Page 145 of The Texas Sterling Collection
“I don’t really know. I woke up in the middle of the night and found him in the bathroom, heaving. He said it came out both ends, and he couldn’t stop throwing up.” Wyl couldn’t keep his voice from shaking and his emotions from crumbling.
“Do either of you do recreational drugs?”
Wyl shook his head. “We don’t even smoke.”
“Another possibility is food poisoning. Did you both eat the same things for 24-48 hours?”
“Yes and no. We ate at the same restaurants, but not the same food. The only thing he ate that I avoided was a slice of raw baby squid at a fish market in Chinatown. And he didn’t actually eat it. He spat it out after the first bite.”
“That could be the culprit. The Chinese have developed a tolerance for certain bacteria. Since you and he are from Texas, he encountered something his system rejected. The squid being raw is another factor. While raw squid is used in some sushi, it is thoroughly washed and cleaned. If he put raw squid from a fishmonger in his mouth, he probably got a good dose of bacteria even if he spat it out.”
“How did you know we came from Texas?”
“The hospital records from when you checked him in. I’m doing everything I can to save your husband. He became so dehydrated that his heart rate was erratic, and his kidneys were in danger of shutting down. He actually stopped breathing as we worked on him.”
Wyl’s head pounded with his pulse, and his field of vision narrowed. Things went black as someone in the distance yelled, "Nurse!"
Wyl gradually became aware of a bright light and something over his mouth and nose. He raised his hand to block the light and heard voices. Far off in the distance, someone was sayingMr. Sterling…Mr. Sterling. As consciousness emerged, he realized he was on a gurney with Dr. Wilson calling his name.
“Y-yes?” Wyl stammered beneath the oxygen mask as the fog in his head cleared.
“You passed out as we talked,” Dr. Wilson said. “Breathe deeply and try not to move.”
Wyl did as instructed, and gradually he remembered pieces of their conversation. He grabbed the oxygen mask and pulled it off his face. “Rod!”
“Wyl, relax. Rod is fine. Not out of danger, but stable and showing improvement. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“Yes, Dr. Wilson.” Wyl dragged himself into a sitting position. The room moved around him. He covered his face with his hands until the spinning stopped. He opened his eyes to see the nurse standing before him, offering a water bottle. He uncapped it and took a few gulps. He scanned the room for the doctor. “Tell me more.”
“We moved him into the ICU. You can see him briefly at 7:00. The next 12 hours are the most critical.”
“Doctor Wilson, is he going to make it?” Wyl grabbed the doctor’s arm. “I can’t lose him. He’s all I have in this world. Is there anything I can do?” Wyl’s upper body shook, physical distress clear as the possibility of losing Rod gripped his soul. The memory of Walt in the ICU kept flashing into his mind. Wyl feared that Rod would slip away without him being there. Had he experienced his last kiss and hug from the man he loved?
“I know you’re distraught. Rod is strong, but we need to get his electrolytes balanced and his fluid levels back to normal. His heart rate is still erratic, and his kidneys are not producing. I want him closely monitored so we can react to any change.”
It took Wyl a few moments to absorb the information. “Thanks, Doctor Wilson. Is there an ICU waiting room I can sit in?”
“Yes. Second floor. You’ll see it. I’ll be up there keeping an eye on him. 7:00 a.m. is only an hour away. I’ll come and update you before you see him. We are doing everything medically possible for him. I’m confident he’ll pull through.”
“I’ll be in the waiting room.”
The doctor squeezed his shoulder, then left to attend to other patients. Wyl broke down in sobs. His insides trembled as his overloaded emotions came to the surface. He needed somebody to turn to for support. Rod stayed by his side every minute when Walt died. He needed Rod there for help, but Rod needed his support now. He wiped his eyes, pulled himself together, climbed off the gurney, and trudged upstairs to the second-floor ICU waiting room.
* * *
At seven o’clock, Doctor Wilson entered the waiting room, sat beside Wyl, and smiled. “We are pleased with his progress. He’s not out of the woods yet, but his heart rate is stable, and he is beginning to produce urine. He’s unconscious and intubated, but you can see him.”
“I want to hold his hand and whisper to him.”
“Come with me.” He stood.
Wyl followed him into Rod’s cubicle. Rod lay there, tubes and wires attached. The breathing machine hissed in a regular pattern. His paleness worried Wyl, but seeing his husband with so many tubes and wires connected to his body bothered him more. He desperately needed Rod to be okay.
“You can stay with him for 30 minutes,” the doctor mentioned. “We are monitoring every vital function. If anything goes wrong, we can help him immediately.”
“Thank you, doctor.” Wyl’s voice shook. “I appreciate all you are doing.”
The doctor left, and Wyl took Rod’s hand. He wanted to hug Rod and kiss him, but couldn’t. Tears flowed as he remembered seeing Walt in the same position months ago. If Rod died, his life would be over.
