Chapter 6
"With your permission, we'd like to draw some blood, and test it for that. However, don't be alarmed. HIV is only a very remote possibility. There are many other reasons why someone's immune system isn't up to par."
Gary tried to listen as the doctor continued to explain, but his mind was still stuck on three little letters. HIV. He couldn't have that...could he? He didn't do drugs and he wasn't exactly a ladies man, so how could he have possibly contracted something like that?
"...chemotherapy, people taking steroids or without spleens. Shoot, even undue stress can lower a person's resistance."
Gary looked up sharply. "I had my spleen out last year." Not to mention the loads of stress, Gary thought wryly.
The doctor stood up, "You did? How come?" He leaned over Gary, pulling the hospital gown up to see the scar from the incision for himself.
"I was caught in that bombing of the Sears Tower."
"Did you get a pneumonia vaccine?"
Gary thought for a minute. He seemed to remember the doctor mentioning something about that, but he couldn't recall if he had actually had one done. "I don't know. Maybe they gave me one in the hospital, but I'm not sure."
"Hmmm...well, that could explain it. Anyway, we'll get a hold of your medical records and find out for sure. You just rest, okay? Also, is there anyone you would like us to call? Family? Friends?"
Gary paused, then slowly shook his head. "No, there's no one."
Dr. Nielsen hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. You'll be going to your room soon anyway, so if you think of anyone, you can always call from there."
"Thank-you, Doctor."
His parents had taken the Gray Ghost on a cross country jaunt, and there was no telling where they were right now. Besides, his mom and dad finally seemed to be enjoying themselves again. The last time they had called, from somewhere in Montana, they had sounded like a couple of newlyweds, and Gary didn't want to spoil it for them. By the time they got back, he'd be fine and they would have cut short their vacation for nothing.
Chuck? No, he couldn't call Chuck. Things were going too well for him now. He had escaped the clutches of the paper and sounded happy and relaxed when Gary talked to him on the phone. No way did Gary want to mess up Chuck's prospects in Los Angeles.
Marissa? Definitely not. She had enough to worry about with her mom's illness. It wouldn't be fair to burden her with worry over Gary and McGinty's.
Crumb? Well, Gary supposed he would have to call him. He cringed as he imagined Crumb's gruff voice asking him what kind of trouble he had gotten into now. He hoped Crumb could handle McGinty's by himself for a few days.
Gary lay back, closing his eyes, he wondered if Crumb would think to feed the cat.
The cat!
The paper!
What was he going to do about them? He couldn't stay here. There was no one to pinch hit for him anymore. Gary sat up and methodically began to disconnect the equipment attached to him. Off came the leads to the heart monitor. Next went the little clip on his finger, followed by the oxygen. He hesitated when he came to the IV, but biting his lip, he quickly pulled it out, stifling a gasp of pain.
Now, what the hell had they done with his clothes? Gary looked about the small room, and spied a plastic shopping-type bag on a chair in the corner. That must be them, he thought gratefully. He looked for the lever to lower the side rails of the gurney, though it took a few tries to figure out which way they went when he finally did locate them. He swung his legs over the side of the gurney and pushed himself into a standing position.
He swayed unsteadily, surprised at how dizzy and weak he felt. He started to take a few steps towards the corner, when the door burst open.
The nurse and doctor stood in the doorway, their mouths hanging open in surprise. The doctor was the first to speak.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Gary was beginning to wonder that himself, as his knees began to buckle but he willed them to remain locked. "Sorry, but I can't stay here," he apologized. "I have too much to do at work and home, and...and--"
His thoughts started to become muddled, and for a moment he forgot why he had to go home. He made it to the chair, but found that he would have to sit for a moment before he could get dressed.
Dr. Nielsen caught Gary by the elbow. "Listen, Gary. If you go home, you could die. Do you understand that?"
Gary looked at him in blank confusion. Die? No. He was just a little worn out, that's all. "Sorry, Doc, but I have to go. The paper, ya know," he mumbled. "It-it doesn't let me take sick time. I have ta go, 'cause I don't have anyone left to help me, 'kay?"
The doctor tightened his grip on Gary's elbow while the nurse grasped him around the waist.
"Come on, Gary," the nurse said, "Let's get you back to bed."
Gary attempted to shake them off, but almost lost his balance in the process. To his embarrassment, he felt hot tears well up in his eyes, "You don't understand. I have responsibilities!" He ducked his head onto his shoulder, angrily wiping the wetness away.
"Shhh, it's okay, Gary. Someone else can take over for now." The doctor soothed, as together with the nurse, they succeeded in getting Gary back on the gurney.
Gary sighed, "No, they're all gone. I'm the only one left."
