Thursday morning I wake up sick as a dog. My throat so swollen, it feels like a piece of raw meat when I swallow, barely able to breathe through my nose and my head is literally pounding. I’m pretty sure I have a fever, too. I feel hot and clammy one minute and freezing the next. I stare at the clock next to the bed. Eleven a.m. I can’t believe I slept so late. Slowly sitting up, my head feels like a bowling ball, and the room feels like it’s spinning. Shit. I really do not have time to be sick.
I call Michael’s office. “It’s me,” I croak into the phone when he answers.
“Did you just wake up? You sound awful.”
I cough into the phone. “I feel like I’m dying. Can you take me over to urgent care? I’ll never get an appointment with my doctor today. I think I need some meds. I feel like I have strep throat.”
“Evelyn, I’m at work.”
“I don’t have a car, Michael.”
“Fuck. How the hell are we going to get your car home?”
“You were supposed to drive me there to get it.” I cough again and my throat feels like it’s on fire. “Can you take me to urgent care and then for my car?”
“Evelyn, it’s just a cold. Don’t be a hypochondriac.”
“Michael, I’m not.” I hate when he does this to me. Like I want to sit here and pretend being sick just for attention. “Michael, please. I really don’t feel well, and I’m supposed to go back to work tomorrow. I need to get some meds so I can feel better.”
“I’m leaving this afternoon. I have to fly back to the office in South Carolina. I’ll be there until Sunday.”
“Michael? Really? I just got home. I haven’t seen you hardly at all. Do you really have to go?” I don’t want him to leave again, especially when I feel sick. I have a huge fear of passing out and cracking my head open and laying on the floor bleeding to death.
“Babe, I don’t have time for this. I told you my job was going to be really busy with the new software platform.”
A coughing fit takes over for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, Mike. I’m not trying to bother you, really. I just need a little help. Please? Can you just take me to the doctor? I don’t care about the car right now.”
He’s silent for a few moments, but I can hear him rustling stuff around on his desk. “All right, all right. I’m going to take my lunch break now and come home for you. I’ll take you to urgent care real quick, okay? But then I have to get back here and catch my flight this afternoon. You’re going to have to see if Amy can take you for your car or maybe the garage can drive it to our house for you if we pay them. Get dressed. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Love you.”
I feel dismissed, but at least he agreed to take me to the doctor, which is a good thing because my visit doesn’t go so well. According to the doctor, and the tests she put me through while I’m there. I have a high fever and suffering from dehydration and exhaustion on top of an extremely bad cold or flu. She gives me antibiotics, cough medicine, some supplements to take, and faxes a note over to my boss saying I can’t return to work until next Wednesday—if I feel better by then. My boss will have a cow for sure. If I have a job by next week, it will be a miracle. In the meantime, she says I need to get as much rest as possible and drink a lot of water and juice.
On the way home, Michael stops at a convenience store and buys me orange juice and a few cans of soup. He plants a quick kiss on the top of my head after he parks his car in front of our condo. “I have to get back to the office. My flight leaves at five. Just go rest, and I’ll call you later, okay?”
I smile weakly at him through my hot and dizzy, sick daze. “Thank you. I’m going to go inside and lay down. I’m sorry I interrupted your day.”
“It’s all right, Evelyn. I’m sorry to be rushing you around. I know I seem like a dick, but I’m really stressed out at work.” He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “I know you’ve had a rough time lately. I promise when things settle down, I’ll make this up to you, okay? We’ll go away for a long weekend.”