Chapter 4: Sick

In bed again, he closes his eyes. His memory allows him to vividly remember the moments following his mom's discovery.

The same pungent smell of fresh paint, and the nimbus of cool air in the basement. Darkness encompassing the large basement. The light pushing away the darkness as soon as the door opened. His mom's anger.

"It's not my fault, mom," Nick yells, trying to counteract her anger. "It's not what it looks like."

Nick's mom rolls her eyes. "If you really say that, then what were you doing with this bunny?" she says, angrily folds her arms.

Nick starts to speak, but Judy cuts him off. "I jumped on him. Honest!"

Nick's mom stares at Nick, not saying a word for a moment. "You were living with a bunny without telling me."

Nick looks at her. "I still am living with her," he pauses, receiving a menacing glare from his mom. "But I am 32 now, and there are some things I don't need to tell. I'm not a small and unbalanced kid like Judy," he says, managing a grin.

Judy rolls her eyes and Nick's mom's eyes again dart from her son to Judy, back and forth. She slowly turns around, walking out without a word. Nick's father, with a similar glare, turns to follow her.

The scene ends, and now he senses being back in his bedroom. The scene plays over and over in Nick's head as he lay in his bed the day following the incident. He rolls over onto his stomach and gropes for his mobile device, squinting after he finds the power button as the illumination spreads through the room and directly through his eyes. "4:47?" he mumbles to himself, returning the phone to its proper place and shutting his eyes. Desperate to have satisfying energy in the next hour, he distracts his brain to attempt to counteract his awareness. It's 5 AM. You don't have to work today. Just... fall asleep. After many uncomfortable of repositioning himself, he lets out a bloodcurdling groan, clutches his stomach, and realizes a strong wave of nausea that flows as gracefully through his abdomen as ripples in a tide pool. The intensity gradually starts from the top left of his abdomen, then ascends his esophagus, and then threatens vomiting at the top of his throat. Now feeling quite sick, he tries to counteract the feeling with a couple deep breaths, but the tactic fails. His arms begin shaking, then his whole body performs a similar action. After three more wavering breaths, he decides: this is it. I gotta do it. He brings his abdomen to a straight position, his limp legs still flat on the bed. Nausea then amplifies, and, with another blood-curdling groan, rushes out of the room and ducks into the nearest bathroom.

Judy sits up in her bed, a faint sound of coughing echoing through the dark hallway. She shuffles upstairs, and after a short travel reaches the white door, barely visible in the absence of light. She gropes to find the handle, finding it locked. She lightly knocks. "Are you alright?" She asks, still half asleep. Another cough, and then Nick responds:

"No," he quickly coughs into the porcelain bowl and clutches the rim for support. "I think it's appendicitis or something."

She rolls her eyes. "Can I come in? I gotta see if you're okay."

"Sure," he replies. "If you can handle the retching."

Judy slowly opens the door - after he quickly unlocks it - squinting at the bright light of the bathroom. She looks at Nick, hunching over the toilet, his pink tongue, coated white, hanging out, and panting lightly with semi-rapid breaths. She pats him on the back. "All I need to know- and this may seem like an odd question, but did you – y'know," she sticks her tongue out, gesturing her paw away from it. "Red or brown?" she asks.

"Don't worry, C-" he coughs again into the bowl. "Carrots. I haven't had anything come up - well, not much, anyway. My stomach's empty. Y'know, it's the normal color," he coughs once more, lifts his head, unwilling to speak any further, then he slowly stands. Judy leads him out of the room into his own room, with his consent.

They arrive in the darkened room. Judy slows her pace, then slowly, after they reach the bed, assists Nick into bed by grabbing hold of the underside of his knee and pushing it away from her. She rushes over to the opposing side of the bed, pulls him into position, then pulls the sheets up to his chest. "There you go," she lightly rubs him on the head, then pulls out her phone, taps on it for a few seconds, then puts it to her ear. After a few rings, a deep voice answers. She converses for about two minutes before taking the device from her ear and returning it to her pocket.

She looks back at her sick friend, his eyes now shut. "The doctor told me to take your temperature," he opens his eyes, nods, and silently motions toward the nightstand. Following his direction, she locates the thermometer and places it in the correct position in his oral cavity. After a few moments, it reads 103.5. "That's high. Are you okay?"

He looks at her. "Don't be a worrywart, Carrots," he coughs again. "A fox's temperature is 101.7," another cough. "It's a little high, but nothing serious."

She wipes her forehead, exhaling sharply in relief. "Do you hurt?"

He nods. "In my upper back," he silently motions to two portions to the left and right of his spinal cord, just below where his ribs end. Judy scampers over to his left side, lifts the covers from him, and considers Nick's direction at the pain. "It's not that bad, though. On a scale of one to ten, I'd give it a six."

"Do you want any medicine?" Judy asks, stepping away from him, looking at him with her arms folded. The doctor recommended-"

He shakes his head. "I'd throw up faster than a rat with food poisoning. I'll see how I am in about an hour."

She nods. "Try to get some sleep."

After two hours, Judy returns to Nick's room. The sun now beams, lighting the small room. She touches him lightly on the shoulder. "Nick?" she whispers.

He quickly places his hand on his shoulder, staring at her with tired, beady eyes. "I got shot there. So be careful next time, Carrots."

"Oops- sorry Nick," she apologizes, then, with a short delay, inserts the thermometer in Nick's mouth, who gags in surprise. She takes it out after a minute, reads it, and her eyes widen. "105?"

Nick looks at her blankly. "You're kidding, right?"

She shakes her head. "No. Your temperature is actually 105 degrees Fahrenheit."

He attempts to shrug. "Other than nausea, back pain, and feverish temperature, I'm fine. Really. Oh - and I threw up about an hour ago."

"You're not fine," she halts him from sitting. "You'd be fine if you could sit up without a wave of nausea pass over you."

He nods. "I'll show you," he begins, sitting up. Smiling with no nausea whatsoever, he says, "See?"

However, after a moment, he groans again as another wave of nausea penetrates him, and in the blink of an eye, Judy chases after the nauseous fox.

The bunny rubs her friend's back as he leans over the porcelain bowl, who again coughs deeply. She looks at the bathroom door to distract herself from augmenting her already nauseous feelings. "Let it out, Nick," she says, frowning at the disgusting stench of hydrochloric acid, pepsin, and leftover chyme. She fights the urge to show her disgust.

Nick looks at her. "Are you going to be sick? I can read you like a book."

She shakes her head. "I'm fine. I just have a weak stomach – well, in these situations, at least."

He rolls his eyes as he stands up. "I wonder how you can keep your job. I know how disgusting it can be."

She nods. "I agree," she says, her phone simultaneously ringing. She retrieves it from her pocket, presses a few buttons, holds the phone to her ear, then chats for a minute, then hangs up.

He looks at her. "Who was it?"

"Bogo," she sighs. "He told us to come in today, so I told him that it's Sunday."

He waves his hand anxiously. "Go on."

"He told me he doesn't care, but I told him that you're sick, and he told me to find a 'babysitter,' as he says," she wiggles her fingers at the word 'babysitter.'

He looks at her blankly. "What else, Carrots? Do I have to come in or not?"

She rolls her eyes. "Remember, Nick, that patience is a virtue," she continues, ignoring Nick's sigh. "Anyway, I told him that I already tried to find one, so he told us to come in as soon as possible."

Nick rolls his eyes. "There's Chief Buffalo-Butt for you. I was hoping for a day off, but I don't want to push it."

"Agreed."

He kindly touches her shoulder blades with his paw. "I gotta take care of some business," he leads her outside the door, his face now clearly uncomfortable. "Uh... see you in a minute."

After about a minute, he quietly peeks open the door. "Um, Carrots," he blushes. Why is this happening to me? The thought rages through his mind as the skin underneath her fur begins to redden further. "I think you need to see something."

She murmurs under her breath as she follows him into the bathroom. He inches it open, hesitantly letting her in. "Okay, Carrots, so I was..." he palms his face. "Y'know, relieving myself. I'll show you what happened," Nick motions into the toilet, and her eyes widen. She grabs his arm. Without a word, she looks at him frantically as she leads him out the door. "We got to get you to a hospital."

Ten minutes later, Judy admits Nick to the local emergency unit. Noticing his acute symptoms, proper drugs are administered via an intravenous line, including an antiemetic, antipyretic, and analgesic, partially or entirely relieving his nausea and vomiting, fever, and pain respectively.

After several examinations and a urine test, the doctor walks into the examination room, where Nick sits in a grey examination chair, and Judy sits in front of him, in a chair, reading a magazine. She looks up as the doctor enters, still holding the magazine in both paws.

The room is gray and has a faint scent of sterility. There are no windows in the room, but a single light bulb gives the room an invigorating daylight color. "Well, hello," the doctor says. He is a fox that is slightly taller than Nick, wearing a white uniform. "Nick, the tests that we have confirmed – since you have been vomiting, have prominent hematuria, and have mild hypercalcemia – it looks like you have calcium-caused nephrolithiasis."

Nick rolls his eyes. "I'm not an expert, here. I'm a fox with a small amount of medical knowledge. What in the heck does 'nephro-'" he pauses to try to pronounce the word again. "Nephrolith... oh, I give up. What does that long word mean? I'm not a doctor – no offense. Oh, and sorry – what do the other words mean?"

The doctor chuckles. "No, but the word nephrolithiasis is the medical term for kidney stones - tiny stones that tend to form in the kidneys - and as I said before, the disease is calcium-caused. So, what do you get when you put them together?"

"Calcium-caused kidney stones," Judy smiles at her friend before he has a chance to reply.

The doctor nods. "Yes. About the other words, I have a chart," he hands it to him. "We've printed common symptoms of kidney stones, and I've circled the ones you've presented, along with the medical terms for them."

Nick considers the symptoms of his condition, then nods and hands it back to the doctor. "Yeah, you said those. And I had them."

"It's great that they allowed us to print that for you, right?" he chuckles, locating the cluster of information on the chart. "Anyway, we took a CT scan of your lower back and found two kidney stones, about 3 millimeters in size, and you should pass them with minimal to moderate pain. Drink lots of water, and you should pass them."

Nick frowns. "Is there a medicine?"

The doctor pulls out a pad. "Water pills, also called diuretics, neutralize and overpower the effect of the antidiuretic hormone, allowing the kidneys to produce more urine than usual. They increase the kidney's ability to filter, which increase urine production. You sure you want them?"

"Yeah," he smiles and looks at the doctor. "So, if you give me these pills, I don't have to drink a lot of water?"

The doctor looks up from the pad and chuckles. "Oh, I wish it were that easy. A major side effect of diuretics is dehydration, and without water, the kidneys fail. Essentially, a repercussion of using diuretics is kidney failure – only if you fail to drink enough water," he rips off the prescription. "This is hydrochlorothiazide - a diuretic. Take one pill once a day until you pass them, or until the symptoms cease," he points at Nick. "Remember. Drink a lot of water. I plan on only seeing you here to check and see if you're free of those kidney stones."

Another short trip later, and Nick and Judy walk through the front door of the house. "Well, that was fun," Nick says with a smile.

Judy rolls her eyes. "No, it was not. First, a $100 medical bill, and a $10 bottle of pills that I paid?"

He looks at her. "The only reason you paid it was because you volunteered to. Oh, can you get me a glass of water? This is so I can take my pill - and then I'm going back to bed."

After about half an hour, Nick shuffles down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. "Carrots?"

Judy looks up from her phone as she is sitting on the couch. "Is something wrong?" she starts to stand from her position.

He nods, sitting next to her. "I've been waking up every 15 minutes and going to the bathroom. Do I need to go to the hospital again?"

She laughs. "No, silly. The doctor prescribed you with a water pill, so remember that it increases urine production."

He nods. "That explains a lot. It must've slipped my mind."

"How are you feeling?"

He nods. "Okay. I might've already passed the stone."

She puts her hand on his forehead. "This may seem personal, but," she looks at him, wording the question in her mind a couple times before putting it verbally. "Is your pee red – and does it hurt when you urinate?"

"No and yes."

"Then you would have a lower chance that you passed your stone than your disease is communicable. Practically zero, if you put it into perspective," she pauses, then raises her paw to his forehead. "Twelve years' experience with fevers tell me that you're still warm."

He rolls his eyes. "101.7, Carrots. Remember, a fox's temperature is 101.7," he says softly. Before he can say another word, Judy stuffs the thermometer back into his mouth.

She smirks. "Just as I thought," she shows it to him. "104."

He stands up. "I'm fine, really."

"Does anything hurt?"

"A little ache in my back, yeah," he shakes his head. "I'm telling you, Carrots, I'm fine. I can handle my nausea, so we should go to work."

She gapes with a full ear-to-ear grin encompassing her face. "Did you really say you wanted to go to work? I have honestly never heard that come out of your mouth. Ever."

He nods, rolling his eyes again. "C'mon, Carrots. Let's go."

She shakes her head. "No, Nicholas Wilde, I am not allowing you to go to work in that state. Please get back to bed."

"Let's just run a little test," he says, beginning to walk upstairs. "I go to work like this," he gestures at himself with a thumb to his chest. "I feel nauseous or have bad pain, I go home," he cranes his paw forward, keeping his forearm erect. "Alright?"

"If you say so," she sighs. After his couple steps up the stairs, she says under her breath, "You're in for a major surprise, buddy."

Thirty minutes later, Judy anxiously knocks on Nick's closed door. She wears her uniform, unbeknownst if he even wears any portion of his. "Nick, it's been thirty minutes; we're already late as it is!"

"I realize that," comes the muffled reply. "I'm almost ready, Carrots."

"Hey, don't put too much effort into your fur of yours."

"I won't, Carrots. Just, y'know, finishing some touch-ups on my uniform."

"Well, get out here! You can do that in the car."

He rips open the door with one paw, crosses his right leg over his left. He plants his left paw on the door to support himself. He now wears his uniform, an extra-shiny badge, and a forest of decently combed fur. "Be honest, Carrots. Will I make a fool of myself looking like this?"

"Wearing the uniform, yes," she looks at him with a trifled smile.

He curves his mouth into a frown, cocks an eyebrow, and places two fists on his hips, still in the same position as before. "So, is the way I put on the uniform, or just the uniform in general?"

"I would think it's the way you put it on, right?"

He rolls his eyes, augmenting his frown. "Really, Carrots. Do I look good or not?"

"Yes, yes, I was joking before. I don't know why I did, though. Now we're even later than before."

"Good observation, Fluff," he says, rubbing her head, and proceeding down the stairs in a confident manner.

Achieving his quick pace, she looks at him kindly. "Alright, Nick. I was thinking of stopping somewhere for a quick breakfast. Are you okay with that?"

"If you can guarantee I won't spew."

"Oh, hush," she says, playfully waving her hand at him. "So, I take that as a no? Rhyme unintended."

"Two more great observations. You sure you're not any of those great scientists?"

Leaving her speechless, he leads her to the car, then she steps into the driver's seat and proceeds to the station in his grandma's car: a black car with comfortable seats, decent steering, and excellent front-and-back suspension. The seats also raise, leaving her just enough room to reach the pedals.

"Hey, Carrots," Nick acknowledges once locating her inside her cubicle at the ZPD. She looks up from the considerable stack of paperwork piling up on her desk, then turns from her computer to look at him.

"What, Nick?"

"You found us a mission yet?" he asks, crouching in front of Judy's computer.

"Can't. Got all this paperwork to do. It would help if you did some of it," she says, frowning at his amused smirk. "Anyway, did you tell the chief what happened?"

He shakes his head. "Why would I tell the chief? I mean, he doesn't need to know that."

She nods, glancing back to her paperwork. "That's true. Now, do you–"

Officer Fangmeyer appears in the cubicle, stopping her mid-sentence. "Hey, Nickety-Split. The services for your grandma are this afternoon," he says, bringing his paw up to his mouth, exhaling rapidly through his nose to suffice his urge to laugh.

Nick stands from his location, eyes widening. "Why the heck did you tell him that?"

Judy bites her lip. "Not him," she points at a group of officers near the lounge. "Them," she backs up at Nick's crisp stare. "And by them, all of them," her eyes widen even more, teeth pressing together as she backs further away with her revolving desk chair.

Nick forms his hands into fists, nostrils flaring. "You told everybody?" He yells, apathetic of the eyes staring at him.

She nods. "Yeah? It just slipped out. I'm sorry."

He stares at her, pure fury in his eyes. "I'm going to tell everybody your secret, now."

Her eyes widen. "No. You don't mean…"

He nods. "I'll make yours 'slip' just like mine did. Watch me."

"Nick. Please don't," she slowly shakes her head, nose randomly twitching.

He shrugs. "Too bad, Carrots. You promised to keep it a secret, so I'm going to do the same thing to you," he stomps away, leaving the pathetic Judy in her cubicle. She silently weeps as she scans the room to attempt to locate her raging friend.