Saving Grace: CH 8 (4/26/24)

[LGGrace]

This will be my first story that I have written on DailyDiapers. I don't consider myself a writer and most of my writing experience over the last ten years has been scientific papers. I welcome any constructive criticism and feedback to make the story better.  This story is something that I have been thinking about writing for around a year and I think I have all of the major plot points down with an ending planned and epilogue.  I don't know exactly how long this story will be but it will be a novel length. I plan on averaging a chapter a week at this point.

The story will center around our main character William Gauss, who is an applied math graduate student at Arizona State University. The story is centered around an illness that Will gets in the beginning. This story will be a slow burn in the beginning, as far as ABDL content goes, but if you stick with the story, our main character will be in the deep in of diapers soon enough. 

Since I am new to writing, I did base all my characters off of people in my life but all the names and relationship types are changed. I also am trying to make this story as realistic as possible, so I will use real places in the US. I plan to draw a lot from my own experiences for this story, but I have never lived in the places or attended the universities in this story. The only science fiction of this story will be Will's illness, but I will do my best to make it as realistic as possible from a medical standpoint.

 

Saving Grace

Chapter One

     I leaned back into my chair, stretching my arms above my head. It was getting close to 5 pm and after a long afternoon of grading 60 calculus II student's homework, I had finally finished for the day. Shutting my eyes for a second, I contemplated the lowly life of an applied mathematics Ph.D. student and Teaching Assistant. Don't get me wrong, I love the classes I am taking, and I discovered that I love teaching the calculus recitation classes and working at the tutoring center. Even my students tell me that I make a great teacher. But out of all my responsibilities, there is one thing that I have the hardest time motivating myself to do; grading 4 to 8 hours a week. With 60 students, it can be very mind-numbing.

   

    I open my eyes and look around my small office. I share this office with two other Ph.D. students, but unlike them, I use our office. They like to do most of their work at home if they can and I usually only see them briefly a few times a week. Not that I don't mind, it's nice to pretty much have my own office. I shut my laptop and stuffed it into my backpack and grabbed my bike that was leaning against the wall opposite of my desk. Opening my office door and pushing my bike out, I turn around and lock my door for the day.

   

    Pushing my bike down the corridor, I make my way to the elevator. As I get halfway there I hear someone behind me shout out, ``Hey Will.'' I turn around to see it is one of my friends and fellow grad students Steven walking down the corridor toward me.

   

    Steven is a guy of average height, maybe a little shorter, with an average build. He has shaggy black hair, a full beard that is kept neat and trimmed, and brown eyes behind a pair of glasses. We have been friends since starting at Arizona State University almost two years ago. We met at in-service week, the week before classes started.

   

    As he made his way to me, I said, "What's up, Steven.''

   

    "Getting ready to leave for the day; have you started on the Abstract Algebra homework yet? I am stuck on the proof dealing with factor rings,'' Steven told me.

   

    I said, "I started all the proofs for each problem but have not really delved into trying to solve them yet. I plan on spending a few hours tomorrow trying to get the homework done.''

   

    "Cool, hit me up tomorrow when you get done with classes and we can meet up and work on the homework together,'' he said.

   

    "Will do, I will shoot you a text when I am walking out of my last class tomorrow. See you tomorrow.''

   

    I made my way to the elevator and hit the call button. The doors open up to reveal no one inside, so I push my bike into the elevator and hit the button for the first floor. After a short ride, the doors open up and I push my bike towards the exit. Hitting the handicap button by one of the exit doors. I push my bike through the exit and say a silent prayer to myself, thanking God for the Americans with Disabilities Act, or it would be a hassle getting my bike in and out of the building. Walking out of the Wexler Building, the eight-story building that has been my home during the day since moving here, I push my bike to the end of the sidewalk. I hop on my bike and begin my two-mile daily commute to my apartment just off campus.

   

    It is early March and even though I am in the desert climate of Tempe, Arizona, just outside Phoenix. The temperature can still get chilly and thankfully, I have my hoodie on to protect me from the slight chill in the air on my bike ride home.

   

    As I am riding my bike through campus, I think to myself how different Arizona is compared to my home state of Georgia. The place I called home until moving here a little over 18 months ago. The high temperatures never bothered me too much because of the lack of humidity, but the lack of humidity did take me some time to get used to. I definitely had to start using lotion and lip balm regularly to keep my skin from peeling off my body. Looking off into the distance, I can make out one of the sights that make me love this place, the mountains that surround a third of the city.

   

    After a short 10-minute bike ride, I pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex, passing by my parked silver 2011 Toyota 4-runner that I rarely drive during the week. My apartment building is a two-story building, with a stucco exterior with multiple light colors adorning the walls. I hop off my bike at one of the stairwells that lead to my apartment on the second floor. Hoisting my bike over one of my shoulders, I make my way up the stairs and down the catwalk that runs along the front doors to all the apartments. Standing at the door of my home, I unlock the door and push my bike inside.

   

    Walking into my one-bedroom apartment, I lean my bike against one of the chairs of my dining room table. My home is not the most luxurious, but as a single student in my twenties, I made it a very cozy place for me. Furnish by mostly thrift stores and use items off Facebook. The main open floor plan of my apartment has a desk on one side of the front door facing the window, made using two old filing cabinets with a one-inch thick piece of stained hardwood to form the top of the desk. Beside my desk is a large whiteboard mounted on the wall for writing reminders and working on homework. My office area is complete with a nice leather chair. Beside my office area is my living room area complete with a cloth couch with two end tables on either side with lamps and family pictures on top of the tables. In front of my couch is a nice used area rug with a hardwood coffee table stained a dark brown. On the wall opposite my desk is my large flat-screen TV. mounted on the wall itself. On the other side of my front door is the dining area with a white wooden table and four white chairs with wicker seats. The kitchen area consists of a large island with a stove in its center, and cabinets below the counter, and a breakfast bar on the other side. There are three hanging light fixtures above the island. Running along the wall are floor-to-ceiling cabinets with counters and a sink, dishwasher, and refrigerator. The walls are painted off-white with an accent light green painted on the kitchen wall and island. The floors are a composite light wood pattern that runs throughout the apartment. There is an alcove behind the kitchen that leads to the bathroom and the bedroom.

   

    I kick my shoes off by the door and I am greeted with the smell of pot roast that has been cooking in the crock-pot all day while I was at school. I walk through the kitchen into my bedroom. My bedroom consists of a queen-sized bed in its center with a nightstand on one side with a lamp and my wireless phone charger sitting on top. To my right is a large dresser with a lamp and a middle-size flat-screen TV. on top. All the furniture is made of hardwood and stained dark brown to match. Beside the doorway is a closet that runs the length of the wall with large light green sliding doors. Tucked away on one side of the closet is a washer/dryer combo.

   

    Walking to my dresser, I pull out one of the drawers to grab a pair of gray sweats and a white tee shirt. I strip my clothes off from the day and throw them into the hamper beside my dresser. Quickly slipping on my sweats and tee shirt, I can now put the long day behind me. Walking back into my kitchen, I take a small pot from one of the cabinets by my stove and set it on the stovetop. Turning around I reach into my pantry cabinet and grab the half-empty large bag of white rice. Turning the stove on, I mix enough rice and water into the pot to make 4 cups of rice. With twenty minutes to spare, I walk over and collapse on the couch, and grab the remote to turn on Netflix. Flipping through Netflix for about 10 minutes, I could not make up my mind and decided to re-watch Taylor Thomson's latest special. A few minutes into the show, my rice is now done and I get a bowl out of the cabinet by the sink and a fork out of the drawer next to the sink. I serve myself half the cooked rice and take the lid off my crock pot to ladle in a big helping of pot roast with potatoes and carrots.

   

    I sit back down on my couch with my dinner and a can of sparkling water and continue watching my show. I take a bite and savor the flavor of the roast and how tender it is after slow cooking all day. I may not be a chef, but when I set my mind to it, I can always put together a good home-cooked meal. After finishing the bowl and taking a few sips from my beverage, I decide on seconds and finish off the rest of the rice with another helping out of the crock-pot. With my stomach full and my show wrapping up, I go to the sink to rinse out my bowl, and the pot and load them into the dishwasher. Turning my attention to my pot roast, I slid the pot with the lid out of the crock-pot and set it into the refrigerator to heat up and eat off later this week.

   

    With it only being 8 pm I lay back down on the couch and turn on Shane Gillis' latest special. As I lay there watching t.v., I notice that I am getting tired and having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I think to myself, that the day must have taken more out of me than I thought. Deciding to call it an early day, I turn off the TV, throwing the now empty can in the trash, and walk into my bathroom to get ready for bed.

   

    Walking into my small bathroom, with a small white vanity with a sink and a cabinet mounted on the wall above with a built-in mirror, a toilet right beside it, and a bathtub/shower along the wall opposite the door. The bathroom is completed with white walls and light brown tile for flooring. I look into the mirror and see a young man looking back. I am tall, at 6 feet even, with a slim build. I have dark brown hair, a full beard that is kept neatly trimmed, and hazel eyes that seem to change from an almost brown to an almost green color depending on the lighting. I begin my short nightly routine by brushing my teeth and rinsing my mouth out with mouthwash. After spitting a couple of mouthfuls of water from the sink faucet, I look back into the mirror, taking note that my hair is starting to get shaggy. I make a mental note to get a haircut this weekend. I take a pit-stop over to the toilet to empty my bladder and with a quick wash of my hands I move towards my bedroom.

   

    Crawling into bed under the covers, I set my alarm for the morning, noting that it was only 9:30 pm, and set it on the charger. Turning over in bed it only takes me a few minutes to succumb to sleep.

   

    I wake in the middle of the night from a dead sleep, with the immediate need to throw up and throw up now! I bolt from my bed and rush to the bathroom. I make it over the toilet just in time to projectile vomit all over the bowl. My stomach is twisted in knots and feels like it is turning inside out as I throw up the contents of my stomach. When I finally stopped, I took some toilet paper to wipe my mouth with and flushed the toilet. Before the toilet could finish flushing, I was hit with another immediate need. I need to poop and I need to poop now! Turning around and jerking my sweat pants and boxer briefs down, I plant my butt on the toilet seat in time for a massive wave of semi-solid poop to exit my rear.

   

    After sitting on the toilet for a few minutes, I can finally take stock of what is going on. I notice that all my joints ache and I feel like I am coming down with either the flu or a stomach virus. After wiping, I turn around to flush and notice that I pooped a lot. The amount suggests that I have not gone in a few days, even though I had a normal bowel movement the morning before like I do every morning. Stepping over to the sink I wash my hands and wash my mouth out with mouthwash. I step into the kitchen and grab a glass of water to sip on. I walk back to my bedroom with the glass of water. Looking at my phone, the time is shortly after 1 am. I hope to myself that I feel better by tomorrow morning. I crawl back into bed and as soon as my head hits the pillow I pass out.

   

    Waking again, I notice that it is still dark outside and I feel nauseous and I have to poop again. I jump out of bed, run to the bathroom, and sit on the toilet to have my bowels explode into the toilet. As I sit there, I get more nauseated and I have to lean over to the bathtub to throw up what consists of stomach bile into it. Again, my joints ache, and I now have a headache to add to the list. I sit for a moment to collect myself. I wipe, flush, and rinse the tub out. I go to the sink to wash my hands and mouth out and go back to bed.

   

    As I am lying in bed, I think to myself that I am glad I don't have any teaching responsibilities tomorrow, I will definitely need to stay home from school. No less than 5 minutes later I fall back to sleep.

 

[BabySofia]

6 minutes ago, LGGrace said:

draws to grad

"drawers to grab" I think is what you want to say there.

Overall, it's well-written, and I'm looking forward to seeing where you take this. You might try and run it through Grammarly first, it probably would have picked up on that error I noted.

Good start!

[LGGrace]

Thanks Sofia! It means a lot coming for you. Exchanged and Emerald Princess are one of the first ABDL novels that I fell in love with, when I discovered that there was all these ABDL stories on the internet. You and other top writer (Efly, Kat5, MinnesotaWinters, etc) on this site will probably see that y'all influenced my writing.

Thanks for the catch too, after writing the first chapter, I don't think using open source LaTeX is the best for writing this story.

I like that you use famous mathematicians in LCW (Nash and Turing). Would you be okay with me using famous scientist names for some characters later on in the story?

[BabySofia]

19 minutes ago, LGGrace said:

Would you be okay with me using famous scientist names for some characters later on in the story?

I wasn’t the first to do so by any means! (I’ve seen a few authors do that) Go for it!

20 minutes ago, LGGrace said:

I don't think using open source LaTeX is the best for writing this story.

That might explain the odd formatting. Google Docs works well until you reach a certain size. I find downloading from it to an .rtf file copies and pastes well into this site. 

[LGGrace]

I will give Google Docs a try.

[Kaiko-chan]

16 hours ago, BabySofia said:

I wasn’t the first to do so by any means! (I’ve seen a few authors do that) Go for it!

That might explain the odd formatting. Google Docs works well until you reach a certain size. I find downloading from it to an .rtf file copies and pastes well into this site. 

Does doing that keep the formatting? 

I noticed that Google docs formatting doesn't airways carry over. On scribble hub I can use my docs app to transfer and it keeps all my formatting. But when I tried that here it didn't. 

 

Also interesting start, definetly can't wait to read more. 

[BabySofia]

2 hours ago, Kaiko-chan said:

I noticed that Google docs formatting doesn't airways carry over.

Direct from Google Docs does not work. Direct from Microsoft Word also causes problems. Something about downloading it from docs as an .rtf file strips out some extra code that both want to paste into your browser. You can also try paste and match style, but that causes it's own problems most of the time. This and several other of these types of sites have some quirks on the WYSIWIG editors.

[Kaiko-chan]

7 minutes ago, BabySofia said:

Direct from Google Docs does not work. Direct from Microsoft Word also causes problems. Something about downloading it from docs as an .rtf file strips out some extra code that both want to paste into your browser. You can also try paste and match style, but that causes it's own problems most of the time. This and several other of these types of sites have some quirks on the WYSIWIG editors.

Ty of definetly try that out

 

[LGGrace]

   I was bored today with the bad weather in my area, so I decided to go ahead and write chapter 2.  Thanks again Sofia for the tip on using Google Docs and Grammarly. It helped a lot on this chapter.  I edited chapter one and the format should look a lot better.  I am still looking at a slow burn on the diaper content, but after this chapter, there will be plenty of medical drama for the next 5 to 10 chapters.  I say 5 to 10 chapters because I am not sure how detailed I want to go with this and I am trying my best not want to jump ahead to Will in diapers and the many surprises when that happens.

Chapter Two

              I wake up to the alarm on my phone going off. My body and head is still aching.  I reach over and turn my phone alarm off and turn back over to go back to sleep. Waking up again, I roll over and look at my phone to see that it is 9:34 am. With my joints and head still hurting, I gingerly get out of bed. Slipping my phone into my sweatpants pocket and grabbing the empty glass off my nightstand, I slowly make my way to the kitchen to refill my glass in the sink. Reaching into the cabinet above my sink, I get out a bottle of Tylenol. Taking two pills out of the bottle, I knock them back with a sip of water. Hoping that the pills take care of my aches and pains, I down the rest of the glass of water.

    I make my way to my couch and lay down with the remote in hand. Turning on the TV, I go to my Hulu account to watch reruns of Always Sunny.  Hopefully, the antics of Dennis, Frank, Charlie, Dee, and Mac will put me in a better mood. As I am about halfway through the first episode of the gang trying to solve gun control, I start to get nauseous and sleepy.  Before the episode could even finish, I fell asleep.

    My eyes shoot open, I bolt from the couch to the bathroom and fall to my knees in front of the toilet just in time to vomit a mixture of bile, water, and the two half-digested Tylenol pills. After wiping my mouth with toilet paper and flushing the toilet, I use the vanity counter to pull myself from my knees to my feet.  I rinse my mouth out and wash my hands. Before I could make it back to the couch, I got the overwhelming need to poop. I turn on my heels and make a B-line for the toilet. With my butt cheeks clenched, I yank my pants down in front of the toilet and slam my rear end on the seat. With only a few moments to spare, a packed colon's worth of mud came out of me. After sitting on the toilet for a few minutes, I decided that my bowels must be empty. I wipe, flush, then wash my hands, and make my way back to the couch.

    Sitting on the couch, I pull my phone out of my pocket to see what time it is. Looking at my phone I see that it is a little past noon and think to myself, ‘Crap, I was supposed to meet up with Steven after classes today to work on homework.’ Opening up my messenger app, I pull up the text conversation with Steven.

    I texted, “Hey man, I think I have a stomach virus or something. I did not go to class today and will not be able to meet up to work on homework. I have been talking on the big white phone most of last night and today.”

    I set my phone on the coffee table and lay back down on the couch. The TV is still playing episodes of Always Sunny, granted I slept through the last few episodes. I hear my phone ding and see the screen light up on the coffee table. Grabbing my phone, I see that it is a text from Steven.

    “No worries man, get better soon.”

    Setting my phone down, my eyes turn back to the TV, but my mind starts thinking about what I need to do tomorrow. I realize, that even if I feel better by tomorrow morning, it is probably best that I stay home for another day.  I am scheduled to run the tutoring center tomorrow morning from 9 am to 10:45 am. I also have a calculus recitation class to teach from 11 am to 12:15 pm.  Luckily, I am giving a quiz that will take up the last 45 minutes of class. It would probably be best if I go ahead and email Professor Martin Lau, the instructor of the main lecture classes so that the department could get someone to fill in for me.

    I get up and walk over to my desk where my backpack is leaning against one of the filing cabinets.  Unzipping the compartment that holds my laptop, I pull it out and walk back over to sit on my couch. Opening up my laptop, I wait a moment for it to boot up. When the screen cuts on, I am greeted with my home screen asking for my PIN to log in.  After entering my 4-digit PIN, I open up my browser to login to my university email account.  Composing a new email, I enter Professor Lau’s email address and I also decide to cc Amy, the department admin on this email too, just in case.  I flagged the email as urgent with the subject line being tomorrow's class and the tutoring center. In the body of the email I wrote:

    “Professor Lau,

    It seems that I have come down with a stomach virus and will not be able to work tomorrow at the tutoring center at my scheduled time. I also will not be able to teach my recitation class tomorrow at 11 am.  I have planned for the first 30 minutes of class to be where students could ask questions about the current homework assignment and if they did not have any questions, I was going to review integration-by-parts during that time. For the last 45 minutes, I have a quiz for them to take that is on the previous two weeks of material. I have attached both the pdf and tex versions of the quiz to this email.

    -Will”

    After I attached the quiz files to the email, I hit send, closed my laptop, and set it on the coffee table by my phone. 

    With my body and head still aching, I lay back down on the couch and continued to watch TV. Within 30 minutes, I fell back to sleep. 

    I wake to my phone ringing on the coffee table. Picking up the phone, I see that it is my mom calling and that it is 5 pm.  Realizing that today is Wednesday and my mom always calls me around dinner time in her time zone of Georgia on Wednesday.  I answered the phone with a groggy, “Hey Mom.”

    In a cheery voice, she said, “ Hey Will, just calling to see how your week has been going?”

    I responded with, “It was going well until late last night, I have been throwing up, and my joints and head have hurt since then.”

    With concern in her voice, “Was it something you ate? How much fluids have you been drinking? Have you eaten anything today? What are you doing about school?”

    With the rapid fire of questions, I collected my thoughts and answered, “I don’t think it was something I ate. I ate a pot roast last night that I have cooked countless times with no problems. I only had one glass of water today, and I ended up vomiting later on with the Tylenol that I took. I have not eaten anything today and I have sent an email out and should be covered for tomorrow.”

    After answering all her questions, I hear silence on the line.

    After a few moments, my mom responded, “Honey, this is not good, not being able to keep down water is not good. You need to see a doctor as soon as possible.  And don’t make me fly there and take you myself.”

    With a groan at the mention of doctors, I said, “If I don’t feel better by tomorrow morning or if I get worse, I will go to the ER.”

    With a slightly better tone in her voice, she said, “Please do, and try to eat something gentle on your stomach tonight with some water. Please let me know if anything changes and if you need me. Your father and I will be on the next flight out there if you need us.”

    “Thanks mom, I will try and eat something tonight.”

    My mom then said, “Call me tomorrow regardless if you feel better just to let me know that you are OK. And if anything comes up you can call me or your father, even if it is in the middle of the night.”

    Feeling grateful for my parents, I said, “Thanks, mom. I will talk to you tomorrow. I love you.”

    She responded back, “I love you too Will, remember to call me tomorrow.”

    Hanging up my phone, I look at the screen and see an email notification from Professor Lau. Opening up the email, I see it reads, “Don’t worry about tomorrow, we will have everything covered. Get some rest and I hope you feel better soon.”

    With everything taken care of tomorrow, I let out a breath of relief. I turn my attention back to the TV. and let my mind wander as I veg out to more Always Sunny. As I notice that it is starting to get dark outside, I get up and move to my kitchen to make good on my word that I would try and eat something tonight.

    Opening up my pantry cabinet, I began looking for something that would be light on my stomach. After looking for a few minutes, I decided on instant grits. Taking a packet out of the box and grabbing a bowl out of the cabinet, I pour the contents of the packet into the bowl.  With my stomach the way it is, I use half a cup of water to mix with the grits instead of milk like I usually do.  After stirring the grits and water together with a spoon, I place it in the microwave for one minute to heat up. Grabbing a clean glass from the cabinet I fill it up with water from the sink. After the microwave beeps, I take the bowl of grits out and stir it with the spoon. Taking the bowl of grits and a glass of water, I make it back to the couch.

    Sitting on the couch, I slowly eat the bowl of grits and sip on the glass of water.  After a few minutes, all the grits are gone, along with half the glass of water.  Laying back down, I continue to watch TV as my eyes get heavy and I fall asleep.

    I wake up and it is still dark outside. I am met with the intense need to both poop and throw up.  I make a mad dash to the bathroom and launch my butt onto the toilet seat.  An eruption from my bowels comes out and a moment later I am leaning over to projectile vomit into the bathtub.  After dry heaving for a few minutes, I sit back up and try to catch my breath.  Both my head and joints are throbbing and it takes me a few minutes to get the energy to wipe both my face and bottom with toilet paper.  I slowly get up and lean over the vanity to wash my hands, rinse out my mouth, and brush my teeth.  Without even thinking, I slowly make my way to my bed and collapse on top of my blanket and sheets. Moments after my head hits the pillow, I pass out.

    I wake up to it being light outside, my head and joints are still throbbing.  Using almost all of my energy, I get out of bed and make it to the couch to look at my phone that was sitting on the coffee table from the previous night. Looking at the screen, I see that it is 8:12 am.  At that moment, I reluctantly decided that I needed to go to the ER.  I pull up maps and look for the closest hospital.  The results show that St. Luke’s is only 4 miles away.  Looking down I notice that I have been wearing the same sweats since the night before and I have not taken a shower since the morning before all this started.

    I get up with my phone in hand and walk into my bedroom to put it on charge. Walking into the bathroom, I turn on the water to the shower and strip my clothes off.  Checking to see if the water is warm enough, I step under the water and lean against the wall of the shower.  I stand under the water for a few minutes, letting the warm water run down my head and body.  With some determination, I take some shampoo and quickly wash my hair and some body wash and wash my armpits, crotch, and butt.  After rinsing off, I grab a towel off of the towel rack beside the shower and dry off.  Stepping out of the shower with the towel around my waist, I step in front of the vanity.  Taking a comb, I begin to comb my hair.  As I combed my hair, I noticed something odd.  I have always been able to grow a thick full beard since I was in my early twenties, but looking at my face, it looks like my beard is thinning.  I also noticed that I have dark bags under my eyes. Shaking that thought from my mind, I walk into my bedroom to get dressed.

    Opening up my dresser, I take out another set of sweats, an old surf shop tee shirt, and a pair of boxer briefs.  I slowly get dressed, trying my best not to fall over in the process due to how weak and tired I feel.  I have to tie the drawstrings as tight as possible, taking note that I definitely lost some weight over the past 48 hours.  I take an extra set of clothes from out of my dresser, my phone, and my charger, and walk into my living room area.

    I grab my backpack by my desk and empty all of its contents to pack for my hopefully short trip to the ER.  I repack the bag with my laptop and charger, my extra set of clothes, and my phone charger.  I slip on my shoes and sling my backpack over my shoulder.  As I am putting my phone, keys, and wallet into my sweatpants pockets, I notice that my pant legs seem to bunch up around my shoes more than usual.

    I open the front door to my apartment and walk out into the blinding sun.  Turning around, I close the door and lock it.  I make my way down the catwalk to the stairwell.  I take my time walking down the stairs, with one hand firmly on the railing.  There is a slight fear that I may fall due to my current condition.  Making my way across the parking lot to my SUV, I unlock my 4-runner with the key fob.  Opening up the driver-side door, I toss my backpack onto the front passenger seat.  Sitting down in the driver seat, I close my door and start up my car.  Taking out my phone, I look up the directions to the parking garage next to St. Luke’s ER.  With the drive being only 6 minutes, I back out of my parking spot and start my short drive.  As I am pulling out of the parking lot, I think to myself that this day is going to suck.

[BabySofia]

Definite improvements on the formatting and I didn’t see any errors either. Good start to this, looking forward to more!

[LGGrace]

Thanks for the comment!

I've been pretty busy today and tomorrow is not looking much better.  I should have time to write and post CH 3 by Friday night.  Based on writing the first two chapters, it takes me about 6 hours to write a chapter.  It probably helped that I did not have to stop for potty breaks. 🤣

[LGGrace]

Chapter Three

              I pulled up to the entrance of the parking garage a short drive later, cussing to myself for leaving my sunglasses on my kitchen counter.  Between the blinding sun and my splitting headache, driving was a real challenge.  Rolling my window down, I reached over to the parking ticket machine and hit the button to print off a ticket stub.  After grabbing the ticket, the automatic gate arm swung up to allow me in.  The first floor was full, but after driving up to the second floor, I was able to find a parking spot near the stairs.  After parking my car, I turned the engine off and grabbed my backpack.  Slipping out of the car, I slung one of my backpack straps over my shoulder and locked up my vehicle.

I slowly made my way down the stairs and over to the entrance to the Emergency Room.  At the pace I was going, it probably took me just as long to get to the main entrance as it took me to drive to the hospital.  Walking through the sliding glass doors, I look around to see a large waiting area with rows of metal chairs with hard plastic seats and backrests.  Looking back in front of me, there is a large reception desk with the front high enough for people to use while standing and the back looks to be of a regular height for the staff with a few computers set up.  Making my way over, I see that there is only one person on the other side of the desk.  It is a woman who looks to be in her mid to late thirties, with blond hair tied up in a bun.  She has blue eyes and is wearing light blue scrubs.  By the time I make it over to her, I am so tired that I need to use the front of the counter to help support my weight. 

Before I had the chance to speak, she looked up and greeted me with, “How may I help you today?”

“I have been throwing up since Tuesday night, I have not been able to keep anything down, including water.  I have been having a lot of bowel movements too, despite the fact I have not been eating anything.  I have a bad headache and my joints are aching too.”

She responds, “I'm sorry to hear that, can I please get your full name and date of birth.”

“My name is William Gauss, and my date of birth is May 12, 1996.”

She said, “OK, one moment.”

I see her typing away on her computer, and then a few moments later, a sheet comes out of the printer next to her.  Taking the sheet off the printer, she peels a sticker off and sticks it onto a plain white hospital bracelet. Looking back up at me, she asked me to stick out my right arm and then attach the bracelet around my wrist. 

While handing me the sheet of paper that she printed off, she said, “Please keep this with you for staff to use later on.”

Looking down, I see that it is made up of rows and columns of stickers with barcodes, my name, and my date of birth.  Looking at my new bracelet, I see that it has the same thing on it. 

I ask, “Do you have one of those vomit bags?  I worried about making it to the bathroom in time if I got sick.”

She said, “Sure, one second.”

I see her get up, walk around the corner, where it looks like the triage area is, and comes back with a green plastic ring and hands it to me.  Looking at the plastic ring, it has a green bag bunched up inside it to where it can extend like a sock. 

She then said, “We are not too busy this morning and it shouldn’t be a long wait to be seen.”

I thanked her and made my way over to a seat that is near the restroom.  With great relief, I sit down and set my backpack on the floor beside me.  Thinking that I should let my parents know that I am at the ER, I pull my phone out of my pocket. I start a group text with both my mom and dad and text them, “I am at the ER. I threw up again last night.  I feel worse than yesterday but still have the same symptoms.  I will let you know what the doctor says after I am seen.”

              I put my phone back in my pocket and settled back into the uncomfortable chair.  Resting my eyes for a moment, I feel my phone vibrant multiple times in my pocket.  Pulling my phone back out of my pocket, I see that I got both a text from Mom and Dad.  They both responded with variations of calling them as soon as I saw the doctor.  I text them back, that I will.  After putting my phone back into my pocket, I go back to trying to rest my eyes while I wait to be seen.  Within about 10 minutes of waiting, I start to feel the need to go to the bathroom. Not wanting to chance having an accident, I gather my belongings and head to the restroom.  I open the door to the restroom and see that it is a small group restroom with nobody inside.  Consisting of three sinks, a urinal, a regular stall, and a handicap stall, I push the door open to the regular stall. 

As soon as I see the toilet, I feel the need to poop increase immediately.  Not wanting to waste any time, I set my backpack down and pulled my pants down to sit on the toilet.  With very little effort, my bowels unleash another colon’s worth of mud.  After waiting a few minutes to make sure I was done, I wiped my bottom, flushed, and gathered back up my belongings.  I exit the stall and walk over to the sink to wash my hands.  After drying off my hands, I leave the restroom and make it back to my seat to continue waiting to be seen.

As I am sitting down and waiting, I feel myself nod in and out of consensus.  For what could have been either 20 minutes or an hour, my eyes snapped open to the sound of someone saying, “William Gauss.”  I look over to where I heard the voice coming from to see a nurse wearing the same light blue scrubs as the intake woman.  She is standing near, where I assume is the triage area from before.  Making my way to her, I notice that she has brown hair up in a ponytail and dark brown eyes. 

As I approach her, I am greeted by her saying, “Hi my name is Sandy and I will be getting your visit started today.  Please follow me.”

I nod and follow behind her.  Walking around the corner, my suspicions are correct and it is a triage area.  I see a couple of chairs along one of the walls, some medical equipment mounted on the wall above, a scale in one of the corners, and a small table on wheels with a laptop sitting on top.  She gestures for me to take a seat in one of the chairs and then sits on a stool with wheels. 

Rolling up in front of me she asked, “What brings you to the emergency room today?”

I proceeded to tell her about my symptoms over the last two days as she is taking notes on her laptop. 

She then stated, “Well it is a good thing that you came in, at the very least to get fluids. You are probably very dehydrated.  I am now going to take your vitals.”

She then takes my blood pressure and temperature.  After recording on her laptop she said, “Your temperature is normal at 98.4 and your blood pressure is a little elevated, at 132 over 74, but that is normal for someone needing to visit the ER.  Let’s now get your height and weight.”

I get up and walk over to the scale.  Standing on the scale, she starts to slide the different weights across the beams.  When the scale is balanced, I look at the number with shock.  I now only weigh 135 pounds.  She then measured my height and asked me to sit back down.

Sitting back down at her laptop she states, “I have you recorded at a 135 pounds and 5 foot 10 inches.”

With concern in my voice, I say, “Are you sure?”

She responds, “Yes, is there a problem?”

Trying not to trip over my words, I say, “I expected to have lost some weight, but I usually weigh 155 pounds.  I also should be 6 feet even, I have been that height since I started 11th grade.”

Pausing for a moment, she looked at me and said, “Well that is something to take note of.  I will make a note in your file.”

As she is typing on her laptop, I can tell by her body language alone, that this is not normal.  But she, remaining professional, is trying not to worry me.  A few minutes later, she asked me to follow her. Walking behind her, I see that she is taking me back into the main area of the emergency room.  We pass what looks to be a nurse’s station and small rooms for other patients.  She leads me to a room with the door open.  Stepping inside, I see that it will be the room that I will be staying in while I am here.  The room is simple with a single-size hospital bed with side railings that can be raised and lowered, a table on wheels that can be used to eat off of in bed, and a single chair in the corner.  On the bed, I can see a folded hospital gown and a pair of grippy hospital socks.

Turning to me, she said, “Please undress and put on the gown.  A nurse who will be taking care of you for the rest of your visit will be here in a few minutes.  I hope you feel better soon.”

Despite how bad I feel, I muster up a small smile and thank her.  With that, she turns around, leaves, and shuts the door behind her.  I immediately toss my backpack onto the chair and set the page of barcode stickers and vomit bag on the table.  I take my sweatshirt and tee shirt off, fold them up, and set them on the table.  I don the gown and with a little difficulty, tying the ties on the back of the gown together.  After slipping my shoes off, I put on the hospital socks since I didn’t put on socks this morning.  I go and open the door to the room and take a seat on the bed.  After waiting a few minutes, there is a knock on the door frame.

Coming in is a nurse with a large white cart. The cart has cabinets on its lower half with drawers occupying the top half.  On top is a laptop.  The nurse is wearing light blue scrubs like the rest of the staff, she has black hair and green eyes.

When she gets into the room, she introduces herself, “Good morning William, my name is Cathy and I will be taking care of you today.”

I responded, “Hi Cathy, you can just call me Will.”

Cathy said, “Certainly, Will, I see that you are having trouble with your stomach and have body and headaches.  I want to start by getting a quick medical history.”

She then proceeded to ask me about my medical history, luckily, it was very short, with only a few ER visits in my lifetime.  She next asked me about allergies, which I have none.  Then onto occupation, which I say that I am a full-time grad student at ASU. Finally, she asked me about smoking, alcohol, and recreational drugs.  I responded with no to all but having a few drinks a few times a month.

After she finished taking all my information down, she states, “I am going to now start an I.V. for you with some fluids.  Are you right-handed or left-handed?” 

I said, “I’m right-handed.”

Cathy then said, “Alright, I am going to put the I.V. in your left arm.”

She pulls out an I.V. needle, alcohol swab, and rubber tourniquet.  She wraps the tourniquet around my upper arm and wipes down the underside of my forearm with the swab.  With the needle in hand, she finds a vein and says, “Big pinch.”  With morbid fascination, I watch as the needle slowly enters my arm. After putting tape over the I.V., she takes all the trash from putting in my I.V., then takes a bag of fluids from the cart.  She then scans the barcode on the bag of fluids and then scans my hospital bracelet.  After setting up the bag on the I.V. poll and connecting it to my I.V. She presses some buttons on the machine on the I.V.  pole that regulates the flow of fluids. 

Walking back to her cart she states, “I started pumping you with fluids, and the whole liter will be in you in about an hour.  With how dehydrated you are, it should make you feel a little better.  The doctor will see you soon and in the meantime, if you need anything, you can press the call button and I will be here as soon as possible.”

I thank her, and she pushes the cart back out of my room and leaves the door ajar.  Deciding to rest while I wait, I raise the head of the bed into a reclined position, lean back, and shut my tired eyes for a minute. 

I awakened to a knock on the door.  Walking into my room, I see a woman in her forties wearing green scrubs and a white lab coat.  She has shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes. 

With a smile, she said, “I’m Dr. Richerson and I will be your attending doctor today.”

While looking at a tablet in her hand, she states, “It looks like you are here for vomiting, irregular bowel movements, joint/body aches, and headaches.”

I nod and while looking at the almost empty bag of fluids, notice that my head does not hurt as much as before.  I then said, “Well, I think the fluids are helping, my head does not hurt as bad as before.”

She nodded, then said, “On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being a slight tickle and 10 being your arm being cut off, how much pain are you in?”

“I think it would be about a 5.  I am in a lot of pain, but it is not agonizing.”

She asked, “Have you tried taking any over-the-counter pain medicine?”

“I tried taking Tylenol yesterday, but ended up just throwing it back up.”

She said, “I will put in an order to get you some I.V. pain medicine,  In the meantime, I want to do a physical exam of you.”

Taking her stethoscope, she pulls my gown up and listens to my heart, lungs, and stomach.  After pulling my gown back down, she said, “I don’t see or hear anything abnormal from the physical exam.  Without running a fever, it does not appear to be an obvious infection.  It is worrying, that it is noted that you have lost about 20 pounds and 2 inches in height.  It is normal to get a few inches shorter throughout a lifetime, but you being a healthy 27-year-old, should not be getting shorter yet.  I am going to order a CT scan of your abdomen, legs, and arms.  I am also going to order a blood panel test and urine test.  As far as the headaches, I do believe it is just from severe dehydration, getting more fluids should help with that.”

I said, “It definitely was shocking when I got weighed and measured earlier.”

She responded, “After all of the test results come back in, we should be able to find out what is going on.  Your nurse will be back shortly to start getting you ready for the test.”

I thank the nice doctor and she walks back out of my room.  A few minutes later, Cathy comes back into my room with the large cart.  She said, “Well, it seems that Dr. Richerson has put in the order to run some tests and give you some pain medicine.”

I nod in agreement.  I then see her pull out a syringe from one of the drawers, scans it, then scans my bracelet again. 

She then said, “This is a low dose of morphine, this should help with your pain.” 

As soon as she pushes the syringe into my I.V., I start to feel relief and my body starts to relax.  With the constant pain I was in, and the morphine taking it away, I finally realized the scale of pain I was in before.  Cathy walks back to the cart and I can see that she is getting the supplies needed to draw blood samples.  Walking back to my right side, she sets all the supplies beside me on the bed. 

She then said, “I am going to draw some blood for the blood panel test.”

After saying “OK”, she then goes through the process of tying a tourniquet around my upper arm, wiping my forearm with an alcohol swab, and drawing three vials of blood.  With the blood drawn, she throws all the medical waste away and takes three of the stickers off the sheet to label the vials, and puts it on her cart.  She then grabs a small clear cup with a lid, takes another sticker on it, and sets it on the table.

Turning to me she said, “This cup is for a urine sample, I know you are pretty dehydrated, but as soon as you need to go, there is a bathroom down the hallways near the nurse’s station that you can use.  Once you have the sample, you can leave it at the nurse’s station.  There will be someone here shortly to take you to get a CT scan.”

With that statement, she pushes the cart back out of my room.  Alone with my thoughts, I can finally think a little more clearly with the morphine and the fluids taking my mind off of the constant headache and body aches.  I have a sinking feeling in my gut that this is not going to be an easy fix.  Before I can let my mind go to worst-case scenarios, an orderly walks in pushing a wheelchair.  The orderly is a man wearing the same light blue scrubs as all the other nurses and he looks to be in his early twenties with brown hair and brown eyes.

He looked at me and said, “Are you William Gauss?”

I said, “Yes.”

He then said, “I’m here to take you to get a CT scan, can you please sit in the wheelchair.”

With just a nod, I slowly get out of bed and sit in the wheelchair.  At the same time, he takes my I.V. bag and pump and attaches it to the I.V. poll on the back of the wheelchair.  Moments later, I am being wheeled down the hallway to radiology.  Pulling up to radiology, the orderly parked the wheelchair and said to me that someone would be with me shortly and then walked away.

A minute later, the radiologist walks out and introduces himself.  He is in his thirties and is wearing a darker blue set of scrubs than all the other staff that I have seen.  He has black hair, glasses, and brown eyes. 

He said, “My name is Sean and I will be giving you a CT scan today, is your name William Gauss?”

I said, “Yes, but you can call me Will”

He responds, “Let's get started, it should only take about 15 minutes.”

He then pushes my wheelchair into an almost empty room with the CT machine in the middle.  He wheels me up to where the table is to lay down on.  He then instructs me to lie down on the table and with a little help I am situated on the table.  I then see him walk to a side room with a large viewing window. 

Over the intercom, I hear, “Alright Will, I am going to start your CT scan, there will be times that I will ask you to hold your breath to get a good image.  Please stay as still as possible and we should be able to get you on your way as soon as possible.”

Moments later, the table started moving.  He processed to scan me as I listened to his commands to hold my breath at certain intervals; all the while, trying to stay as still as possible.  True to his word, I was sitting back outside of radiology, 15 minutes later, waiting for an orderly to come and take me back to my room.  I see the same orderly walk back up to me and takes me back to my room.

As soon as I get settled back in my room, I get the need to pee.  Getting out of bed, I unplug the I.V. pump and push the I.V. pole over to the table to grab the urine sample cup.  I then make my way down the corridor to the bathroom.  Opening up the restroom, which just has a toilet and sink, I shut the door behind me and stood in front of the toilet.  I take the lid off of the cup and set it on the sink.  With my free hand, I pull my sweatpants down and lift my gown up.  I start to empty my bladder into the toilet then take the cup to collect a sample.  After getting a sample, I notice that my urine is a dark shape of yellow, almost brown.  Thinking to myself that I must be very dehydrated and then realizing that this was the first time that I peed since Tuesday night before bed.  I flush the toilet, pull my sweatpants back up and screw the lid tight onto the cup.  After washing my hands, I exit the bathroom pushing my I.V. pole, with sample cup in hand, to the nurse’s station. 

As soon as I set the cup down on the counter, I am hit with the need to poop.  Without wasting any time, I bolt back to the bathroom, shut the door, and yank my pants down.  Sitting on the toilet while holding up my gown, I release another mudslide into the toilet.  After waiting a moment to make sure I am done, I wipe, flush, and wash my hands again.  I make it back to my room and after plugging back in my I.V. pump, I lay back down in bed.  As soon as I start to get comfortable and shut my eyes, Cathy walks into the room.

With a bag of fluids in one hand and a paper cup in the other, she said, “Hi Will, I saw that you left me a urine sample.  I have another bag of fluids to give you since your current bag is almost empty and Dr. Richerson wants to try and see if you can keep anything down.  I have a hot cup of plain chicken broth for you to drink.”

Setting the cup on the table beside me, she goes to the other side of the bed to switch out the bag of fluids.  After reminding me that if I need anything to hit the call button, she walks back out of my room.  I take the cup in my hand and begin to sip on the warm broth.  After a few minutes, the cup is empty; I set it back down on the table and lay back down.  With the warm broth in my stomach, I fall asleep almost immediately. 

My eyes shoot open and I am met with the impending need to vomit.  I reach over to the table and grab the vomit bag and projectile vomit all of the chicken broth backup into the bag.  After catching my breath, I reached over and hit the call button.  A few minutes later, Cathy walks back into the room.  Seeing me with a bag full of vomit, she said, “I will be right back.”  A minute later, she walks back in with a new vomit bag and a cup.

She said, “Well it was worth a try.  Here is some water to wash your mouth out with.”

I take the cup, take a sip, swish it around in my mouth, then spit it into the used bag. She hands me a napkin that I use to wipe my mouth with and throw it into the bag.  She then takes the used bag from me and throws it away.

I ask, “How much longer until I get my results back.”

Cathy said, “We are still waiting on the blood work and urine sample results to come back. As soon as those results are in, Dr. Richerson will review them and will come and talk to you about your results.”

I thanked her and laid back down and fell back asleep.   I wake up to someone gently shaking my shoulder.  I open my eyes and see that it is Dr. Richerson.

“Hey Will, sorry for waking you, I got all your test results back and want to go over them with you.”

I said, “That is alright, I am ready to know what is going on with me.”

She stated, “Well, your results were a little off.  Your urine sample shows high levels of calcium.  Looking at your blood work, it also shows high levels of calcium and creatine kinase.  Your CT scan shows that there are no issues with your abdomen, but all your joints that were scanned show signs of inflammation.”

With a slight catch in my voice, “What … does this mean?”

She responds, “Your results are a little inconclusive, but it does look like some kind of autoimmune response.  With the high levels of calcium and creatine kinase, it looks like your body is attacking its bones and muscles.  We will have to run more tests to find out what exactly is going on.  Also with you unable to eat and drink on your own, I am going to have to admit you into the hospital.”

[BabySofia]

7 hours ago, LGGrace said:

She stated, “Well, your results were a little off.  Your urine sample shows high levels of calcium.  Looking at your blood work, it also shows high levels of calcium and creatine kinase.  Your CT scan shows that there are no issues with your abdomen, but all your joints that were scanned show signs of inflammation.”

I like the way you handled this here! I suspected we were looking at a AR virus type of story from the last couple chapters, always enjoy something in that genre that's well written. This one has a lot of potential! Looking forward to more! 🙂

[LGGrace]

Thanks for the comment Sofia. Without giving anything away, Will definitely doesn't have some type of AR infection. I wanted this illness to only affect him and no one else.

[dmavn]

really liking this so far and can’t wait to read more..

 

Just found one little typo on line 47..

”After putting my phone back into my phone, I go back to trying to rest my eyes while I wait to be seen.”

[LGGrace]

Thanks dmavn, I should have another chapter out this weekend. 

Good catch, I'll fix it soon.

[Kaiko-chan]

I'm liking the slower more methodical nature of these chapters. Really can't wait to read more. 

[LGGrace]

Thanks, Kaiko-chan.  I was cursing at myself last night though.  When I write a chapter, I know points A and B, and the plot in between, but this chapter ended up being about 1500 words longer than expected.  I ended up staying up 2 hours past my bedtime to finish it.

[Kaiko-chan]

Sometimes that happens, like you can't really find a good break point. Then the chapter goes long. Though I didn't really see anything you could trim without messing up what you wanted to say. 

[LGGrace]

Here is another long chapter, it is still a slow build, but as Will gets sicker, the pace of the story timeline will speed up since this is from his perspective.  I will have some time jumps later on in the story since this story takes place over the course of around 9 months and the epilogue takes place around 18 months from the start of the story.  As much as a War and Peace length ABDL novel would be fun to read, I do not have the patience or creative skills to attempt to write one.

Chapter 4

‘Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, SHIT!’ I thought to myself as I was listening to Dr. Richerson.  What is going to happen to me?  Am I going to be able to go back to school soon?  If I get too far behind, will I have to withdraw for the semester?  What’s going to happen to my assistantship?  Before I could cause myself to start having a panic attack, I heard Dr. Richerson’s voice.

“Will, I know this is a lot to take in, but you will be in good hands.  I am going to get the nurse to get you ready to be moved up to a room.  There will be a specialist that will see you tomorrow and we plan on running more tests to get an exact cause.”

In a quiet voice, as I was staring at my lap, I said, “OK, … thanks.”

Dr. Richerson gently placed her hand on my shoulder and said, “It will be alright, we are going to give you plenty of fluids and pain medicine as needed to keep you comfortable.  Once you are settled in your new room, get some rest tonight and we will figure this out tomorrow.”

With a small smile, I looked up at Dr. Richerson, and said, “Thank you, doctor.”

With a little squeeze of my shoulder, she then walked out of my room.  A few minutes later, Cathy walked in and said, “It looks like you are going to stay with us a little longer.  I am going to disconnect your I.V. and your nurse upstairs will connect you to a new I.V. when you get moved to your new room.”

I nod and she quickly disconnects the I.V. line and turns off the pump.  She then asked, “Are those all your personal belongings?”

I said, “Yes,” as I sat up and swung my legs over to hang off the side of the bed.  She then walks over and gets my backpack off of the chair and hands it to me.  She then grabs all my belongings off of the table and sets them on the bed beside me.

She then said, “Someone will be here soon to take you up to your room.  I hope you get better soon.”

With her departing words, she walks back out of the room.  I then stuff all of my clothes and shoes into my backpack.  A few minutes later, the same orderly from earlier walks with a wheelchair. 

He said, “I’m here to take you upstairs to your room.”

I nod and stand up with my backpack in hand, and sit in the wheelchair while placing my backpack on my lap.  Pushing me out of the room, we make our way down a few corridors and then to an elevator.  He hits the call button, and then a moment later the door slides open.  Pushing me into the elevator, he hits the button for the 3rd floor.  A minute later the door slides back open and I am being pushed down another hallway.  We passed by a nurse’s station and then arrived at an open door with the room number 325 on the signage beside it. 

Pushing me into the room, I see that it is a typical hospital room with a bed in the center, a table with wheels, a chair that can recline in one corner, another straight-back chair in the other, a TV mounted on the wall opposite of the bed and a whiteboard mounted below that is marked with the date, the doctor, the nurse, medication and diet.  The orderly stops the wheelchair beside the bed and helps me get up and sit back down on the bed with my backpack sitting beside me.  He then leaves with the wheelchair.  Looking around the room again, I notice a bathroom off to the side near the room door.  From my vantage point, with the door open, I see that there is a counter with a sink, a toilet, and a shower with a tub.  Looking back to the other side of the room, there is a large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the city of Tempe. 

After sitting for about 15 minutes, I hear a knock at the door.  Turning to look who it is, I see a tall, slim woman wearing light pink scrubs who looks to be about my age.  She has long blonde hair, tied up in a high ponytail and blue eyes.  In one of her hands, she is holding a bag of fluids. 

She said, “Hi, my name is Rachael and I will be your nurse; you must be William.”

I said, “Yes, but you can call me Will.”

With a smile, “I'm going to get you started on fluids.”

Within a minute, she had me hooked back up to a bag of fluids.  She then said, “You are going to be staying with us for the night, so you might as well get comfortable.  Can I set your bag on the chair, so that you can lay down?”

I nod and she takes my bag and sets it down for me.  I swing my legs into bed and lay back.

She then said, “I saw in your chart that you are to be given pain meds as needed.  Do you need any now?”

I said, “I am fine for right now.”

She then responds, “Well, if you need any later, you can press the call button on the remote.  The remote also controls the bed and TV as well.  I will be here until 7 tonight, then there will be a nurse taking over for the night, but I will be back at 7 in the morning.”

I thanked her and then she walked back out of my room.  Deciding to take her advice, I empty my pockets of my keys, wallet, and phone.  I set my keys and wallet on the table beside the bed and unlocked my phone.  Looking at the screen, I see that it is 5:46 pm and think where has this day gone?  My next thought is that I am going to have to call my parents.  Thinking, ‘Well let’s get this phone call out the way.’  I hit the screen to call her and waited for her to answer as it was ringing.

I hear my mom answer and say, “Hey Will, what did the doctors say?’

I said, “Well, they are not exactly sure what is going on.  They think it is some sort of autoimmune thing.  They admitted me into the hospital and I am supposed to see a specialist tomorrow.”

My mom then said, “Did they give you any more information? Do they know why you are throwing up?”

I responded, “They said that the CT scan showed that all my joints were inflamed, but my abdomen looked fine.  With the bloodwork results, it looks like my body is attacking my bones and muscles.  The weirdest thing was that somehow I am now a 135 pounds and 5 foot 10 inches.”

I hear a pause on the line, then in the background, I hear my dad say, “WHAT? You lost 2 inches and lost 20 pounds.”

At that exact moment, my stomach started turning and I got the need to poop again.  Without wasting any time, I almost shouted into the phone, “Mom, Dad, I have to go to the bathroom now, I will call you back.”

I tossed my phone on the bed beside me and rolled out of bed. Unplugging the I.V. pump, I grabbed the I.V. pole and pushed it into the bathroom with me.  Closing the door behind me, I sit on the toilet and again poop an almost ungodly amount.  After wiping, flushing, and washing my hands; I push the door open and slowly make my way back to bed.  Plugging back in the I.V. pump, I lay back in bed and grab my phone.  Looking at my phone, I see that I am still on the line with my parents.

I said, “Hello, are y’all still there?”

I hear my mom say, “Yes, what happened, are you alright?’

I said, “Yeah, it’s just anytime I have to go to the bathroom, I need to go almost immediately.”

My mom said, “Well have they done anything to help with your symptoms?”

I said, “Yes, the fluids have helped with my headache; they think that I was just dehydrated.  They have given me pain meds for my joint aches.  They tried letting me drink some chicken broth today, but I just threw it back up.”

My mom said, “Well, me and your father plan on being on the next flight out there tomorrow.”

I quickly replied, “Y’all don’t need to fly all the way out here, I should hopefully get some answers tomorrow.”

In a stern voice, my dad said, “Son, you lost 20 pounds and 2 inches in height, you have not been able to eat or drink in two days, and you don’t have any other family members within a thousand miles of you.  We will be there tomorrow.  I don’t want to hear any ifs, ands, or buts.”

In a meek voice, I said, “OK.”

My mom then asked, “What hospital are you staying at?”

I replied, “Tempe St. Luke’s, I am staying in room 325 right now.”

My mom said, “Okay, we will see you tomorrow, get some rest and text or call us if anything changes.  We love you.”

I said, “I love y’all too.”

Hanging up, I set my phone down on the table.  I take the remote turn the TV on and start to surf through the channels.  With it being basic cable, there is not much to watch, so I settle on reruns of Criminal Minds.  Within 30 minutes of watching TV, I fell asleep.

I wake up to my joints throbbing in pain.  I grab the remote and hit the call button.  A few minutes later a short Latino nurse walks in who looks to be in her early thirties.  She is wearing dark purple scrubs and has black hair and brown eyes.  Thinking to myself, ‘It must be after 7 pm.’

She introduces herself with, “Hi Will, my name is Isoline, and I will be your nurse tonight.  What can I do for you?”

I said, “Can I get some more pain medicine?”

She said, “Sure, I will be right back.”

She then walks out of the room to return a minute later with a syringe in hand.  She walks over to my I.V. line and connects the syringe to the port.  With a push of the plunger, relief washes over me within seconds.

She then said, “Alright, you should be feeling better now, do you need anything else?”

I said, “No, but thanks for the meds.”

She said, “No problem, let me know if you need anything tonight.”

I said, “OK, thanks.”

Isoline left me to myself to get some rest.   I reclined the bed to a flat position and got under the covers.  With the meds taking effect, it did not take me long to succumb to sleep.

I wake the next day to the sun shining and my I.V. pump beeping.  My joints are throbbing again and I waste no time and hit the call button.  As I am waiting on a nurse, I note that despite having to sleep in the hospital last night, it was not as bad as I imagined.  I was only woken up once to get my vitals checked and once I had to rush to the bathroom to poop and surprisingly pee too.  I hear a knock at the door to shake me out of my thoughts.  I see that it is Rachael.

She said, “What can I …, I see that you need more fluids”

She then pressed some buttons on the pump to get it to stop beeping.

She said, “Well, besides for fluids, do you need anything else?”

“Can I get some more pain medicine?” I asked.

She said, “Sure, I will be right back.”

A minute later, Rachael was back with a bag of fluids in one hand and a syringe in the other.  She swapped out the empty bag of fluids with the new one, then took the syringe and pushed the meds into my I.V. line.  I let out a sigh of relief as the medicine took effect.

She looked at me and said, “The doctor wants to get your height and weight this morning.  Can you follow me to the nurse's station?”

I responded by getting out of bed and grabbing my I.V. pole.  She gestured for me to follow her and I walked behind her to the nurse station.  I stand on the scale that is in the corner behind the station and she weighs me and I turn around on the scale for her to measure my height.  Stepping off the scale and with Rachael standing right beside me, I notice that she is a few inches taller than me.

Looking up at her, I asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, how tall are you?”

She looked at me and said, “I am about 5 foot and 11 ½ inches tall.”

With concern in my voice, “Uh, how much do I weigh and how tall am I?”

Glancing at her notes, she said, “I recorded you weighing 129 pounds and having a height of 5 foot, 8 and ½ inches tall.”

With a shocked look on my face, I said, “I don’t know if you would believe me, but just a few days ago I was 6 foot and 155 pounds.”

She paused for a second, then said, “I saw in your records that it stated that you have lost some height and weight. This is something that I have not seen before, but I have full faith in the doctors finding out what is going on today.”

With that statement, she gestured for me to follow her back to my room.  Walking back into the room I said, “Is it alright if I take a shower?  Besides taking a quick one yesterday morning, I have not taken a shower in days.”

She said, “Sure, there are towels, washcloths, soap, and shampoo in the bathroom.  There should also be a disposable toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink counter.  By the time you are done showering, I will have a clean gown and socks for you to change into.”

I said, “Thanks,” and made my way over to my backpack resting on the chair and grabbed the extra pair of sweatpants and underwear that I had packed.  Pushing the I.V. pole, I enter the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

    I turn the shower water on, then begin to strip off all of my clothes.  I positioned the I.V. pole beside the shower and after testing to see if the water was warm, I stepped in.  After letting the warm water run down my body for a few minutes, I wash my hair and rinse the shampoo out.  Grabbing a washcloth off of the towel rack by the shower, I lather it up with a bar of soap.  As I am washing my body, I am shocked to notice that all of my body hair is thinning.  Rinsing off all the soap, I turned the shower off, grabbed a towel, and quickly dried off.  Stepping out of the shower, I slip on my underwear and sweatpants.  As I stood in front of the mirror, I was shocked by the reflection that was staring back at me. My beard is thin and patchy and my face looks like the face of me in high school.  Not being able to dwell on it too long, I am hit with the need to poop.  I turn around and sit down on the toilet to release another colon’s worth of poop.

    As I am sitting on the toilet and despite all that is happening to me, I still chuckle to myself at the thought of what Daniel Tosh said about a post-shower shit, ‘I might as well go back to bed and start my day over again.’  Deciding that I am done pooping, I wipe, flush, wash my hands, then take the toothbrush and toothpaste and brush my teeth. I also found a comb to comb my hair with.  Looking back at my patchy beard, I sigh.  I never tried growing a beard until I was in my early twenties, because I thought that it looked weird having partial facial hair.  I think to myself, ‘Back to being clean shaved I guess.’ I put the towel, washcloth, gown, and socks in a pile on the floor and grab my dirty sweatpants and underwear.

    Walking back into my room, I see that Rachael kept her word and there is a folded-up gown with socks on top.  I toss my dirty clothes on the chair by my bag and put on the clean gown and socks.  I then hit the call button on the remote, sit on the bed, and wait for Rachael.  About 10 minutes later, Rachael walks in.

    “What can I get for you Will?” she said.

    “Can I get a razor and some shaving cream?  My facial and body hair seems to be falling out.  I usually can grow a full beard,” I said.

    After staring at me for a second, she re-composed herself, then said, “That is a symptom that you will need to discuss with the doctor today; in the meantime, I will go and get you a razor and shaving cream.”

    A minute later, Rachael is back with the razor and shaving cream, and I go back into the bathroom to shave off what is left of my beard.  After wiping off my face from shaving, I look into the mirror and see my mid highschool self looking back at me.  I still have dark bags under my eyes, but looking at myself, I don’t look a day over 16.  Thinking that there is no use in causing myself to have a panic attack, I walk back into my room, lay back in bed, and turn the TV on for background noise as I wait for the doctor.  Watching reruns of Law and Order, I fell asleep.

    I wake up to a knock on the door.  I then see a man walk in wearing khakis, a light blue button-down shirt, a dark blue tie, and a white lab coat.  He looks to be in his early forties and has light brown hair and brown eyes.

    “Good morning Will, I am Dr. James Wilson, how are you feeling this morning?” he said.

    I said, “I have been better, the fluids and pain medicine have been helping.”

    “That is good to hear.  Could you please tell me all of the symptoms that you have been having over the past few days,” he said.

    I managed to tell him about the vomiting, strange bowel movements, joint pain, excessive tiredness and weakness, and headaches.  I also told him about the height and weight loss.

    “There is one more thing that I noticed this morning.  When I was taking a shower, it looked like all my body hair was starting to fall out.  After taking a shower, I also noticed that my beard was thinning and patchy.  I had to shave what was left off due to it looking so bad,” I said.

    After pausing for a second to think, Dr. Wilson said, “It seems that you have some odd symptoms.  It does look like an autoimmune disease of some kind, but your symptoms do not look like some of the more common ones like Lupus.  I am going to have blood cultures taken to rule out an infection that could have been missed yesterday.  I will order another blood panel to see if anything changed from yesterday along with testing for different autoimmune diseases.  I would like to take another urine sample and a stool sample too.  I will put in an order too for a full body CT scan and X-ray.  Do you have any questions?”

    I said, “Uh, … not really.  Do you know when I will have the results back?”

    “We should have some of the results back today, but most of the test results will not be in until sometime between tomorrow and Sunday,” he said.

“OK,” I said.

“One more thing; I know that you have not had any success with eating and drinking over the past few days, but I would like for you to try eating some jello or soup broth today.  If you still cannot keep it down, then we will need to explore other options for getting nutrition in you,” he said.

I replied, “I will try eating some jello at lunch.”

“I will put the orders in for everything and will see you tomorrow to go over any of the results that come back,” he said.

I thanked him and he walked out of the room.  I grabbed my phone off of the table and saw that I had a text from my mom saying that they should be at the hospital between 4 and 5.  With a quick “thumbs up” response, I see that it is 11 am.  I think ‘crap’, I am supposed to be in class today.  Then I realized that I never finished my abstract algebra homework that is due today and I left my ODE homework at my apartment when I emptied my backpack that is also due today.  Opening up my email, I composed an email to all three of my class professors, including my applied matrix theory class.  In the body of the email, I told them about me being sick since Tuesday night and that I am currently in the hospital, and that it looks like I will be here for at least over the weekend. With the email complete, I hit send.  Not knowing what next week has in store for me, I pull up the email chain from Dr. Lau and explain in the email about me being in the hospital and that it is best to go ahead and plan for me possibly not being back next week to teach. I go on to explain that all of the students' assignments have been graded but the quiz from the class on Tuesday and yesterday.  I then tell him that the quiz from Tuesday is in the top drawer of my desk in my office if I am not back in time to grade them.

After hitting send, I see Rachael walk in pushing a cart.

She said, “Will, I am going to draw some blood.”

I nod then she pushes the cart by my bed and takes out all the supplies to get a blood sample.  She then begins to fill what looks to be around 12 vials of blood. When she was done and putting a bandaid on my arm, I jokingly said, “It seems like I am donating blood, not giving a sample.”

With a smile, she said, “It certainly looks that way.”

She then takes two other items off of the cart.  Turning back to me she held up a clear cup and said, “This is for a urine sample.”   Then holding up an opaque white container that looks like a Tupperware container, she said, “This is for a stool sample, I am going to leave both containers in the bathroom for the next time you have to go.  Is there anything you need from me?”

I said, “The doctor wants me to try eating something, could I have some jello please.”

She said, “Sure, do you want strawberry, orange, or lime?”

I said, “I will take the lime.”

She said, “I will be back in a few minutes with your jello.”

    She pushed the cart back out of the room and returned about 5 minutes later with a single-serving cup of green jello with a plastic spool.

    She then said, “Please let me know if you get sick after eating this so I can let the doctor know.”

    I responded with a “Yes”, she walked out of the room and I began tearing into the small cup of jello.  Within seconds of setting the empty cup on the table, I feel the need to throw up.  I reach for the vomit bag on the table and a moment later I am throwing up the green jello into it.  As soon as I am done dry heaving, I get the need to poop again.  Not wanting to waste any time, since I need more time to get a sample, I get out of bed with the vomit bag in one hand and then unplug the I.V. pump with the other.  Pushing the I.V. pole, I throw the used vomit bag away in the medical waste bin as I make my way into the bathroom.

    I grab the container for a stool sample and remove the lid.  Looking for the best way to do this without making a mess and overfilling the container.  I stood in front of the toilet and with one hand holding the container below my butt from between my legs, I hover over the toilet to let the first wave of poop into the container.  As soon as the first amount of poop is deposited into the container, I immediately clench my cheeks and pull the container from between my legs and plant my butt onto the toilet to finish pooping.  As I am sitting on the toilet, I feel the need to pee.  Thinking to myself, ‘This is the first time ever, that I will have to hold my bladder while pooping.’  I hurriedly finished, wiped, and flushed.  I grabbed the urine sample cup, stood back in front of the toilet, collected a sample, then emptied the rest of the contents of my bladder into the toilet and flushed.  I put the lids on both containers and washed my hands.  I made it back to bed and hit the call button for Rachael.

    A few minutes later, Rachael walks in and asks, “Did you have any trouble eating your jello?”

    I said, “Yeah, as soon as I was finished eating, I threw it back up.”

    She said, “I’m sorry to hear that, I will let the doctor know, is there anything else I can get for you?”

    “No, but I was able to get a stool and urine sample.  Both samples are on the bathroom counter,” I said.

    “OK, someone should be here soon to take you to get your X-ray and CT scan.”

    Rachael then grabbed the samples and walked out of my room.  About 30 minutes later an orderly was walking into my room.  After getting me situated in the wheelchair with my I.V., we made the 5-minute journey back downstairs to the radiology department.  I was first given a full body x-ray that only lasted about 15 minutes, but halfway through the full body CT scan, the morphine was beginning to wear off.  By the time the orderly got me back into my room, I was clenching my jaw from the pain in all my joints.  I hit the call button and Rachael was in my room within minutes.

    Rachael asked, “What can I get for you, Will?”

    Through a clenching jaw, I said, “I need pain meds now!”

    She said, “I will be right back.” 

    She almost ran out of the room.  In under a minute later, she was speed walking back in with a syringe in hand.  Wasting no time, she pushed the medicine into my I.V. line.  With relief written on my face, I said, “Thank you.”

    She said, “I'm glad that helped, get some rest, you had a busy day so far.”

On that note and with the pain medicine taking full effect, I fell asleep.

I awoke sometime later to both my parents standing at the foot of my bed with puzzled looks on their faces.  I then hear my mom say, “Will?!?”

[BabySofia]

25 minutes ago, LGGrace said:

struck 2 inches

lost two inches would probably fit better here.

29 minutes ago, LGGrace said:

I then hear my mom say, “Will?!?”

Well, I'm guessing Mom will figure out that he looks like he's a kid again! 

29 minutes ago, LGGrace said:

I do not have the patience or creative skills to attempt to write one.

I don't know about patience, but you do clearly have the creative skills! I'm enjoying this, and I completely understand if you keep it to a novella length rather than War and Peace! (I know of very few authors who can pull off something that length!)

[LGGrace]

Good catch I will fix it soon.

He is definitely younger looking.  I would say he looks like his teenage self.  Also with having a beard most of his adult life, being clean-shaved again can be jarring.  I remember hardly recognizing my dad when I was 9 and seeing him clean-shaven for the first time.

Thanks, Sofia!  This is my first time trying my hand at creative writing since I was forced to take two creative writing classes in my freshman year of college.  I do expect the story to be somewhere around 70 chapters, give or take about 10 chapters. The main reason there will be a time jump is around the halfway point there is a period where not much is going on as far as the plot line.  Without giving anything away, the first half is the downfall of Will and the second half will be Will trying to get some aspects of his old life back.  I don't want to board y'all with chapter after chapter of Will just pooping his diaper in the middle.

[Kaiko-chan]

Providing a stool sample was one of the worst things. I've had to do

[LGGrace]

I don't imagine it would. Surprisingly that is one of the few things I have not had to do despite all of the GI problems I had.  I'm just glad I don't plan on writing a colonoscopy in this story.

[dmavn]

12 hours ago, LGGrace said:

Here is another long chapter,

I for one like long chapters. Especially when it is something i enjoy reading.