Page 84 of Puck Struck
Logan knows exactly where to go once we get to the hospital, his familiarity with the place hitting me like a junk punch.
How many times has he been here? How many worried walks down these hallways has he taken?
Tessa and Ethan wait for us in the lobby. Ethan's curled up against his mother's side, his skin more yellow than it was last time. He’s listless, too, a glaring contrast to the energetic kid I'd met a short time ago. Logan's face crumbles for just a second before he pulls it together and crosses the room in only a few quick strides.
"Hey, bud," he says, kneeling beside Ethan's chair. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired," Ethan mumbles, leaning into Logan's touch when he feels his forehead. "My tummy hurts."
"We're gonna get that fixed, okay?"
Tessa looks up at me, surprise flickering across her features. "Cam. I didn't expect you to be here."
"He insisted on driving when we got to the airport," Logan explains. "Said he wanted to be here."
The furrowed-brow look she gives me is curious, like she's trying to figure out what our deal is. I guess she thinks it’s weird that I’m here. Maybe it is, but I want to be supportive for Logan. So I hang back, not wanting to intrude on their business. Ethan gives me a small smile and a weak wave.
“Hi, Cam,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper.
“Hey, bud,” I say in a quiet voice. “I brought a puck back for you from our game.”
“Thanks.” He sighs, his eyes drooping closed.
"Ethan Reynolds?" A nurse appears with a clipboard. "Dr. Patel will see you now."
We follow her down a hallway lined with cheerful, bold-colored murals that feel obscenely bright. Logan carries Ethan, who's content to bury his face in his uncle's shoulder.
“Listen, I’ll just hang out here,” I say to Logan before they get to the exam room.
He looks at me. “Come inside. I…I want you there.”
I need you there.
He didn’t say the words but my heart swells at the thought anyway.
I nod and move into the room behind them. The nurse checks Ethan’s vitals and asks a lot of questions before standing up with a pleasant smile on her face, her iPad in hand. “The doctor will be in shortly.”
Dr. Patel is a small woman with kind eyes and gray-streaked hair. She examines Ethan while asking more questions about his symptoms, his energy levels, and his appetite. Logan and Tessa take turns answering them and the anxiety and fear in their voices makes my gut wrench.
"We'll need to run some more bloodwork," Dr. Patel says after wrapping up the exam. "But based on his symptoms and the progression we've been tracking, I'm concerned about his liver function."
"What does that mean?" Tessa asks, though her tone suggests she already knows.
"Well, as you know, Ethan has Alagille syndrome," Dr. Patel explains, glancing at me like she's including me in the family circle. "Which we know is a genetic disorder that affects the bile ducts in the liver. Over time, the lack of proper bile drainage can lead to progressive liver damage and cirrhosis. We’ve spoken about this potential in the past, but the risk levels are elevated to the point where we need to discuss other treatments.”
Shit. I've heard Logan mention Ethan's liver condition, but hearing the specifics makes it real in a way that knots my stomach.
"His latest tests show elevated bilirubin levels and decreased protein synthesis," the doctor continues. "The fever and fatigue suggest his liver is struggling more than usual. We're not at a crisis point yet, but we're approaching a stage where more aggressive intervention might be necessary."
"Intervention?" Logan's voice is carefully controlled. My heart aches for him. He’s trying so hard to keep it together but I can tell from the emotions swirling in his eyes that he’s damn close to cracking.
"Potentially a liver transplant. I know that's not what you want to hear, but we need to start considering all options."
The room falls silent except for the hum of the overhead fluorescent lights and Ethan's soft breathing. He dozed off during the examination, exhausted by the effort of just lying on the exam table.
"How long do we have?" Tessa asks.
"It's hard to say. Could be months, could be longer, if we’re lucky. We'll know more after today's bloodwork. For now, we continue monitoring and managing his symptoms."
