Bleeding Heart Ch. 11
*I'm not a doctor, obviously, but I hope you enjoy. I don't own any of these characters.
Kurt followed the nurse with clipboard down the busy hallway as if they were suspended in time. He watched the nurse's dirty blonde ponytail bounce against the back of her blue scrubs with each step and almost tripped with the strongest sensation of deja vu. He felt eight years old again, being led down a corridor by a stranger who would make him say goodbye to the most important person in his life. But this was not his mom. Blaine was not dying. Blaine was asking for him. I should have called my dad, he thought. Please God, let him be okay. The blonde nurse paused outside a closed door and Kurt almost ran into her.
"Is this it?" he asked. The nurse looked back at him confused. Kurt knew those weren't the right words.
"Yes, Mr. Hummel. This is it. This is Blaine's room," she said slowly, looking him over.
Kurt nodded.
"Before we go in there, Dr. Lang is here and he'd like to speak with you about Blaine's condition."
"Sure, yes, please. Thank you. Do I wait here?"
"Yes, I'll wait with you. He just had to make a quick stop at the cafeteria," a sad smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "Dr. Lang is the best cardiothoracic specialist in New York, I'm sure you know that."
Kurt nodded again, thanking Blaine's trust fund.
"Here he comes," she started.
A white coat turned the corner, billowing out behind a man with a determined smile, big teeth and dimples like Dick Van Dyke-a silver fox, Blaine would say, George Clooney incarnate. Suddenly it clicked why Blaine had once taken a keen interest in medicine. As Dr. Lang made his last few strides to meet them, Kurt felt a sudden weight that comes with meeting someone very important, like a parent, a brother. He took a breath, but the doctor spoke first.
"Kurt, I'm Dr. Lang, it's a pleasure to finally meet you." He reached forward to initiate what Kurt had assumed would be a handshake but surprisingly, the doctor handed him one of 2 cups of coffee he had been carrying. He took a sip out of his own and Kurt looked at the cup he'd been given. "It's not a mocha latte, or whatever Blaine sent me to find for you, but it's a warm drink nonetheless." Wide-eyed, honored, Kurt accepted the drink despite the fact he was already trembling from the stress and caffeine already coursing through his veins.
"Th-thank you, I'm, I'm very happy to meet you as well. Blaine always speaks very highly of you," Kurt stammered, collecting himself.
"Well he should, shouldn't he? Twelve years as my most talented patient," the doctor smiled brightly. "Such a flair for the dramatics, huh? Although, I must say I'm not too fond of his impression of Sleeping Beauty," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. Kurt half-smiled back. He couldn't quite tell if this guy was getting ready to drop something really heavy on him or not.
"So, before we go in there, I'd like to discuss Blaine's condition and answer any questions you may have about how he's doing and how we proceed moving forward. Are you with me?"
Kurt nodded robotically, holding his cup with two hands.
"As you know, Blaine suffers from a hereditary arrhythmia disorder triggered by physical and emotional stress. He's been successfully self-treating his symptoms with beta blockers for nearly eleven years, and every now and then during our check-ups we'll adjust the dosage based on his activity levels and environment. We were actually scheduled for our routine appointment later this month, so it shouldn't be a surprise to either of us, I'm sure, that Blaine's early."
Kurt tried to breathe out a polite chuckle.
"Well, according to our tests, it looks like Blaine's dosage was indeed running weak at the time of his episode and leading up to the event, and we have already made adjustments to his medication. What I mean to say here, Kurt, is that because symptoms of this condition are sometimes triggered by emotional stress, loved ones often feel as though they are partly to blame for arrhythmic episodes-people even claim to have afflicted their lovers with a broken heart."
Kurt took a breath and shut his eyes against the bright lights of the hallway before looking back up at Dr. Lang. How could he know that's all Kurt had been able to think about since he ran up those stairs to his apartment? It's my fault.
"Kurt, I'm here to tell you that's simply not the case. Blaine's medication wasn't working as well as it should have been. He loves you very much, and as his support system, he relies on you, but he's tough and he's been managing very well. Don't let the Sleeping Beauty bit fool you. You are not at fault for his episode or his condition, and before I go into any more details, I need to know that you understand that."
Kurt nodded slowly, but a knot tightened in his gut. "I understand."
"Ok, I almost believe you," he smiled, before continuing. "Now, on to the gory details. First, as you know, Blaine suffered a concussion from a fall we can safely assume was caused by his arrhythmia. The laceration at the back of Blaine's head caused him to lose quite a bit of blood and upon revival, the shock of pain from both his chest and head injuries caused him to suffer multiple seizures en route to the hospital. The paramedics also informed me that before they reached your residence, you had initially deployed an at-home defibrillator to revive Blaine. Well done, Kurt-you saved his life." He paused, and Kurt recognized that Dr. Lang was praising him, but he felt numb.
"Once they identified his condition as complicated by his head injury, I was called in to assist with his surgery, and per our escalated treatment plan, I implanted an internal defibrillator device to regulate Blaine's heartbeat. He may have talked to you about getting a pacemaker before if it was ever deemed necessary. As his primary care physician with Blaine's prior consent, I saw this as a necessary and life saving measure. You should know that during surgery to implant the pacemaker, Blaine's heart stopped twice due to complications."
Tears were streaming freely from Kurt's eyes. "St-stopped. You mean-" he stammered.
"Yes. It was touch a go for awhile, but like I said, he's tough. When we closed, his vitals were up and everything looked good. I've been monitoring him since, and I see no indication of further complications, but as with any surgery there are still risks. Considering his compound injuries, I'd like to keep him for observation through tomorrow night. After that you can take him home, but I'll be following up with you both over the next few days with specific instructions for home care and recovery."
"Yes, doctor, of course," Kurt sniffed, "of course, whatever you say. We'll do it. Thank you. Thank you so much."
"Kurt," he smiled, "no need to thank me. I'm very relieved our man pulled through, too. Now, would you like to see him?"
"Yes! Please." Not another word, please just let me see him. Kurt's whole body was suddenly hot and trembling anxiously.
"Alright. We've got the lights dimmed because his concussion has made him light sensitive and he's still pretty heavily medicated from surgery. We've got his arm in a sling to prevent movement around the incision site, and he may look a little worse for ware. I assure you though, all signs indicate he's making a solid recovery."
With that, he leaned into the door and held it open for Kurt to walk through. As he stepped over the threshold, Kurt had the oddest feeling like he was walking off a cliff, falling weightlessly into the dark. He stumbled across the linoleum floor as the quiet beeping of machines flowed through him like a ghost. Dr. Lang grabbed him quickly to help him stand upright and make sure he was ok. It felt like walking barefoot across the wet grass of his mother's grave, hoping to be found. And he was. Staring back at him from the end of the bed was the love of his life. Through an intricate design of tubes and bandages, the small curly haired form locked onto Kurt's devastated gaze.
"I'm not going anywhere," Blaine breathed and Kurt broke into sobs. While being careful enough not to hurt Blaine, Kurt immediately climbed into his bed, where their bodies molded together perfectly to heal.
**to be continued**