Day 29 – Side Effects

Moffitt didn't particularly like how familiar he was with the Cambridge chemist's shop. He had gone so often that he knew when certain things were moved around that more casual customers wouldn't notice. He also didn't like how he knew all the clerks and their patterns, nor did he liked how one of them, a nice young lady with freckles, would offer him free chocolate bars. I really, really shouldn't be here so often, he thought. Really, this is bloody embarrassing.

He stayed quiet and kept his head down when he entered with his prescription and made his way over to the chemist's counter. The clerk, a kid studying at the university, said, "Good seeing you again, Doctor. How's the family?"

Oh, bugger off. Moffitt sighed. "Everyone's well. Thanks for asking." He was hidden by several aisles of various medicines while he approached the counter.

The chemist, a shorter man with graying blond hair, offered a slight smile. "Perfect timing. Your medication was delivered this morning."

"Good." Now I don't have to come back for a while. Moffitt kept looking down at the counter, only glancing up when the large bottle of pills was set in front of him.

"I must warn you, though, while this stuff works, the side effects are… a bit intense, from what I've heard."

"Are they common?"

"Not really."

Knowing my luck, I will develop all of them. "What are they?"

"The usual. Drowsiness, nausea. There's also weight loss—"

"Oh, joy. That's exactly what I need."

"Joint pain, insomnia—"

"Wait, I thought you said it can cause drowsiness."

"I'm just reading the label, mate."

"That makes no bloody sense."

"Sorry. Like I said, they're not common. I doubt you have anything to worry about."

"Well, let's hope so." Moffitt continued avoiding eye contact with everyone when he left the chemist's shop. He sighed heavily when he got in his car to go home. All that for a bloody antibiotic. That's ridiculous. Oh, well, like the man said—the odds of me experiencing the side effects are low.

At home, he read the label before taking his first dose. The pills were quite large—and he had to take two of them twice a day. Are we positive they didn't mix up my prescription and a horse's? Moffitt sighed, shook his head, and went into the kitchen with the two oversized pills in hand to fill a glass with water. Because only complete psychopaths like Troy take pills dry.

He tried being quick with swallowing, as the pills tasted awful. So awful that he nearly gagged on them, and had to cover his mouth before accidentally coughing them up into the sink. He put more water in his mouth before making another attempt to swallow. Finally, both pills were down.

The next few days went alright. The medicine was doing its job. Moffitt was able to do his job, studying and organizing artifacts from North Africa in the maze of the laboratories in Cambridge University's archeology and anthropology department. There did come a day, however, when toward the end of the day, he was more worn out than usual.

He was having a hard time keeping his eyes open while closing and locking up his office. He doubled and triple-checked that the door was indeed locked, but still found himself uncertain that he actually did so. Weakly, he tested the doorknob. It wouldn't budge. Alright. Go home.

He had been through the university more times than he could count, but that day, he was tired enough to get himself completely lost. His brain felt fogged over, and keeping his eyes open was becoming more and more of a struggle. He felt like he had been deprived of sleep for several days. Why am I so tired? Moffitt turned a corner. I want to go to bed… I've been down this hallway before. Where am I?

Moffitt stopped. He was back where he started, in front of his office. I really am lost. I can't focus. Why can't I focus? He sighed heavily before going into his office and sinking into the chair at his desk. It's too dangerous for me to drive. I need help. He picked up the phone, and went to dial Vanora's extension… What was her extension again? He set the phone down, and began searching for his list, cursing the whole time. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found it. Please pick up, please pick up, he thought while frantically dialing.

"Magical Antiquities and Research Department," Vanora said. "How can I help you?"

"Vanora? It's Jack. I… need help."

"Are you alright? Are you home?"

"No. I'm extremely tired, so much so that I'm getting lost in my own building. It's not safe for me to drive."

"Is your medicine giving your trouble?"

"You know, you're probably right. I was told drowsiness is one of the side effects."

"I've been drowsy from medicine before, but not to the point of being confused like you."

"The chemist did tell me this particular pill's effects were 'a bit intense.'"

"Wonderful."

"How long do you have left for your shift?"

"I still have an hour, but it's probably best we get you home as soon as possible. Where are you?"

"In my office."

"Alright. I'll be right there. Sit tight, Jack."

"Don't be surprised if I'm asleep when you get here."

"Do your best to stay awake. I can't carry you."

"I'll try." Moffitt didn't put the phone down until his wife hung up, and stood up. It takes her fifteen minutes to walk from her building to mine. As long as she doesn't get sidetracked, I think I can manage fifteen minutes. Moffitt looked at his watch. I can do this. Walk around. Talk to yourself. He started pacing, and talking. "Of all the days I didn't bring Anah. She can drive."

He wandered over to one of the shelves in the back of his office, pulling a book from it. He wondered if reading standing up would be distracting enough for the next fifteen minutes, and even tried reading aloud. Instead of staying standing, he gradually slumped to the floor, his head and limbs feeling heavier and heavier, until his exhaustion won over and he was dozing with the open book on his head.

The next thing he knew, someone was shaking him, and he heard Vanora say, "Jack? Wake up, love."

Moffitt managed to look up at her.

"Oh, good. Come on, let's get you home." Vanora helped him stand, and walked with him leaning on her down to the parking lot. She helped him into the car, then said, "Do you feel queasy at all, Jack?"

"No. Why?"

"Because the last time I had to drive you home like this, you threw up."

"I think I'll be alright. Just don't drive over any bumps."

Moffitt dozed off again during the ride home, which Vanora greatly preferred to him throwing up. She had to wake him up when they arrived home, and guided him into the house. "Take a hot shower," she said. "That should wake you up a little."

"I need bed," Moffitt muttered.

"You still need to eat dinner and take your next dose." Vanora closed and locked the door behind her after getting Moffitt in the house. "I'll try to help as much as I can, if you want."

"I would appreciate that."

Taking a hot shower did help a little. Moffitt didn't feel nearly as disoriented as before, but he still felt like he needed to go to bed early. He sat at the table as Vanora was serving dinner, and found his appetite was nonexistent. "Forgive me, darling, I… don't want to eat," he said.

"That's alright. Are you not feeling well?" Vanora asked.

"I still feel mostly tired, but… I just have no desire to eat."

"Did you have anything for lunch?"

Moffitt shook his head.

"You need something in your system, Jack."

"I know. These stupid pills also have a side effect of weight loss." Moffitt smirked. "You saw me in the bathroom. Do I look like I need to lose weight?"

"No, you most certainly don't. You're so thin, you poor thing. Sometimes I wonder if I'm going to break your ribs every time I hug you."

"You won't. I promise." Despite not wanting to, Moffitt forced himself to eat, and helped Vanora clean up afterward. Before he could turn in for an early bedtime, he heard Vanora adding water to the tea kettle. Is she having tea by herself? That's no fun. His shoulders slumped. It's nearly four hours too early for bed. I don't want Vanora to be spending all that time by herself. He turned to face her. "Darling?"

"Yes?" Vanora glanced at him.

"Could you put some water on for me as well?"

"I thought you were going to bed."

"I was, but… tea is better with someone to share it with."

"Alright. If you feel you can stay up."

"I do."

"What would you like, then?"

"Earl Grey, please. Thank you."

After tea and a couch cuddle, Moffitt finally settled down to bed, with Vanora at his side. He found there was another reason he didn't want to go to bed early, despite his exhaustion—he couldn't fathom the idea of going to sleep alone.

A horrible thought hit him as he moved over to Vanora's pillow to snuggle. It would be many, many years, decades, even, but he was aware that there could come a day where he would be sleeping alone. He swallowed past his tears, and squeezed his wife tightly. I will never take you for granted. I promise.