Chapter 5 - Not Now

The twelve foot, four-inch length interior resembled a bedroom: clean, white walls, a neatly swept floor, and a professionally tended bed, housing the patient. The only significant difference was that the room was moving, on wheels, over eighty miles an hour on the freeway. The interior housed only three persons: Judy Hopps, an on-call nurse, and Nick himself, groaning in pain, which the medical customs had regarded him as the patient. His two paws lay firmly over his bottom right abdomen, and Judy's lay on top of his. She considered him the way a hawk watches its food. She wanted to cry, or scream, or throw something in anger, but instead resolved the issue in squeezing Nick's paw the way a homeless mammal would hold two-hundred-thousand dollars.

Miles away from their destination, the nurse looks nervously at the driver, then back at her patient, then back at the driver. It was as if she had to make a life-changing decision. She had suspected a common illness with her patient, but couldn't decide until he had received proper diagnosis.

Nick's eyes were blank, excepting his green irises in the center of them. His mouth was still, and trailing from it was a light stain of fluid from his stomach he had vomited earlier. Judy's head now laid atop Nick's chest, and she wept like her she was at her grandma's funeral three years earlier. Her grandma, named Nancie, had died of hemorrhagic stroke two days prior to the funeral.

Execution of treatment became unattainable due to the quick efforts to stabilize the patient, as it would be more sanitary and more efficient in the local emergency room. The blaring from the vehicle signaled the drivers of vehicles ahead of the speeding vehicle to dodge them as the drivers of their car increased the speed of the vehicle by twenty miles an hour. The driver of the vehicle, his forename Rick, or "Speedy" to his coworkers, kept his eyes focused on the asphalt in front of them. His paws grasped firmly on the smooth surface of the steering wheel. The assistant and passenger of the cabin, who sat emotionless next to Rick, glanced into the back of the cabin, and quickly glanced back. Voices emitted from the receiver on the dashboard, and the passenger quickly held it to his ear.

"This is Unit 770 to ZGH. ETA of 7, over. Do you copy?" The passenger said.

"ZGH to Unit 770. Status?" The voice of the operator replied briefly.

"Patient in critical condition, but stable. Experiencing dexter gastropelvic pain, over."

"Any other symptoms?"

"Just a moment," the assistant covers the speaker with his paw and glances into the back of the cabin. He pulls up another radio and speaks into it. "This is Emmitt, over."

"Charlotte, over. What do you need?"

"Symptoms on patient excluding the dexter gastropelvic pain."

"Vomiting, nausea, and mild fever is what I have been informed, over."

"Thank you, over," he hangs up and returns his mouth to the other receiver, and conveys the previous information. "Over."

"Understood, over. ETA?"

"Five, over."

"Okay, over. Over and out."

"Over and out."

After a moment, Rick kept his eyes on the road, but moved his mouth towards his assistant. "What do you suspect?"

"I can't say. Colonic intussusception, or renal failure."

"Or maybe PID."

Emmitt looked at Rick like he had just thrown his lunch out the window. "That only occurs in females, you idiot!"

Rick threw his hand into his face. "That's right," he laughed awkwardly at himself. "How did I enter medical school? Maybe that's why I became an ambulance driver." He gestured to the steering wheel with his free paw.

"Serves you right," Emmitt flashed a sly grin, and looked back at Rick, who had straightened his mouth back into a frown. "Didn't you say you wanted to be a taxi driver?"

"Yes," Rick smiled again. "I wanted to take people wherever they wanted."

"Kind of ironic, isn't it?"

"Now that I think about it," Rick laughs. "I could agree with you." He quickly takes a left off the freeway and pulls into the hospital parking lot. He takes a sharp left and turns into the emergency lot. He stops at the curb.

A team of two doctors jump to the scene and transport the miserable patient through the doors, on the wheeled stretcher, to one of the prepared available rooms. One of the doctors, who had assisted in transporting his patient, looked at the blank face of him. He moved over, slowly, and spoke softly. "Do you mind if I assess you?"

Nick looked up, blankly, and nodded. The doctor carefully examined Nick, then spoke again. "I heard you had some pain. Where is it?"
Nick weakly lifted his right paw, outstretched his index finger, and traced the bottom right of his abdomen, three inches from the vertical midline.

The doctor's eyes widened slightly, and ducked out of the room and caught one of the EMTs just leaving. "What were the symptoms?"

"Dexter gastropelvic pain, nausea, vomiting, and a mild fever."

The doctor retreated to the room and looked over his patient again, then looked at his assistant. "John, refer him to a CT scan, stat."

Nick opened his eyes for the first time for a while. It was like a dream: a large, conspicuous room, with glistening tiles and a beautiful sun illuminating it. Machines stood motionless beside him, and wires emerging from them connected to his wrists. Positioned next to his bed was a blue chair, and positioned in it was Judy, her eyes closed. She exhaled louder than normal, and she wore a blue top and a pair of jeans. Her legs lay crossed, one over the other, and her arms draped in the same pattern over her right knee.

A jolt of pain, right where his pain was earlier that day, returned. Except that over the spot was a large bandage. There, and over on his navel, and another next to the original bandage.

Surgery.

Something went wrong that shouldn't've. Something faulted in his body, and doctors had to fix it for him. With surgery. Something happened that shouldn't've. And that was why he was feeling the way he was. But he didn't know what it was.

Nothing could come to his mind. It was as if the anesthetic they had given him extinguished his mood, his personality, his everything. The only thing that he could imagine was how he got here in the first place. And he had no idea.

A doctor strolled in, smiling. "Glad to see you awake," he spoke loudly, and after seeing Judy stir, he lowered his voice. "Sorry. Anyway, surgery went well. They removed your appendix with success."

Appendix. The sworn enemy.

"Wait," for the first time in forever, he spoke. "I had appendicitis?"

"Yes, you did, in fact. We caught it just in time. Any longer and it would have burst."

"I got a question," Nick asked, lifting his shirt again. "Why are there multiple bandages on there? Shouldn't there just be one?"

"Good question," the doctor smiled. "Approximately... 110 years ago - yes - the first laparoscopic surgery was performed. That is a procedure in which we insert sharp instruments into the abdomen, distended with carbon dioxide, and we use them to perform surgery. Recovery time is nearly cut in half, compared to open appendectomy."

"That's nice," Nick says, looking over at Judy. Looking back at the doctor again, he stares at his stomach. "Were you going to do something?"

"Oh, yes," he jumps a little, and eases toward Nick. He extends both his paws and frowns. "Just was going to examine those incisions. Do you mind?"

"Oh, not at all. Be my guest," Nick responds, lifting his arms as if he was surrendering. After a moment, when the doctor touches one of the incisions with his gloved paw, Nick shuts his eyes and groans. "That hurt."

"Oh, sorry. Just had to push on it a little," he ungloves his paws and holds both gloves in his right paw. "You're responding well."

"That's good to hear. Now, do you mind if I you get me some lunch? I'm starving."

"Before we do that," he leans over to him. "I must check your gastrointestinal sounds to see if they are responding properly," he places the stethoscope over Nick's abdomen and moves it around, then releases. "Normal colonic and intestinal sounds, and you're good to go. We can try the food now, but just be sure to try the water first," the doctor walks over to Nick's bedside and pushes a red button next to a speaker. "Appendectomy patient requesting food." He quickly departs the room to assess the next event on his schedule.

A few moments later, a nurse dressed in bright white enters the room with a large tray of assorted foods. She straps it to the bars of the bed and suspends it above Nick's waist. "There you go, hon. Just holler if you need anything else."

"Now," Nick says, the large tray of food staring back at him as if it was alive. "How do I eat this?"

"I can help."

Nick glanced over to the source of the sound. Judy had her eyes open, purple irises glistening like rubies, and she flashed a clean smile.

"Why not?" Nick replies, thrusting one paw, forefinger addressing the other side of the room. "There's a nurse chair there."

"Oh, okay," she does as such, and sits next to him. She could see his face much more defined now. More depressed, but lively simultaneously. His green eyes resembled green tree leaves. His smile looked handsome to her.

"Carrots?"

Judy shook her head rapidly. "Sorry. Just haven't seen you in a while."

"I can tell," he chuckles. "Eventually, I won't be able to tell. So, are you going to feed me or not?"

"You never told me what you felt like. But, since you didn't ask, let's try some ice water first, since the doctor said so. Just to be sure your stomach is through the torture."

"I'm pretty sure I can do this one myself," he takes the cup from Judy, and slowly sucks the liquid from the blue straw. He closes his eyes, slowly embracing the refreshing quality of the natural beverage. After a moment, he removes the straw from his mouth and exhales, making the "ahhh" sound. He moves both hands to the side of him and looks blankly at the wall after setting the cup on the bedside table. "I'm okay," he moves his hands back to his lap. "I think it's time for something that resembles food – gelatin."

"That's a good choice," she holds the spoon up to his mouth, but retreats it a few inches. "But don't you hate gelatin?"

"Kind of, it's just the texture. The gelatin is made from - what, is it fish fat and bones?"

"Yes," she takes a bite of it herself. "And it's the only thing close to what us prey eat that is close to the food of predators," she winces and obtains another scoop of the gelatinous material. "That's kind of gross. It's flavorless."

"Well, then don't feed it to me!" He grins, chuckling, and extends his hand to refuse the food. "Get me something else."

"There's these - what are these?" She holds the unopened cardboard box up to her face and shakes it lightly. "Priscuit?"

"Oh," he grimaces and shakes his head. "Those things taste like dirt."

"What are they made of?" She turns the box over and gasps. "Grass? And wheat, dandelion, chickweed, plantain, wild onion, violets, wood sorrel, henbit, clover, dead-nettle, and sow thistle? What?"

"I don't want those," he gags. "Is there anything that resembles edible food?"

"Um," she scans the table with her paw, picking at the boxes and covered platters. "There's salad here."

"Why not?" He frowns and takes the platter of vegetables Judy hands to him. "Spinach, carrots, lettuce, tomato," he shakes his head. "I'm not a fan of any of 'em - except the Carrots. The Carrots I love to all eternity."
"Ah, Nick," she blushes, then her face falls. "So, you've decided to starve?"

"Is salad my only choice of food?"

She turns back to the table. "Wheat crackers. Zritz."

"That's a huge box," he says as he takes the box from her and rips it open. He takes one of the circular crackers and inserts it into his mouth, chews, and sends the food into his throat. "Good," after a moment, he gently lays both arms on the rails of the bed. Quickly, his eyes widen, and he closes his eyes. "Nausea's striking. Hopefully it's normal - but I need you to do something."

"Yes?"

"Get me to that bathroom. Now."

As quickly as her little bunny legs could keep up, she drags the fox out of the bed, and just in time makes it to the bathroom. Judy closes her eyes and stands outside the wooden door of the bathroom, just as the doctor walks in.

The doctor looks at her, then at the empty bed. "Where is he?"

"In here," she motions to the door with her head. "Got some sudden nausea, that's all. I'm just worried that he's not okay."

"Don't worry, Ms. Hopps," he says with a smile. "We call that PONV, or postoperative nausea and vomiting, a side effect of 30% of patients who are anesthetized. Only if he's not throwing up blood or bile, he's completely fine. Just tell him to wash his mouth -" he opens his coat and pulls out a bottle. "Here's some emesis wash that was just approved by the FDZ," he hands it to Judy. "Anyway, tell him to gargle with approximately a tablespoon. We just don't want extended tooth decay by hydrochloric acid."

"Well, thanks. I'll call someone in if I see anything wrong – wait."

The doctor looks back at her and smiles. "Yes?"

"What's bile?"

"Oh, yes. I meant to inform you of that – it's a green-yellow liquid the liver makes. Sometimes bile backs up into the stomach and vomited. Just be sure his throw-up doesn't resemble the color of grass or coffee grounds."

"Thanks," She opens the door to the bathroom and looks at the sick fox. "Are you okay now?"

"Y-" He responded, but the doctor cut in, calling for Judy.

"Oh, sorry," Judy sneaks out of the room to the doctor. "Yes?"

"I was just wondering; did he eat anything to cause this?"

"A few sips of cold water and a cracker is basically all he could choke down. Then he just developed some nausea, and told me to rush him in there."

"Good to know, Ms. Hopps. Hope you have an enjoyable day."

Without another word, Judy walks back into the bathroom. Nick supported himself by bending over the toilet with his two arms, and he coughed dryly. He stood up and frowned. "I hate doing that."

"It's okay. It's not like you're gonna die. You would have if you stayed at the ZPD any longer."

"That's true," he walks back to the bed and allows himself into it. He shakes his head at the food. "I don't even feel like talking on the subject of food," he says, looking away from it. He smacks his lips and groans. "My mouth tastes horrible."

"I can help with that," she pulls out the bottle of emetic wash. "The doctor called this 'emetic wash'. He said to gurgle a tablespoon, and it should take away the taste."

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to try - hey, do you have a basin or something I could spit this in?"

"Here's a tin thing," she hands the kidney-shaped basin to him. "I've seen these before - I just can't pinpoint the name."

"Well, it's something to spit in. Good enough." He gurgles an estimated tablespoon of the substance, spits it into the basin, and hands the bottle back to her. "Go set that somewhere. I can guarantee you I'll need it again."

She scoffs and moves the basin away from her. He smiles at her, then laughs. "Do you know what I would like, right now?"

"A nice massage, an extra-strong caramel frappe, and a hundred dollars. Geez, I don't know! I'm not psychic."

"I want a hug from the -"

"Stop right there," she frowns. "Don't say that c word."

"Don't worry," he manages to cradle one paw under her chin. "I was going to go with beautiful, but good to know." He grins.

Her eyes become saucers and she blushes. With a crooked smile, she moves lightly into her boyfriend's arms and embraces him. He strokes one of her ears with his paw, and she does the same with his ear.

Deep down, he wanted to pull out a ring and propose to her, without delay.

Not now, Nick, he thought to himself.


Hello, guys, CrazyWriter here. I thank anybody who has read this chapter. The next chapter will be written within the period of one week and three months from the time the previous chapter is written. If you want to suggest ideas, please do so, and anybody who also wants to ask me a question or wants me to add something to this current chapter, please PM me or send me an email (address is in my profile) and I will get back to you as soon as I can. Any constructive criticism is appreciated, but please try to avoid flares, as they will not be tolerated and will be immediately removed/reported. Thank you for your cooperation.