Chapter 36

Nick

Kevin wasn’t the only one who had regressed. Over the past few weeks, I had also slipped right back into my old ways, picking up the bad habits I’d tried to break. Unbeknownst to Kevin and AJ, I was drinking every night and even during the day, popping pills to dull my pain and make myself numb. Meanwhile, the weight I’d lost by dieting and working out with a trainer the year before was slowly piling back on from my eating too much and not exercising enough. I didn’t need to step on a scale to know I had put on a few pounds; I could tell by the way I looked when I took off my shirt to go in the pool, the way I felt when I put on a pair of pants that were too tight or got winded walking up a flight of stairs.

In the back of my mind, I worried about the damage I was doing to my body, but my paranoia wasn’t enough to scare me straight. Late at night, I would lie awake in bed, listening to my heart beating like a bass drum inside my ears and wondering if it was supposed to sound that way, so heavy and loud. I had never been aware of my own heartbeat like that before, and rather than be reassured by it, I found it unsettling. But in the light of day, it was easier to brush aside my fear that something might really be wrong with me and blame it on a case of hypochondria.

It all came to a head the day Kevin went to the hospital.

When I walked out of Cedars-Sinai that afternoon, I felt as free as a bird, like a heavy weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Of course, I was worried about Kevin, but I knew he was in good hands at the hospital. The IV antibiotics would clear up his infection and help him feel better, and he’d be able to come home in a couple days. In the meantime, I was selfishly looking forward to a weekend free from my caregiving duties, at least when it came to Kevin. I would still have to help AJ with Mason, but I decided he could handle babysitting duties by himself for a few more hours. It was Friday night, and I wanted to go out.

I called up my friend Chris, who came all the way from Newport Beach to pick me up. He had just gotten off work and was ready to start the weekend right. We went downtown for dinner and drinks to get away from West Hollywood, then headed to one of my favorite clubs to party.

When the club closed at two, Chris brought me back to Kevin’s house. “Wanna come in for a while?” I asked as I climbed unsteadily out of his car. “I know where Kev keeps his liquor.”

Chris laughed. “Nah, man, I think you’ve had enough for tonight. Besides, I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.”

“You could just sleep here,” I said with a shrug, leaning against the open door. “Kevin won’t care. Hell, he’s not even here. But he wouldn’t want you to drive after you’ve been drinking.”

“I’m not drunk,” Chris insisted. “You know me – I like to pace myself.”

That was true. He seemed perfectly sober. Meanwhile, the world was spinning under my feet. Dizzily, I clutched the car door, trying not to topple over.

“Go inside and get some sleep, dude,” he added with a grin. “I’ve gotta get home to let my dog out anyway.”

“All right… catch you later, bro,” I replied reluctantly. I shut the door with an uncoordinated shove and stumbled up the path to Kevin’s front porch.

Once inside the dark house, I went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I found a note from AJ lying on the counter: Mason had a blowout while you were gone. Thanks a lot, Prick! I laughed when I read it, imagining AJ on the verge of vomiting as he cleaned up a violent explosion of baby poop. That was bad, but nothing compared to cleaning up a full grown man’s mess.

At least you’ve never had to stick your finger up your friend’s asshole, I thought, shaking my head as I tossed the note in the trash.

I chugged the rest of my water and slowly climbed the stairs, clinging to the banister so I could keep my balance. I staggered down the hall to my room and flopped facedown on my bed, still fully clothed. I closed my eyes, but I could still feel the room spinning around me, the floor rocking back and forth like I was on a boat. Within a few minutes, I drifted off to sleep – or blacked out; I wasn’t sure which.

When I woke up, I was lying on my back, and it felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. The pressure was so intense, I could barely breathe. It was as if all the air had been squeezed out of my lungs. I tried to refill them, but the crushing pain prevented me from taking a deep breath. I began to pant instead, shallow gasps of air hitching in and out of my lungs as my heart bumped unsteadily against them. I pressed my hand to the left side of my chest until I felt it pounding beneath my palm. It was beating so hard, I worried it would burst right out of my chest like that scene from Alien. Was I having a heart attack?

Frozen with pain and panic, I lay there for a few minutes, my mind racing as fast as my heart. I’m only twenty-eight years old… I can’t be having a heart attack. But I partied pretty hard last night… Maybe I am. My sheets felt damp; I couldn’t tell if it was from perspiration or piss. I was drenched with sweat, but I was also still drunk, which didn’t help matters.

I tried to clear my head and concentrate on my breathing, thinking I could calm myself down and slow the battering inside my chest by taking deep breaths. I inhaled through my nose, attempting to hold the air in my lungs for a few seconds before I released it through my mouth. But the throbbing pain made it impossible. I could hear my heartbeat echoing in my ears. The muffled thumping sound filled me with a sense of impending doom. Is this what dying feels like? I wondered. What if this is it?

Still clutching my chest, I struggled to pull myself into an upright position. Sitting up seemed to relieve some of the pain and pressure, making it easier for me to breathe. It’s probably just a panic attack or a night terror or something, I told myself. Take deep breaths and try to calm down. I leaned forward, feeling my rib cage expand as I sucked in lungfuls of air. My heart was still hammering frantically against it, but I felt a little better than I had lying flat on my back. Maybe I was just being a hypochondriac again. I remembered that morning in Mexico, when I’d woken up feeling the same way after a night of drinking with Howie. I had worried I was having a heart attack then, too. Was it all in my head, or was my body trying to warn me to change my ways before I drank myself to death?

Fighting my conflicting thoughts of paranoia and self-doubt, I debated over what to do. Should I go to the ER? If I did, and it turned out to be nothing, I would feel like a fool. But at least I would be alive. If I really was dying and didn’t get to the hospital soon, AJ would find my stiff, cold body lying dead in bed later that day. I didn’t want to do that to him – or leave Kevin down another caregiver. They were both counting on me. I couldn’t risk dying just to preserve my dignity. I had to go get checked out.

With trembling fingers, I finally reached over to the bedside table and fumbled around in the dark until I found my phone. The time glowed as I turned on the screen, filling the room with dim light. It was only four a.m. AJ would still be asleep at this hour. I hated to make him drive me to the hospital so early in the morning, which would mean waking up Mason, too. But I was in no condition to drive myself. What if I passed out behind the wheel and caused an accident?

I was halfway through dialing 911 when I hesitated again. If I called for an ambulance to come to Kevin’s house, it was only a matter of time before TMZ found out and got a hold of the audio recording to release to the public. I hated the thought of the whole world hearing my shaky, terrified voice tell the 911 dispatcher I was having a heart attack – especially if it turned out to be all in my head.

So I called Sam instead.

Her name and number were right there on the screen with my other recent contacts; I had just talked to her the previous day when I’d called to tell her not to come over that weekend because Kevin was in the hospital. Now I was the one who needed her help.

She answered on the third ring with a groggy, “Hello?”

“Hey… it’s Nick. Sorry for waking you.”

“Nick? What’s wrong?” Almost immediately, she sounded more alert. “Is it Kevin?”

“No. It’s me,” I said, rubbing my chest. “I… I think I might be having a heart attack.”

“What?!” Her voice rose. “Are you being serious right now, or is this some kind of prank call?”

“No, for real… I just woke up with my heart pounding. My chest hurts. It’s hard to breathe.”

“Why are you calling me and not 911?”

“I dunno; you’re, like, almost a doctor, right? I thought you’d know what to do.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized how dumb they sounded. Too late.

“I’m a first-year med student, Nick; I don’t know anything except you need to go to the ER and get checked out by a real doctor!” Sam cried. “Get off the phone with me and dial 911!”

“I don’t wanna call 911,” I said stubbornly. “They record those calls; I don’t want my fans to hear me like this.”

“Then get AJ to drive you to the hospital! Right now!”

“He’s asleep.”

“So wake him up! Can you walk?”

“Yeah, but then we’d have to wake up the baby and bring him with us. There’s no one else here to watch him.”

“I’m on my way,” Sam said. Over the phone, I could hear her fumbling around her room. I imagined her opening and closing drawers, getting dressed in a hurry. “I’ll be there in like fifteen minutes to watch Mason. I want you to stay on the phone with me, but go wake up AJ. Do it now, or I’m sending an ambulance myself.” Her voice was firm, yet I found it reassuring.

“Okay… okay, I’m going to get him. Thanks, Sam.” An odd sense of relief rushed over me as I slid my legs over the side of the bed. I felt a little better with my feet planted on the floor and a plan of action to follow. It put an end to my indecision.

I held on to the edge of the mattress with both hands while I stood up, afraid my knees might buckle. My legs felt shaky and weak, but they supported my weight as I rose slowly to my full height. My heart hammered even harder as pain continued to radiate through my chest, making me dizzy and filling me with fresh panic.

Still clutching the phone in my hand, I staggered out of my room and walked slowly down the hall to AJ’s, clinging to the wall in case I collapsed. “AJ!” I called softly, banging on his closed door. “Wake up!”

I opened the door and crept into the darkened room, allowing the faint light from the hallway to slip in ahead of me. As my eyes adjusted, I could see AJ’s silhouette stir in bed. Over the rustle of covers, his voice croaked, “What is it?”

I stopped at the foot of the bed. “I need you to take me to the ER. I think I’m having a heart attack.”

“What??” AJ sat bolt upright, squinting at me in the dark. “Are you trying to fuck with me?”

Why did everyone think I would wake them up in the wee hours of the morning just to pretend I was dying as some kind of sick practical joke? My sense of humor may have been a little twisted, but it wasn’t that morbid. “No, dude, I mean it,” I insisted, wincing as I massaged my chest. “I’ve got Sam on the phone; she told me to come get you.”

“Jesus, Nick!” AJ turned on the lamp on his bedside table and tore back the covers, climbing quickly out of bed. He came over, took one close look at me, and shook his head. “Sit down before you pass out,” he said, putting his hands on my shoulders and gently pushing me down onto the edge of the mattress. “Give me that.” He snatched the phone out of my hand and put it to his ear. “Hello? Sam?”

I listened to his side of the conversation, unable to hear Sam’s replies.

“Yeah… I dunno, but he’s breathing pretty hard. He’s real pale and sweaty, too.” AJ paced around the room as Sam said something else. “All right… yeah… I’m getting dressed now.” He opened the closet and started pulling out clothes. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” He put on athletic shorts and a random t-shirt, cramming his bare feet into a pair of slides. “C’mon, bro,” he said finally, taking me by the arm and helping me back up. “She’ll be here in a few. Let’s get you out to the car.”

I was still in the same clothes I’d worn to the club the night before. I’m sure they reeked of sweat and booze, but I didn’t care. I shuffled down the hall with AJ. We took the elevator to the first floor and went outside. AJ buckled me into the passenger seat of his car just as a pair of headlights pulled up the long, curving driveway.

Sam parked her car next to AJ’s and jumped out. She was wearing a baggy t-shirt and pajama bottoms with a pair of flip-flops. She ran around to my side of the car and opened the door. “Are you okay?” she asked me, leaning down to get a better look at me. Reaching in, she pressed two fingers to the side of my neck, just below my jawbone. It took me a second to realize she was checking my pulse.

“I dunno… not really,” I replied, still rubbing my chest beneath the seatbelt.

She squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “You will be. Hang in there.” She closed the car door, but I could hear the rest of her muffled conversation with AJ. “Which hospital are you taking him to?”

“Cedars, I guess,” he replied with a shrug. “It’s closer, and it’s where Kevin is.”

Sam nodded. “Call me when you have an update. I’ll hang out here until you get home.”

“Thanks. We owe you one!” He opened the driver’s side door and slid behind the wheel. He started the engine, executed a quick three-point turn, and took off down the driveway. “We’ll be there in a few minutes, buddy,” he said, reaching over to pat my knee as he pulled through the privacy gate and turned onto the road. “Don’t you go dyin’ on me.”

I let out a humorless laugh and lay my head back against the seat as he hit the accelerator. “I’ll try not to…” The way he whipped through Kevin’s neighborhood, dodging parked cars on the side of the narrow, winding road, was making me nauseous. I cringed every time he took a curve too fast. “Don’t you go killing me before we get there.”

“Don’t worry, bro,” AJ replied, jerking the wheel sharply to the left to avoid crashing into a tall hedge growing right over the curb along another bend in the road. “I got this.”

Thankfully, it was four in the morning, and the streets were deserted. The sky was still dark; the sun wouldn’t be up for another hour or so. I hoped I would be alive to see it. I drew in a sharp breath as my heart skipped a beat, seeming to falter for a second before it slammed back into the wall of my chest.

Hearing my gasp of pain, AJ glanced over at me. “What’d you take last night, Nick?” he asked me in a low voice as he slowed to a stop at the bottom of the hill, where Miller Drive met with Sunset Boulevard.

“Nothing,” I lied, staring out the window. The intersection was empty – not another car in sight in either direction. I wished the stoplight would turn green so we could keep going.

“Bullshit,” spat AJ. “You keep putting poison in your body, and it’s bound to get sick sooner or later. Let’s just hope they can make it better.”

Who introduced me to those poisons in the first place, you fucking hypocrite? I thought, but I bit my tongue to prevent myself from saying the words aloud.

The light finally changed, and AJ pulled forward, veering right onto La Cienega Boulevard. We were only about a mile away from the hospital now. I prayed for green lights the rest of the way.

I felt a rush of deja vu when I looked up and saw the large buildings of the Cedars-Sinai complex looming ahead of us, all light gray concrete and shiny glass. Less than twenty-four hours ago, I had driven Kevin to the same destination. I didn’t expect to come back the next day as a patient instead of a visitor.

AJ followed the signs to the emergency room entrance and pulled up right in front, handing his keys to the valet attendant to park his car. He came around to help me out, slinging his arm around me as we walked slowly into the hospital. I didn’t want to have to lean on him, but my legs were shaking, and the fluttery feeling in my chest made me light-headed and dizzy.

The nurse at the front desk was different from the one who had been on duty the previous day when I came in with Kevin. She took my vital signs as she asked me questions about my symptoms, and when I told her I was having chest pains, she put me on the fast track to an exam room.

In a matter of minutes, I found myself propped up on a bed with my shirt off, being poked and prodded by a bunch of different people. I winced as a woman in a white coat pressed the cold end of her stethoscope to my bare chest, pursing her lips as she listened. A man in scrubs worked around her, applying sticky patches to my skin and attaching wires to them. One of the nurses wrapped a blood pressure cuff around my right arm and inflated it until it was painfully tight. I felt a sharp prick in my left arm as another nurse put in an IV.

I looked away from her and focused on the open doorway, where I could see AJ pacing back and forth in the hall outside my room. I watched him run his hands over his head, raking his fingers through his thinning hair. He wasn’t going to have much left if he kept doing that.

“We’re going to lie you down now, Mr. Carter.” The doctor lowered the head of my bed until I was lying flat on my back. Unable to see AJ anymore, I focused on the doctor’s face instead as she felt around my belly. “Does it hurt when I do this?” she asked, digging her gloved fingers into the flab.

I shook my head. “It’s not my stomach that hurts. It’s my chest.”

Her hands moved upwards, tracing the curve of my rib cage and tapping firmly between my ribs with her fingers. She followed the same path with her stethoscope, pausing every few seconds to listen as she probed along my torso. “Can you describe the pain for me? Is it sharp or dull? Constant or intermittent? Does it radiate or stay in one place? Where do you feel it the most? Does it feel like squeezing, or is it more of a burning sensation?”

She pelted questions at me, and I answered them the best I could, struggling to put my pain into words as my heart pounded and my breath caught in my throat. I could hear a heart monitor beeping rapidly in the background, which only increased my sense of panic.

One of the nurses slipped a pair of plastic prongs into my nostrils and tucked the attached tubing behind my ears. “Take deep breaths and try to calm down, Mr. Carter,” she told me as cool air began to flow through the tubes. “We’re going to take good care of you.”

Another nurse placed a nitroglycerin tablet under my tongue. “Hold it there until it dissolves,” she instructed. “It should take the edge off your chest pain.”

The extra oxygen made it easier for me to breathe, and after a few minutes, the medication worked its magic, lifting the weight off my chest. I no longer felt like I was being trampled by an invisible elephant. But I still felt terrified. “Am I having a heart attack?” I asked the doctor.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” she replied, now studying a strip of paper that had printed out of a piece of equipment parked next to my bed. I recognized the wavy lines as a recording of my heartbeat, but I didn’t know what they meant or whether they looked normal or not. “Have you consumed any alcohol or taken any drugs tonight, Mr. Carter?”

“Just a few drinks,” I said, trying to sound casual. I watched her face as she continued to pore over the strip of paper, her brow furrowed in concentration. She wore a frown on her lips that filled me with a fresh burst of panic. Either she didn’t like what she was seeing, or she was confused because it wasn’t what she had expected to find. I wondered if she could tell I wasn’t being entirely truthful.

“I don’t see any signs of ST elevation on your EKG, which would indicate a heart attack, but we need to run more tests to rule it out,” she said, finally setting the paper aside as she turned back to me. She pulled a pen light out of the front pocket of her coat and clicked it on, shining the bright beam into both of my eyes.

“How long will that take?” I felt a little better after hearing that it might not be a heart attack. Maybe it was just my anxiety after all, exacerbated by the stress of caring for Kevin and Mason. Rather than relieving that stress, my night of hard partying had probably pushed me over the edge.

“At least a few hours. We won’t release you until your vitals have stabilized and your symptoms have resolved,” she replied firmly, glancing up at the heart monitor over my head. “Your heart rate and blood pressure are both elevated. Given your complaints of chest pain, palpitations, and shortness of breath, those findings could be cause for concern. We need to figure out what’s going on so we can fix the problem and hopefully prevent it from happening again.”

I nodded, knowing she was right even though I really just wanted to go home and sleep it off.

“You’re also dehydrated, which can throw your electrolytes out of whack and cause some of these symptoms,” the doctor added as she looked down my throat. “We’re going to give you some IV fluids. That may help you feel better.”

“Sounds good,” I agreed, too tired to argue. Besides, the needle was already in my arm.

The doctor finished her exam and took off her gloves, tossing them into a trash bin. “Try to relax and get some rest,” she told me, touching my shoulder. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

After she left the room, AJ came in. “You okay, Nicky Nick?” he asked as he stood next to my bed, staring down at me.

I felt self-conscious lying there shirtless with all the tubes and wires connected to me. It made me feel vulnerable and weak in a way I’d never felt before. Despite not taking the best care of my body at times, I had always been reasonably healthy. The idea that I might be seriously ill not only scared the shit out of me; it made me feel ashamed. Was this my fault? Had my years of heavy drinking and drug abuse finally taken a toll on me?

I could hardly look AJ in the eye as I muttered, “I dunno. The doctor doesn’t think it’s a heart attack, but she said I need to stay for more tests to make sure.”

“Well, sure. She’s gonna wanna give you a clean bill of health before she lets you go. Gotta cover her own ass, you know?” He flashed me a reassuring smile. “I’m sure everything will turn out fine. It was probably just a panic attack or a bad reaction to whatever shit you put in your body last night.”

“Shhh!” I hissed, my eyes darting toward the two nurses who were still hanging out near my bed. One of them hooked up a bag of clear liquid to my IV while the other typed notes on a computer in the corner of the room. I didn’t want them to know I had lied to the doctor.

The first nurse cleared his throat as he finished fiddling with my IV. “Speaking of tests, we do need to collect some samples to send to the lab,” he said with a little smirk that told me he had heard every word of our conversation. He tied a tourniquet around my right arm and drew some blood while a white-faced AJ looked the other way. Then he raised the head of my bed so I was sitting up again and handed me a clear cup. “You know what to do, man.”

I looked down at the cup, then back up at him. “You want me to pee in this?”

The nurse nodded. “Yup.”

“Right now?”

“Yup.”

I shifted my weight awkwardly on the bed. “Well, can I at least go to the bathroom to do it?”

“Nope.” He crossed his arms over his chest, seeming to take pleasure in my discomfort. “You’ve gotta stay in bed until the doctor says it’s safe for you to be off the monitor.”

AJ, still looking a little pale, offered me a sympathetic smile. “I’ll wait outside for this part, buddy,” he said, patting the back of my hand before hurrying back out to the hall.

The nurse pulled a curtain around my bed to give me some privacy. At least he’s not threatening to put in a catheter, I told myself, thinking of Kevin. It could always be worse. With a sigh, I pulled down the fly of my pants and fumbled around until I finally managed to fill the cup halfway. “Is this good enough?” I asked grudgingly, holding it around the curtain for the nurse to see.

“Yup, should be fine.” He took the cup from me, put a lid on it, and added a label to the side. “I’ll get this to the lab.”

Great, I thought sarcastically as he left, wondering how much evidence of the previous night’s partying would show up in my lab work.

While I was waiting on the results, a technician wheeled in a big piece of equipment I didn’t recognize, which turned out to be a portable X-ray machine. He laid me back down, placing a hard board behind my back, and positioned the arm of the machine over my bed to take an X-ray of my chest. “How does it look?” I asked the tech as he checked the picture on his screen.

“Looks like we got a good image,” was all he would say. “The doctor will be back to talk to you about it soon.”

He left in a hurry, which freaked me out a little. What if he found a tumor or something? I wondered, the wheels in my head turning with worry again.

To make matters worse, my doctor didn’t come back for another hour. By then, I was feeling better physically, but when I saw the grim look on her face, my hopes of going home with a clean bill of health quickly faded. She was accompanied by another woman in a white coat, one I hadn’t seen before. “Mr. Carter, this is Dr. Richards,” she introduced her companion. “She’s a cardiologist. I’ve asked her to consult on your case.”

The word “cardiologist” scared me, but I supposed it was standard practice for any patient who came in with symptoms of a heart attack to be seen by one. I offered the new doctor a nervous smile, which she did not return. I found her appearance just as intimidating as her title. She was twice my age, tall and severe-looking, with graying black hair that was cropped closely to her scalp. Yet when she spoke, her voice was much softer than I had imagined it would be.

“May I take a listen, Mr. Carter?” She took a step forward, removing the stethoscope from around her neck and slipping it into her ears.

I nodded, licking my lips. My mouth felt dry. “Y’all can call me Nick,” I said as she pressed the other end of the stethoscope to my chest. I preferred to be called by my first name; “Mr. Carter” felt way too formal.

Dr. Richards didn’t reply at first. Frowning in concentration, she listened for almost a full minute before she finally spoke. “Have you had any chest pain or heart palpitations prior to today, Nick?”

“Um… yeah,” I admitted as I thought back to the morning of our last show in Mexico again. “A few times, I guess. But it’s never been this bad before. I always thought it was just heartburn from eating and drinking too much.” I avoided looking at AJ, who was sitting by my bed, but I could feel his eyes on me.

“And how often do you drink alcohol?” the doctor asked, her frown deepening.

Every day, I thought guiltily, but I couldn’t bring myself to say so out loud, especially in front of AJ. “I dunno… it depends. I mean, I may have a few drinks when I go out with my friends like I did last night, but I don’t do that every night.”

She followed that with more questions about my drinking, diet, and exercise habits, which I answered in half-truths. “Do you ever experience shortness of breath during exercise?” she asked as she slid her stethoscope lower.

I shrugged. “Sometimes. Doesn’t everyone?”

She gave me a long look, her dark eyes lingering on my face even after I lowered my eyes in embarrassment. “Has it gotten any worse lately?” She didn’t even know me, yet somehow, she seemed to know I was lying. Maybe she could hear the truth through her stethoscope.

“Yeah… I guess.” I felt both ashamed and worried when I remembered how I had struggled to catch my breath between songs at our concerts, so winded I could barely keep up with the choreography and sing on key at the same time. I’d told myself it was just because I was overweight and out of shape, but now I wondered if there was another, more serious reason for my lack of stamina. Could it be cancer? What other kind of illness could make me feel like an alien predator was feasting on my internal organs?

The doctor leaned me forward and placed her stethoscope on my back to listen to my lungs. “Take deep breaths for me, please,” she said, repositioning the round disc between exhalations.

When she finally finished her exam, Dr. Richards let me lie back against the head of the bed again. “We need to talk about your test results,” she said, looking down at me with another frown.

Oh god, I thought, finally glancing over at AJ. Maybe I really am dying. As I met his eyes, I saw the same fear reflected in their dark brown depths. Despite our differences, I was glad to have him there for moral support.

My heart started thumping again, the monitor beeping faster. I could hardly breathe. “What is it?” I asked in a whisper as I returned my attention to Dr. Richards.

“You said you had ‘a few drinks’ last night?” She raised her eyebrows, exchanging glances with the doctor who had examined me earlier. “According to your labs, you must have done a lot more than that. Your blood alcohol level was .12. We also detected an array of drugs in your system, including oxycodone, cocaine, and ecstasy.”

So that was what she wanted to talk about.

“Jesus, Nick!” I heard AJ hiss. I hung my head to avoid looking at him again, my cheeks burning with shame. “Were you trying to kill yourself?”

“No… I was just trying to have fun.” Tears filled my eyes, but I blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. I didn’t want to cry in front of the two women.

“You should have told me the truth when I asked,” the ER doctor said sternly. “Each of those substances, including alcohol, can have adverse effects on the heart when ingested in large quantities, but taken together, the combination can be deadly. You didn’t have a heart attack this time, but you very well could have.”

“I didn’t take them all at the same time,” I muttered, reaching up to swipe at my right eye as a single tear escaped and started trickling down my cheek. I hadn’t told the doctor the truth because I didn’t think it was wise to admit to using illegal drugs. I was still on informal probation for my DUI three years ago; if she decided to turn me in to the authorities, I could be arrested again. But the tangle of wires attached to my chest told me that was the least of my concerns. I was facing a different kind of trouble now.

“It doesn’t matter. They still ended up in your bloodstream together, which means they’ve been circulating around your body together, going through your heart together. And I’m guessing this isn’t the first time that’s happened, is it?”

“No,” I admitted, finally glancing up.

She gave a smug nod. “I didn’t think so. Your test results raised several red flags that warrant further investigation, which is why I’m referring you to Dr. Richards.”

The cardiologist cleared her throat. “We’re here to help you, Nick, but you have to be honest with us.” She didn’t raise her voice, but her dark eyes seemed to penetrate right through me. “After reviewing your test results, I agree with Dr. Po’s assessment. Your heart appeared to be slightly enlarged on the chest X-ray, which can be a sign of another condition. The EKG also showed some subtle abnormalities that suggest there may be a problem with your heart.”

My heart began to pound harder as I stared at her, struggling to process what she was telling me. Deep down, I had known – or at least feared – for weeks, maybe even months, that there was something wrong with me. But now that I was here in a hospital bed with two doctors confirming my fears, flat-out telling me there was something wrong with me, I didn’t want to hear or accept it.

“I’d like to admit you to the hospital for more testing and observation,” she added.

I blinked at the doctor in disbelief. This felt like a bad dream. It couldn’t be real. I reached down and pinched my leg. It hurt. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping I would wake up to find myself back in my bed at Kevin’s house. But when I opened my eyes, I was still sitting in the hospital bed, hooked up to tubes and wires. The two doctors were staring at me, waiting for me to say something. AJ had stayed unusually silent during their lecture, but he looked ready to start arguing with me if I tried to refuse.

“Nick?” Dr. Richards asked. “Would you be open to that?”

Another wave of deja vu washed over me as I remembered Kevin having a similar conversation with his doctor the day before. I didn’t want to stay in the hospital any more than he had. But, against my will, I heard myself reply, “Yeah, okay… whatever you think is best.”

“Good,” she said with a nod. “I’ll get the admission paperwork started and check back in with you later today after you’ve been moved to an inpatient room.”

“Wait!” I called as she turned to leave. “Is… is there any way you could put me in the same room with my friend who’s already here?”

Quickly, I told her about Kevin, making it sound like I wanted to stay with him so he wouldn’t be alone, when, really, I was the one who didn’t want to be alone. The truth was, I had never been hospitalized before, and I was terrified. I may have been a twenty-eight-year-old man, but at that moment, as I fought back tears, I felt more like a frightened eight-year-old little boy.

Dr. Richards looked at me for a long time, giving me the impression of being X-rayed by her eyes again. Finally, she replied, “Let me talk to a few people. We might be able to arrange that.”

I gave her a grateful nod. “Thank you.”

After she and the other doctor left, AJ looked over at me. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

I shook my head. “Apparently not.”

He sighed. “You need help, Nick.”

The last thing I wanted was another lecture, but as much as I hated to hear those words, I couldn’t deny their truth any longer. Not now. Not after this. AJ was right. I did need help.

“I know,” I whispered, finally allowing my tears to spill over.

“Hey…” He reached out and rested his hand on my shoulder. “Whatever happens, I’m here for you, bro. Same way you were there for me when I was trying to get clean and sober. We’ll get through this together, all right?”

A lump rose in my throat. “Thanks, AJ,” I managed to say, swallowing hard.

He nodded. “No problem, Prick.” He patted my shoulder as he stood up. “I’m gonna go grab a cup of coffee and call Sam. Want me to bring you anything back from the cafe?”

I knew he was really just trying to give me some private time to pull myself together. Playing along, I shook my head. “I probably shouldn’t eat anything until I know what kind of tests they wanna do.”

“Good point. Maybe later, then, huh?”

After he left, the room was quiet except for the constant beeping of the heart monitor. I couldn’t help but listen to it as I lay back down on the bed and let my tears flow.

***