When Joanne got home from work, Maureen was on the couch flipping through a magazine. It was evident that she was just trying to keep herself busy.
"Honeybear, what's wrong?" Joanne asked as she put away her briefcase. Maureen stood up and rubbed at her red, slightly puffy eyes.
"The doctor called, I'm not a match. You need to go down to a specialist to talk about dialysis." Joanne wrapped her arms around Maureen. She was doing her best to stay strong. "I'm sorry, Pookie."
"None of this is your fault. We're going to get through this, okay?" Joanne rubbed Maureen's back and held her close. Her hope was starting to slip away.
Maureen was attempting to make some stir fry for dinner while Joanne dialed the number to a specialist given to her by Dr. Estevez's office.
"Hello, Dr. Connors' office," a perky receptionist chirped on the other end of the phone.
"My name is Joanne Jefferson; I was referred to Dr. Connors by Dr. Miguel Estevez."
"Do you need to make an appointment?"
"Yes please."
"How does this Tuesday at noon sound?" Joanne flipped through her planner. She was actually free for once.
"That's fine." Joanne said goodbye to the receptionist and hung up the phone. Then, she wrote down her appointment in her planner. Maybe getting an appointment was a good sign.
That night, Joanne was trying to sleep when she felt Maureen straddle her hips and kiss her neck softly. Joanne moaned.
"I was thinking," Maureen said between kisses.
"Oh no." Maureen sat up and stuck out her tongue. "I'm sorry, baby."
"You better be. If you're not nice to me, then I won't tell you my super cool idea."
"You have a super cool idea?" Maureen nodded eagerly. "I'm waiting."
"Oh, okay. You should get a tattoo or something?"
"A tattoo?"
"Yeah, you know, a cool tattoo or something to show off your wild side only I know about," Maureen purred. Joanne slid her hand along the inside of Maureen's thigh.
"I don't know, I may need to see yours to get some inspiration," she said slyly. A smile quickly spread across Maureen's face.
Letting out a quiet groan, Maureen rolled over. Early morning rays trickled through the window, casting the bedroom into a slightly warm, golden glow. Joanne was fast asleep next to Maureen with her back to her. Her mocha skin was flawless. Maureen longed to stroke her soft skin and hold her as close as possible, but she didn't. Joanne needed her sleep. One the outside, she was perfect, but on the inside, she was falling apart. Maureen carefully slid her arm around Joanne's waist and kissed between her shoulder blades before drifting back off to sleep.
On Tuesday, Joanne and Maureen sat together in the doctor's office, much like the week before. after this, they had the agonizing task of telling their friends that Joanne was sick. Finally, the door opened, and a man in his forties with short blonde hair came inside.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Patrick Connors," he said as he shook both Maureen and Joanne's hands.
"I'm Joanne Jefferson, and this is my girlfriend, Maureen."
"nice to meet you both." Dr. Connors took a seat at a desk next to the examining table. He began to question Joanne endlessly about her family and medical history and how she had been feeling. This process took nearly an hour. Then, Dr. Connors turned to the dreaded topic of dialysis. "We need to start you on dialysis as soon as possible."
"How soon?" Joanne asked.
"Within the next week and a half."
"That soon?" Maureen gawked.
"Based on the blood test results, yes. A nurse will come to your house and take care of the dialysis three times a week if you want." Joanne and Maureen glanced at each other. Everything was moving so fast.
"There's no way to avoid this is there?" asked Joanne.
"I'm afraid not. There's no way you'd get a transplant in time." Joanne took a deep breath.
"Just tell me when," she said sadly.
It was arranged for a nurse to come three times a week to administer the dialysis treatment to Joanne. The nurse would come around nine thirty at night, so the treatment would take place while Joanne was sleeping. Once Maureen understood how to give Joanne the dialysis, there would be no need for the nurse to come by. Joanne didn't like the thought of undergoing dialysis treatment, it made everything so final. Now, there was no denying it, Joanne had kidney failure.