Page 21 of Beyond Friendship

“Ah, hello, Mr. Fox,” a nurse says, walking in with a generous smile. She pushes a lock of black hair that escaped from her bun behind her ear while inspecting the bag of fluid attached to my IV. “Are you in any pain?”

I shake my head.

“Good. If so, let me know.”

The door opens again, and as she leaves, my cardiologist, Dr. Wilson, walks in. He grips the back of the bed and greets my mother before turning his attention to me.

“Hello, Brian. How are you feeling?”

“Tired. What happened?”

“Your Brugada surfaced, causing severe arrhythmias. Have you experienced an increase in dizziness, palpitations, or the fluttering sensations in your chest prior to this?”

“Yeah, yesterday, I got an intense dizziness spell in my office and this morning at the gym, I felt a couple of flutters in my chest and then it all went wrong.”

I clench my teeth and force a tight breath out as I take in his frowning face. “I was about to contact you after the workout,” I start, but Dr. Wilson cuts me off with a shake of his head.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Brian,” he says sympathetically. “We all know that with this syndrome, anything can happen anytime, anywhere.” He holds my gaze for a few seconds more before continuing. “Rather than dwelling on this, be thankful that it happened in front of people who could help.”

I try to sit up, but a stiff and piercing soreness in my chest pins me to the bed. I glance down and let out an audible gasp at the Band-Aid covering three quarters of my left upper pec.

“Let me guess, the ICD?” I say with a thick voice.

“Yes.”

“Well, guess you’ve been right about me needing it.”

“Brian, I didn’t foresee this would happen so soon after our appointment,” Wilson says. “But like you know, Brugada is unpredictable in its nature.”

Brugada is a Bitch.

“And it’s the reason I had you sign the consent form for a device implant in case of an emergency all those years ago.”

I close my eyes and swallow hard as the truth of this whole situation sinks in as he explains further.

“When the paramedics brought you in, your heart went into ventricular fibrillation. This can lead to cardiac arrest and death in minutes, as it did with your father. We had to shock you twice to get your heart into a normal rhythm.”

Fuck. I peek through my lashes, scowling internally when seeing my mom’s watery gaze. I’ve been a selfish prick.

“What does the ICD do, specifically?” Mom questions Dr. Wilson in a voice tinged with fear.

He clears his throat before answering. “It monitors your son’s heart rhythm around the clock and sends an electric shock if needed.”

Mom’s fingers tighten around mine as she looks up at him, voice trembling. “So it’ll happen again?”

His expression softens as he addresses her concern. “Maybe, maybe not. Only time will tell. That’s why having this ICD is so important for Brian.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose as overwhelming, dark, frightening thoughts hint at my uncertain future. They’re keen on consuming me, but I confine them to an impenetrable vault in my subconscious.

“When can I go home?”

“Brian, that’s not funny,” my mom mutters.

The doctor looks at me, a grin adorning his lips. “Good to see your determination is still intact. I’ll be by to check on you tomorrow. If the ICD works correctly and you don’t show any signs of complication, I’ll decide when you can be discharged. For now, rest.”

My mom shakes the doc’s hand, sweeping her eyes after he leaves.

“Are you ready for two visitors? Nick and Cole are eager to see you.” She pauses. “You should have told them about your condition, Brian.”

---