Finding Jaime

Chapter 82

Andy came forward from the sleeping quarters.

"Pete, Jaime's groaning. His cheeks are red. I think he's sick," Andy said.

I got up immediately and rushed back to Jaime's bunk. His cheeks were redder than before. I felt his forehead. He was burning up.

"Pat, call a doctor or someone. I need to have Jaime checked."

Patrick made a phone call while I pulled a cold bottle of water out of the fridge on the bus, and wet a towel from the bathroom - a clean one. I wet the cloth and, kneeling beside Jaime, I started patting his forehead with the cold cloth.  He shivered, but didn't open his eyes. Worrying, I shook his shoulder a little. 

"Jaime? Can you wake up?" I said. 

"Wha?" he mumbled. He didn't open his eyes. 

"Jaime, you have a fever. I need to know you can wake up. Otherwise I'm taking you to the hospital," I said. I knew he would not want to go to the hospital, so I hoped that would mean that would force him to open his eyes and let me know he was somewhat okay. 

"I don't feel good, Dad," Jaime said, opening his eyes just a bit and squinting at me. 

"I know. You have a fever. What else?"

"My arm hurts," he said. 

"Which arm?" I asked. He hadn't injured it as far as I could tell. 

"My right. From my shoulder almost, down," he moaned. I pulled the curtain that would give him some darkness at night, or if he napped during the day, open and then pulled down the collar of his t-shirt. His entire shoulder was an angry red with lines crawling up towards his neck, and down his upper arm.  I touched the skin around his port. He winced and drew in a breath between his teeth. 

"Jaime!" I exclaimed. "Your port is infected!"

"It's fine," he mumbled. "Just a little irritated."

"No, Jaime, this is infected,"

"Pete, I got in touch with the tour doctor. He's going to come take a look, but he's got a call in to a on-call doctor in the area," Patrick said, coming back to the bunk area.

"Okay, thanks, Patrick," I said. 

"How's he doing?" Patrick asked.

"He's got a fever. I'm pretty sure his port is infected, and if it is, he  might need a hospital. He might have to have the port removed and reinserted. But I guess we'll see what the tour doc says."

Patrick nodded and then went to the front saying he'd wait for the medic to come by.

About ten minutes  later, Patrick was leading the medic back to Jaime's bunk area. I had grabbed a small suitcase and was sitting on it beside Jaime. 

"Hey there. I'm Don. I'm the doctor for the tour. Now, I already know about your son and his cancer and his treatment plan, since we got briefed on everyone, but what's happening now?" he asked. 

"Jaime's got a fever and I think his port is infected," I said. 

Don put on a pair of gloves and knelt beside Jaime's bed.  He started by getting Jaime to open his mouth so he could take his temperature. He also checked his blood pressure. 

"Okay, his fever is 103, which isn't great, but we should be able to  manage that for now. Let me take a look at his port," Don said. 

"Jaime, let Don take a look at your port," I said. Jaime opened his eyes again and looked over at Don. Don moved the collar of Jaime's shirt and whistled. 

"Yup. That's infected all right. I'm going to write a prescription for an antibiotic. I know of a 24 hour pharmacy up the road. I'll get a roadie to go get that filled."

"Thanks, Don," I said. 

"Jaime," Don said. "I'm going to  prescribe you an antibiotic, and we're going to have you checked at the hospital tomorrow, okay?"

Jaime looked up at Don and nodded. He then looked at me. 

"Sorry, Dad," he said. 

"It's alright. But I wish you'd been truthful when we asked you if that was bothering you. That looks like it's been infected for a few days, Jaime."

"It wasn't really bothering me though. I really just thought it was irritated. It felt worse before the concert."

I shook my head and told Jaime to get some rest. Don finished up a few things and said he'd be back when the roadie came back with the prescription, and he'd hopefully have some information about what to do in Houston.

I knew I probably wouldn't sleep much, but I crawled into my bunk above Jaime's and tried to get some sleep. I hoped Jaime would stay stable throughout the night and we could get to Houston and get this treated and have him back on the road to recovery.