The Transplant ✔️

6. Getting Tested

Jobe's POV:

"Do you want to hold my hand, too?" My father has done everything but roll me in a stroller to Kay View Hospital. He felt the need to follow me to ensure that the test to find out if I were a match to this patient was done properly.

"I can if you want." How my father could find this amusing was beyond me. No twenty-one year only man my age had to have his father follow around him like a lap dog.

I pause to look back at him, initially wanting to tell him a piece of my mind, but settling on a blank show of expression.

"Look, I'll be in the waiting room while I wait for you to get this done. I want to see the results on paper the next time I see you." He said sternly.

"Yes, sir." The words spraying out like bitter chocolate.

I waited for the double doors of the lab to automatically open, then went inside without telling father a word.

It took a pretty minute until I found the phlebotomist, who had been patiently awaiting my arrival.

"Mr. Boston, nice to see you. I'm so glad you've decided to get tested. You're doing a truly noble thing for someone you don't know. Not many people would do this." She smiled, taking a pen out of her pocket as she doodled a few notes on a paper.

She wouldn't be saying this if she knew how badly I wanted to leave and knock my father in the face for making me go through this. I could be at home by the pool, or passing the football with Andy instead of this bull.

"Please, take a seat. I'm just filling out paper for you to sign giving the okay for testing."

I didn't want to sit down in this hospital. No telling how many sickly, contagious individuals have been sitting on that chair.

"Thanks, I'll stand."

"Well, you're going to have to sit eventually. I'm going to need you to sit still while I draw blood." The kady, whose lab coat read Tina, handed me a highlighted slip of paper to sign. I heard the back faucet turn on as I signed the paper, not bothering to read the fine print.

"You ready?" Tina towel dried her hands after carefully rinsing them in the faucet. She put on her latex gloves before gathering the materials for the blood test. I hated to say the sight of test tubes made me weak in the knees, but I wasn't a big fan when it came to getting pricked. A simple butterfly needle always felt like the end of the world. I think the wait is actually worse than the sting of the needle.

I decided to give in and sit down on the sit in front of me, resting my right arm on the small, connected table.

There was no need for a tourniquet due to my bulging veins, so the process was a little easier for the lady.
I pumped my fist as she directed, then waited for the sting. Only a slight pinch, but I took it look a man, although I was crying inside.

She maneuvered the sterilized needle around until the blood reluctantly came pouring into the tube.

To think the needle would be the worst part, but in actuality, it was the phlebotomist. It was evident that the lady was a heavy smoker and must have just gotten back from a break. My lungs couldn't take the smell much longer, and I hadn't even been the one to take a drag.

I was relieved when the process was over and I could relax a little. She finished pressing the gauze on my tender skin and applied loose tape Ro keep it sealed.

"All done. You can stay seated here if you'd like, or you can make your way to the waiting room. I can have results for you in an hour or so." An hour was a long time, but it was much better staying here than sitting with my father in the waiting room for an hour.

"Okay, I'll wait here. You won't even hear me." I mentioned, my smile fixed in a set line.

**

After waiting precisely an hour and twenty-three minutes, the results were in.

"Good news, Mr. Boston!"

I'm not a match? Phew.

"No match?" I swung up from my too-tiny chair, expecting for great results.

"No, silly, you are a match! Your confirmed blood type, O negative, is universal and the human leukocyte antigen test was a success!"

My fingers went numb, my balance unsteady.

"Good news, son." My father had snuck behind me, squeezing my shoulder with his meaty hand.

"If you make me go through with this, we are over. This is the end for us." I couldn't care if Tina heard our conversation. I was flabbergasted, fighting the urge to tear the results and throw them in the trash.

How could this be? How could I have gotten myself into this mess all because of a fight that I didn't instigate.

My dad stopped in front me, an inch higher than myself, making sure the nurse didn't see the furiousness on his face.

He pointed a finger in my unquivering face, my arms held to my chest in defiance. He couldn't possible beat me in public, so I had no obligation to apologize for what I had told him.

"If you don't get your act together, this might the end of us regardless. You need to step up, be a man, and deal with your own consequences."

I bit my lip until the taste if iron filled my mouth. I contemplated telling him the thoughts somersaulting in my brain, but I wasn't going to cause a scene.

I took a deep breath before reaching over my father, taking the results from the phlebotomist, and leaving the room in silence.

I felt as if I had a lot to think about, but in reality, the decision on the paper was the only true answer.