eyes are kind. 
"Um, yes." he says. "There's not really that much to tell. Just, I was practising violin earlier this week and my left hand started hurting. I didn't pay much attention at the time because, you know, I've been busy. But then my right hand and my legs followed shortly after. I got exercises from the physio but then the GP said take rest and come here."
She nods and types something into her computer. Then she looks right at him again, that same benign look from earlier on her face. He's pretty sure it's genuine. 
"Okay. So I can see some of the blood work coming in and that all looks normal. I'll ask you to go back to the lab after our consultation, because I would like to check your vitamin levels too. Sometimes deficiencies can cause symptoms like this, although I really don't think that is the case here. Let's check, though. Your inflammation markers are slightly elevated, have you had a cold, maybe?"
"Um. Yeah, last week I think." he says and she nods again. 
"Well, that explains that as well then. Other than that I don't see much out of the ordinary in your results. So what I'd like to suggest is an MRI scan, as soon as possible, of your back and neck."
"Um, why is that?" Brett unexpectedly pipes up next to him. "What are you thinking of?"
The doctor smiles again. 
"A bit early to discuss that, there are many options right now. But a scan will rule out a lot of them. I'm going to put a rush on it, but it may still take some time before a spot opens up. In the mean time I agree with your GP. Take rest. Don't push it."

It hits him now. The verdict he's dreaded is actually not coming after all and suddenly it's all he wants to have in the world. Instead he's going to be leaving here no wiser than he came in. Oh, it would be so very easy to lose it right now, to bawl right in front of his best friend's name sake. Instead he looks down at his useless legs and nods. 
"Okay, thank you." he says quietly.