ORIGINAL:The Boy With A Touch Of Cancer(BxB)

11. Back In The Hospital

She laughed lightly and said, "Well, thank you for calming me down, but now we have to focus on you. I'm calling Dr. K and seeing what she has to say, okay?"

I nodded and one corner of my lips lifted slightly. "Okay. You do that, and I'm going to eat since I'm starving."

That was technically a complete lie, even the thought of food was making me feel nauseated, but I wanted her to think I wasn't as sick as I felt, so she wouldn't freak out any more than she already did.

This time she nodded and said somewhat calmly, "Okay. What do you wanna eat? I'll make it while I'm calling Dr. K."

The only thing I actually wanted was a cheeseburger from McDonald's. All that grease and salt would help settle my stomach a little, but I didn't want her to go all the way to freakin' McDonald's just for that, so I replied, "Um...soup's fine."

I sat back down at the table as Mom grabbed her phone and headed into the kitchen to make my food.

I was genuinely scared about what Dr. K would say, as I figured I had a cold, or the flu, which to anyone else, it wouldn't really matter a whole lot; you just felt like shit for a few days, then you're fine, but that's not the case for me.
As my body's immunocompromised--my body has no ability to naturally fight off germs--I get sick really easily, and when I do get sick, my body can't fight off the germs by itself, so I always require medicine of some sort to fight off whatever was making me sick.

"Okay, you want me to bring him in..? Today? Okay, yeah I can do that," Mom rambled on, apparently answering Dr. K's onslaught of questioning.

Mom hung up the phone and came over with my soup and a sleeve of saltine crackers. She set a steaming bowl of canned, chicken noodle soup down in front of me, and I wrinkled my nose at the bowl as I felt my stomach roll just looking at it.

Mom sat down next to me and glanced expectantly at my bowl, waiting for me to take a bite. I slowly reached for my spoon and swirled the broth around, catching a few noodles in the process.
I stared at the spoon, my stomach already churning. I didn't really wanna eat my soup as I knew I would throw it up if I did, but I brought the spoon up to my mouth and took a bite, just to make my Mom happy.

She smiled, satisfied, as I set my spoon down and picked up a cracker. "So, what did Dr. K say?" I nervously questioned as I took a bite of the cracker.

Mom blew out a deep breath. "She wants to see you. Today. So, after you finish your food, we're heading over to the hospital."

I nodded, already knowing I needed a crap-ton of tests to determine what was wrong with me, but all I wanted to do right now was go right back to bed. And not go to the hospital at all; however, ignoring whatever was wrong with me would only make it worse, so I knew I had to go.

I slid my bowl away as even the smell of it was even making me nauseous, then I crossed my arms on the table and laid my newly pounding head on them. I felt steadily worse as the minutes ticked by. I now had a headache, I was nauseous, and I was so tired I could barely stay awake.

"Ethan, sweetheart. I know you don't feel well, but you have to eat," Mom practically pleaded.

I lifted my head slightly to look at her and she was staring at me with a pleading, yet stern look in her eyes. I knew I had to eat something, but I really didn't want to eat that soup, and if I did, I would be back on the bathroom floor, puking my guts out again.

"Mom, please don't make me eat. It's already making me feel sick," I whined.

She sighed, the stern look in her chocolate brown eyes fading as she reached over and rubbed my back. My eyes fluttered closed, and I could literally fall asleep right then and there, but if I did I probably--more like definitely--wouldn't get back up.