Chapter 3:

April 24, 1997

Oakdale, IL

Oakdale Memorial Hospital, 10:00 am

Roger had arrived at Oakdale Memorial just in time for his appointment. He went over to the receptionist and asked where he could find Dr. Bob Hughes. The receptionist told him that Dr. Hughes was in his office, which she led him to. Dr. Hughes was sitting at his desk, writing out on a chart sheet, when the receptionist lightly knocked and told him his 10 am appointment was here early. Dr. Hughes thanked the receptionist, who nodded before she left.

Dr. Hughes was a Caucasian man in his 60's, with black hair greying on the sides, and an aura of sympathy to him that reminded him of Ed Bauer, older and wiser of sorts.

"Mr. Thorpe," said Dr. Hughes, who shook Roger's hand. "Dr. Bob Hughes. Lisa's told me about you over the phone. She said that you were looking to schedule an appointment with me."

"That's right," Roger slurred.

"May I ask exactly what this is all about?" Bob said, as he observed Roger.

"Well, as you can see, I've had this slur for quite a while now," Roger said, raising his right hand to his face before lowering it.

"Yes, I can see," Bob said.

"For months, I was under the impression that I had suffered a minor stroke," Roger explained. "I expected it to go away immediately after recovering, only... it hasn't gone away."

"I see," Bob said, nodding.

"Not only that, but, uh, I've seemed to also gradually lose some weight as well," said Roger.

"And you feel that maybe this is just more than a stroke," Bob said in observation, and not a question.

"That's right," Roger said, nodding.

"What have the doctors at--" Bob asked, trailing off when he looked at Roger, whose eyes lit up with understanding.

"Cedars Hospital, in Springfield," Roger said.

"What have they ruled out so far in your case?" Bob asked.

"They've ruled everything they could think of," Roger slurred. "Lyme disease to mya-- something. Look, Dr. Hughes, I wouldn't be doing this if I were desperate, but... the thing is..." Roger looked to Bob with vulnerability written across his face. "I'm desperate. I want to know what's going on with me. Please... I need help."

Bob stared at Roger for several moments, before nodding. "I'll try and do my best to find out what you have, Roger. If you don't mind, I'd like to get our neurologist, Dr. Harris, to come down and check you out as well."

"I'd appreciate that," Roger said, finally relaxing as he would hopefully finally what was wrong with him.

Springfield, IL

Spaulding Enterprises, 10:30 pm

Amanda Spaulding was still brooding in her office when her brother, Phillip, opened the door to her office.

"Whoa, what's with the long face?" Phillip said, completely surprised by Amanda's brooding.

"It's been a long day, so far," Amanda admitted.

"I'll say," Phillip said, nodding, before looking back out the door, and then turning back to Amanda. "You know, it's funny, because I heard a little rumor going around the office, from some of the party planners for your little cocktail party."

Amanda rolled her eyes, knowing what it was.

"Not only that, but some of the employees said that Roger hasn't shown up to work at all this morning, and that was only before--"

"Yes, Phillip," Amanda snapped. "Roger is gone. There! Are you happy?"

"Whoa, whoa," Phillip said, raising his arms up in defense. "Easy, easy. I just want to know all the details here."

"Well, if you want to know all the details at my and Roger's expense," Amanda said, raising her voice. "Find out from someone else to indulge you."

"Hey!" Phillip said, insulted. "I'm only trying to help--"

"Well, you're not, alright?" Amanda huffed.

"Okay, look, let's just start all over," Phillip said, sitting down in the chair in front of Amanda's desk. "I didn't mean to upset you like that. Could you please tell me why Roger left? Did he break things off with you before he left, is that why you're so upset?"

"No," Amanda said. "To be honest, I just found out about it myself."

"So what's the problem?" Phillip asked.

"The problem is that I had to find out about it from his daughter Blake, who said that he told her that I sent him off on a business meeting," said Amanda.

"Wait, wait, what?" Phillip said, completely baffled as she was when she found out.

"Yeah," said Amanda. "That was my reaction when she told me. Apparently he lied to her to cover up his tracks. I later called the apartment complex manager where Roger was staying at after Blake left, and he told me that Roger had paid him the month's rent before he packed his bags and skipped town."

"I can't believe this is happening," Phillip said softly.

"Yeah well, neither could I," Amanda asked. "Or Blake, in that matter."

"Hey, don't feel too bad, Amanda. I know that you are still going over Roger suddenly leaving you -- and Blake, but believe me, he's actually done us all a favor," Phillip said.

"What?" Amanda asked, not sure if she misheard him.

"The way I see it, Roger had enough sense to finally open his eyes and leave Springfield behind, so he can leave the rest of us be to enjoy our lives for once, without his constant prying and scheming," Phillip said.

"How can you even say that, Phillip?" Amanda glared at Phillip, who ignored it.

"How can you still continue to defend him, Amanda?" Phillip retorted. "After all that he has done to our family? As far as I am concerned, and I'm sure Dad will agree with me on this, Roger leaving is a blessing to all of us, especially his family."

"Look, I am well aware of the fact that Roger is not on your most wanted list, or Dad's or most of Springfield in that matter if you don't count the police department, but did it never occur to you that there might be a reason for Roger's suddenly leaving Springfield?," Amanda asked.

Phillip stared at her. "Like what?"

"I don't know," Amanda said. "Something that would reasonably explain why Roger left."

"Whatever it was, I hope he left a note," Phillip said.

"Phillip--"

"Don't 'Phillip' me, Amanda," Phillip said. "Look, I don't know why Roger left nor do I care to know. As far as I am concerned, Roger Thorpe is much better off dead, lying in a ditch somewhere. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll call Dad and give him the good news."

Phillip left Amanda in her office as she groaned in frustration. Obviously she wasn't going to get help from any of her family. She'll just have to find Roger herself.

Oakdale, IL

Oakdale Memorial, 11:00 am

Roger and Bob had met up with Dr. Ben Harris, the head of neurology, who was African-American, with short black hair, a goatee, and was half younger than Dr. Hughes. They told him of Roger's symptoms and medical history before Dr. Harris nodded his head. He turned to Dr. Hughes and told him he had a clue as to what Roger's problem might be, but they needed to give Roger multiple tests before they could be certain.

Roger just nodded along. They led him to a observation room where they took his blood pressure and his heart beat before soon placing patches connected to wires, which Dr. Harris called electrode patches, on Roger's skin, at the corner of his mouth. One of them gave a mild shock on Roger's mouth, which Dr. Harris explained was normal, as it was meant to give an electrical response for the other electrodes to measure his nerves' response.

He saw Dr. Harris frown before saying he wished to test Roger again with a different test. Unlike the first, it involved a needle, of which Roger hated so much, that was also connected to wires as well. Dr. Harris explained that the needle was also supposed to measure the nerves' response.

Roger winced as he shut his eyes when the needle went into his right arm and touched his muscles, which barely reacted. Dr. Hughes calmly told Roger to relax and contract his muscles before flexing them multiple times. Roger tried, but his muscles hardly moved. After they removed the needle, he opened his eyes in time to notice Dr. Harris and Dr. Hughes had exchanged a private look before Dr. Hughes turned to Roger and say, "Could you give us a minute and wait outside the examination room, Roger? I need to speak with Dr. Harris alone."

Roger nodded, before he stepped outside the room as he waited for them to emerge. When they did, they looked solemn whenever they were about to give a patient bad news. He just wondered what bad news they were going to give him.

"Roger, we appreciate you taking your time to be patient with us," said Dr. Hughes. "Especially with what Dr. Harris and I have to tell you about your condition."

"What is my condition?" Roger slurred, staring at the two doctors. "Did you find out exactly what I have?"

Dr. Hughes and Dr. Harris exchanged another look before Dr. Hughes turned back to Roger and sighed softly. "Yes, Roger. We did, which is why we need you to sit down for what we have to tell you."

Roger sat down slowly on the bench outside the exam room, as his eyes darted back and forth with the two doctors.

"Roger," Dr. Harris began. "The test results confirmed what I've suspected since Dr. Hughes told me about your case. Due to the symptoms you have and what the doctors at Cedars have ruled out so far, along with the lack of stimulated response on both tests--"

"Dr. Harris, would you please just tell me what I have?" Roger slurred, wanting to cut to the case.

Dr. Hughes and Dr. Harris looked at Roger in surprise before nodding slowly.

"Roger," Dr. Hughes said slowly. "Dr. Harris and I believe that you have ALS, amyatrophic lateral sclerosis, most commonly known as Lou Gehrig's disease."

Roger stared at them in shock with his mouth gaping, while deep inside he felt a mix of emotions, the most he felt being closure. After months of wondering what his condition was, with no help whatsoever from the doctors at Cedars, who hated him as much as anyone else in Springfield, he had finally found out his problem. The sad thing about it was that his family would be better off without him, in the dark about his condition and there they would remain.

Roger didn't realize that his eyes were tearing up thinking about them before Dr. Hughes grabbed his shoulder and said, "I'm very sorry, Roger."

Roger finally looked to Dr. Hughes before he ran his hand down his face, wiping away the tears before smiling. His condition caused his smile to crooken. "There's nothing to be sorry for, Dr. Hughes. You're just doing your job."

Dr. Hughes nodded before asking, "Do you have any family members you would like us to call for you?"

"No, thank you," Roger said, shaking his head before he stood up and shook Dr. Hughes' hand and Dr. Harris', thanking them before he turned and walked out of the hospital, with both doctors staring after him as he left.

"Poor man," Bob said, his sympathy going out to Roger.

"It's always hard for the patient to get in terms with their diagnosis," Ben said, agreeing with Bob. "Roger seemed to handle it real well though."

"He most certainly did," Bob said, before narrowing his eyes. "I do have to wonder though. Why did Roger refuse to have us call his family in Springfield?"

"He most likely doesn't want to worry them with his condition," Ben said.

"That may be so," Bob said. "Still though, I should probably get in contact with the doctors at Cedars and let them notify the family of Roger's illness."

"Are you sure he'd want that?" Ben asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. "He may be waiting upon himself to have the courage to tell them the news."

"You're right, Ben," Bob said. "You're absolutely right. I'll just have them contact the family to get in touch with me. God knows he's going to need the support."

Meanwhile, Roger made it to his car and sat there for a while, as he contemplated the news of his illness. He felt like his world had been flipped upside down, with him having to pick up the pieces of his now shattered life. He thought about Holly, the woman he had loved and hurt for so many years; their daughter Christina, who was the apple of Roger's eyes in spite of her marrying Roger's rival Ross Marler, who had first come to Springfield as Roger's defense attorney when he had raped Holly in 1979, something that Roger had always regretted his whole life; and finally his son Hart, who he had had a long, complicated history stemming from Roger stealing his maternal grandfather's farm to Hart gaslighting Roger last year with Dinah Marler, Ross' daughter who Roger had married to get back at Ross for marrying Blake, that and Roger's impulse in the light of Holly marrying Fletcher Reade, before she became Hart's lover in revenge for Roger stealing Dinah's trust fund given to her by her late grandfather Henry Chamberlain, who Roger had once driven to the point of suicide after bankrupting him and stealing his stocks to Spaulding so that Roger could have a foothold in the company.

What a waste of my life, Roger thought as his eyes started watering again. So many lives that I've destroyed, and for what? Money and power? I should've started my own company and built my own family, and made friends in Springfield out of the people who I hurt so badly. Now look at me. I deserve to be put in this position.

Roger sniffled. He put his right hand over his mouth, as he let the tears fall.

Author's Notes: And here we are, everyone. I got really emotional as I was writing this chapter. I wanted the readers to empathize with Roger when he finds out about his diagnosis. Things are going to get even more emotional really soon in the next chapters, so be sure to have your tissue box with you because you are going to need it.

The two tests that Roger went through were the nerve conduction study, which had the swabs and is always before the electromyograph (EMG), which had the needle. I borrowed the 'Roger being afraid of needles' element from 'With Arms Wide Open' by FebWriter.

I am not for sure if I realistically pulled off Bob and Ben diagnosing Roger, but I kinda figured that they had enough information to do so.

Anyways, please let me know what you think. And remember, the more you review, the more inspired I'll be to write the story. Until then, see you next time.