Chapter Eleven
Josh felt the hand on his shoulder and turned away from it. His eyes opened slowly as he felt the hand grab him again, this time more forcefully. He sighed deeply and was about to tell whoever it was to get the hell off him when he heard the words that forced him wide-awake.
"Take me to the ER."
Josh looked up at Sam. "Why, what's wrong?" his sleep-muddled brain couldn't make sense of Sam's request.
Sam replied by pulling the blanket off Josh. The shock of the cold air was nothing compared to the shock of seeing Sam standing by his bed, clutching his head with one hand and thrusting Josh's car keys at him with the other.
"Please, Josh, please, they'll make it stop. I need drugs …can't stop it…please."
"Shit, Sam, alright, alright." Josh threw on his jeans and a sweatshirt and grabbed his shoes. Sam was pacing up and down in front of the bed and it was only when Josh reached down to tie his laces that he saw Sam's bare feet. He knew trying to get socks on him was out of the question so he pulled a pair of sneakers from the cupboard.
Sam was nearly at the door so Josh grabbed his arm. "Put these on."
Sam thrust the shoes back at him and shouted at him to hurry up. Josh had noticed that someone had smashed a bottle outside on the stoop and although he knew Sam would happily cut his feet to shreds if it meant he could get to the ER, he also knew Sam wouldn't thank him once the headache had gone. He blocked Sam's way to the door and slammed the shoes into his chest. "Put the damn shoes on or you can walk there!"
The force of Josh's voice momentarily stunned Sam and he slipped the shoes on and, laces trailing behind, he opened the door and bolted for the car.
The journey to the ER was silent apart from Sam begging Josh to drive faster. Josh gripped the steering wheel and forced himself to ignore the pleas. He was driving as fast as he could and comforted himself with the knowledge that if Sam wasn't in pain he would be horrified at the speed he was already reaching. He concentrated on the road ahead and told Sam over and over that they were nearly there. Sam had both hands on the dashboard subconsciously trying to push the car nearer its destination.
When they entered the emergency room, Josh recognised a nurse who had seen them before and went over to her ignoring the main desk completely.
"My friend's having a cluster attack. You helped us before do you remember?"
Slightly taken aback by the panicked man, she took a few moments to place him.
"Josh! What are you doing? Make them stop it!" The voice more than the words prompted the nurse to remember Sam's previous visit perfectly.
She led Josh back towards Sam. "Of course I remember. How could I forget? I'll get a doctor." She led them to a room and hurried away.
Josh watched Sam pacing. He knew better than to try to calm him down and so sat in silence and sighed in relief when Doctor Hollis appeared.
He acknowledged Josh and walked over to Sam. "I'm not going to give you anything if you don't get on the bed," he said and to Josh's surprise, Sam immediately got onto the bed and sat with his arms wrapped around his legs. "I'm going to try some oxygen, Sam."
"What? No!" Sam turned a panic stricken face to Josh. "Josh! Tell him!"
While Doctor Hollis explained that he would try the oxygen and if it didn't work he would give Sam something else, Sam got off the bed.
"Whoa, Sam, come back here!" Josh grabbed his arm and steered him back towards the bed. He turned furiously back to Doctor Hollis. "Just give him the damn drugs and try out your oxygen tank another time!"
Doctor Hollis immediately set about pulling up Sam's sleeve and wiping his arm in readiness for the IV. Even though he was disappointed that he wouldn't get consent to try the oxygen, he had never seen a cluster attack as bad as this before and knew at least that the drug he was about to administer would probably provide Sam with immediate relief. He hid his disappointment from Josh and Sam. The studies on oxygen therapy were very promising and Sam was an ideal candidate. He made a mental note to talk to him before he was discharged and see if he could persuade him to try the oxygen the next time he had an attack at home.
Sam forced himself to sit still while the drugs were injected. He wanted to be moving, walking around. The doctor stepped away from the bed but remained in the room. He was fascinated by cluster attacks but had only ever treated four patients for the condition before Sam. He watched as Josh perched on the end of the bed, rubbing Sam's back as he rocked backwards and forwards. He couldn't make out the words that were being spoken and so stepped a little closer. He realised that Josh was counting and occasionally Sam was joining in.
"15,16,17, not long now, Sam, 18, 19, you still with me? 20, 21…" Josh didn't know how long it would take for the drugs to kick in. "22, 23, 24…" Josh stopped counting when he felt, more than heard, Sam sigh. The doctor could hear Josh speaking but stepped away from the bed, aware that the words were private he left the two men alone.
"It's finished, Sam, lie down," Josh ordered and he quickly adjusted the pillows as Sam straightened his legs and lay back. "It's finished," Josh repeated and Sam was aware of a hand on his forehead as he fell into a deep sleep.
"Why can't he take what you just gave him all the time? Why is it so hard to find a drug he can just take to stop this from happening?"
"I just gave Sam intravenous dihydroergotamine. It worked the last time he was treated in the ER and it looks like it's aborted the attack this time but I want to wait and see how he is when he wakes up. Last time, he had a few problems breathing on waking and that can be a side-effect. We can control it here but I don't want to give Sam a drug to take at home that may cause problems after the attacks."
Josh walked away from Doctor Hollis, ran a hand through his hair and then turned back to him. "How hard should I be trying to persuade Sam to try the oxygen therapy?"
"It depends, why is Sam so opposed to it?"
"He's not opposed to oxygen so much as to the idea of having to sit in the Oval Office with an oxygen tank strapped to his back."
Doctor Hollis couldn't help but laugh at the image. "Well, that's not how it works but I can see his point." He sat down and gestured for Josh to do the same. "Oxygen therapy would require Sam to have a canister handy at all times and yes, that can be off-putting for a lot of patients but those who have tried it tend to swear by it and would happily strap a canister to every limb if it meant an end to their attacks. Even I have to admit that an injection, nasal spray or pill is a lot easier to take and makes the condition much more manageable. Let's see how Sam does. If he's okay on waking then we'll know we can try him on the same drug that he can inject himself."
Josh nodded and looked up and down the corridor. He started to speak but a nurse hurried by and he stopped.
"Was there anything else?" Hollis knew that Josh wanted to ask him something and waited patiently for the frazzled man by his side to formulate his thoughts.
"We haven't told the press about what happened last night. We haven't told them because we don't want people to think that what happened makes Sam...makes it look as if Sam is…"
"Suicidal?"
Josh nodded.
"He isn't, you know that and he knows that but I can see why you don't want to spend the next few months making the public see that. It'd almost be as hard as trying to convince them that MS isn't fatal."
Josh's eyes widened at the comment before he nodded. "Yeah, it would."
"There is an end to this, Josh. Sooner or later we'll find the right medication. We're a long way from running out of solutions. We haven't even begun to look at possible surgery yet. There's plenty more options so just keep telling Sam that." Doctor Hollis rose from the seat and stretched his back. "These chairs are killers. I'm on call tonight. I'll come and see Sam in the morning. I doubt he'll wake before then. Are you planning on staying?"
"Yeah, I thought I'd just, you know, hang around, make sure he's okay. He doesn't like to wake up alone." Realising what he had said, Josh glanced up quickly at the doctor but his expression was unreadable.
"You better find a more comfortable chair than this then. I'll see you in the morning." He picked up the notes he had left on the chair and hurried off down the corridor.
Josh stood and wandered over to the vending machine. He chose the healthiest snack he could find and headed outside to phone Toby.
The first thing Sam heard when he woke was the clatter of a trolley being wheeled by. "I don't have a trolley," he said sleepily as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.
"Sam." Josh leant closer to the bed and waited for Sam's eyes to open. When they did it was followed by a groan of recognition as Sam finally realised where he was.
"It sucks, I know." Josh handed Sam a cup of water. "How're you feeling?"
Sam took a welcome sip and shrugged. "Tired but no pain."
Josh took the cup away and helped Sam to sit up. Sam coughed as he moved up the bed. "Feel a bit funny actually."
"Funny how? Ha ha or uh-oh?"
Sam smiled at Josh's categories of funny. "Uh-oh, I think. My chest is tight."
Josh cursed under his breath but Sam caught it. He gave Josh another shrug and tried to smile but couldn't find the energy to try to make Josh or himself feel better. "You better get the doc." He heard Josh curse again and closed his eyes.
Before Josh had reached the door a nurse entered, followed by a doctor. Josh stayed by the door and watched as Sam was asked questions, hooked up to machines and given an oxygen mask. By the time Doctor Hollis arrived Sam's breathing was laboured.
"Same as last time, Sam," Doctor Hollis said as he picked up his chart and studied it. "Just let the oxygen work and you'll be fine. I'm sorry this has happened. I was hoping you'd be okay this time. We'll find the right drug- it's just going to take longer than we would have hoped."
Sam nodded and concentrated on the hiss of the oxygen. At first he'd only been concerned by the fact that he was having the same reaction to the wonder drug that had halted his attack but now it was dawning on him exactly what that meant and he willed everyone out of the room because he was surprised to realise that he was going to cry. He closed his eyes until the sound of chatter by his bed faded. Everyone had gone. He felt a hand reach for his and didn't need to open his eyes to know whose it was. He knew also that he didn't need to hide how he was feeling and so let Josh's grasp on his hand provide some comfort as he awkwardly tried to wipe at his eyes and nose without removing the mask.
"This sucks," Josh said simply and Sam could only nod in agreement.
"Makes worse…because…drugs so…good at…stopping-"
Josh told Sam to shush, so he did. He closed his eyes and concentrated on trying not to panic as each breath wheezed through his lungs. Eventually his breathing eased, Sam's field of vision lessened. "Go to work," he managed to mumble to Josh before finally falling asleep.
"You see this?" Sam shouted in an attempt to pull Josh's attention from the television. "This!" he repeated waving the spoon around.
"Yes, it's a spoon." Josh turned away from the sports report and focused on Sam.
"It's a spoon," Sam repeated. "And do you know where I found it?"
"In the knife section of the cutlery holder?"
"Yes, in the knife section of the- hold on, you mean you're actually aware that you're doing it? You stay at someone's place on the pretence of looking after them, see that they have an orderly system for cutlery storage, and you actually disrupt it on purpose?"
"It's not like I plan it, it just happens. Knives, forks, spoons- I'm a political mover, Sam, I can't let myself be distracted by mundane domestic issues." Josh stood up and walked over to Sam. "Hand me the spoon."
"No, you're going to displace it."
"Sam!" Josh laughed and made a grab at the spoon. "Give me the spoon and sit down, read a book, something! And anyway, what's with the pretence thing? I am looking after you!"
Sam snorted and went back to the kitchen. He had been home for a day. Josh had picked him up the night before from the hospital and had spent the following day with him. It was a Saturday and Sam knew Josh would be spending all weekend whether he wanted him to or not. They hadn't talked about anything to do with headaches, drugs, their relationship or press releases but both knew the subjects couldn't be avoided for long. Clanging from the kitchen made Josh stand up and reluctantly go to investigate.
He leaned unnoticed on the doorjamb for a while watching Sam neatly order every item of cutlery on the kitchen table. A smile settled on his face at the sight of Sam's concentrated frown.
"That's a butter knife," Josh offered helpfully as Sam stood wavering, unsure where to place the odd item.
"I know it's a butter knife! I'm just deciding if I need to make a new pile or not."
Josh took a few tentative steps towards the table and looked at the cutlery that had been neatly placed in piles. "It's a dilemma that's had cutlerytarians stumped for years."
"Josh, I'm grateful you're staying and I know you're doing what you think is best for me but I swear to God, if you don't leave me alone to obsess over this I'll ram this butter knife so far up your ass you'll be making sandwiches with your eyeballs!"
"Oh Sam, Sam, Sam, I can think of so many other things I'd much rather have rammed-"
"Josh! I mean it! Get out of my kitchen!"
"Would you like me to stay and keep an eye on the dessert spoons? I mean I don't want to worry you or anything but I think they're looking a bit mutinous, they're thinking they could take the teaspoons if you ask me." Josh ducked but wasn't quick enough, the spoon landed squarely on his head and he had more sense than to stay and make an issue of it.
Later, after they had eaten, Sam lay on the sofa watching a documentary about Black Holes. Josh was sprawled on the chair beside him. Sam was watching the documentary, Josh was watching Sam. He had forgotten just how much he loved watching Sam. It had once been his favourite pastime. There would always be some documentary or other that Sam would switch on and instruct Josh not to interrupt. 'Don't talk for the next sixty minutes! Light petting or a foot rub is allowed just no actual conversation.' Josh smiled as he remembered how he and Sam would curl up on the sofa, Sam fully engrossed in the programme and Josh in the task of spending the next hour attempting to distract Sam to the point that he would forget the television was even on. Josh watched Sam now and his smile faded as he realised that distracting Sam was a game he was no longer allowed to play.
Thirty minutes passed. Josh went to get a couple of beers. He handed Sam one and instead of sitting back on the chair, sat next to him. Sam pulled his legs up off the floor and tucked them beneath him. He took a swig of beer. His hand holding the bottle resting on the arm of the sofa. His other hand fiddled absently at the hem of his sock. Josh went back to his study of Sam and wondered if he could get used to never being able to distract him again. He decided he couldn't and tentatively reached out and covered Sam's hand with his own. Sam's fingers stilled but he didn't remove his hand. Somewhere, during the first ad break, he removed his fingers from the hem of his sock and allowed Josh's hand to cover them fully. His eyes never left the television and anyone else in the room would have hardly noticed the movement but to Josh it was a massive gesture and so he sat as still as he could, cherishing the feel of Sam's hand in his own.