Love In The Fast Lane Part 28

"Then what is it, Noah? Are you mad at me?"

"No, Dad," he croaked and in the next instant he lurched forward and vomited all over the front of Nate's shirt.

He picked up the bent over child and ran to the bathroom where he convulsed again and threw up all over the porcelain tiles. He held Noah up and rubbed his back as the young boy continued to throw up. When the entire contents of his stomach was out on the floor, he slumped against Nate. His body was cold and he shivered against Nate.

"Come on buddy, let's get you cleaned up and in bed."

He stripped Noah down and put him into the tub, then took off his own soiled shirt before bathing the limp child.

"You eat something bad buddy? You coming down with a bug?"

Noah groaned and Nate quickly dressed him and tucked him into bed.

"Where am I, Dad?" he asked, looking deliriously around the room.

"You're at my house, Noah. Don't you remember? You spent the night here yesterday, too."

Noah stared at him blankly, no recollection of the previous night.

Nate started to feel panicked. What was going on with Noah?

"Please turn the lights off," Noah requested, shading his eyes from the dim night light. "It hurts my eyes."

Nate reached across and switched off the lamp, bathing the room in the dark moonlight.

Noah drifted off to sleep but Nate wouldn't leave the room. He decided to sit it out in the oversized chair in the corner. He needed to make sure that Noah was ok.

The insistent buzz of her cell phone vibrating on her dresser jarred Brielle out of her slumber. It was an unknown number. She checked her watch, two in the morning. Who could possibly be calling her at this hour? Still half asleep, she answered, "h.e.l.lo."

"Mrs. Woods?" a female voice asked.

She didn't bother correcting the t.i.tle error. "Yes?"

"You're speaking to Nurse Quinn at County General Hospital."

Brielle sat stock still in bed, her pulse starting to race and her blood running cold.

"Your son, Noah Woods, was admitted over an hour ago and we need you to come in please."

"What happened? Did he have an accident?" Brielle's mind was spinning.

"He's with the doctor now, we don't know what's wrong yet."

Brielle disconnected, dressed frantically and was at the hospital in less than ten minutes. She barged into the emergency room and searched desperately for a doctor or nurse who could give her some information. She finally found a nurse and stopped her before she could slip out of the room. "I'm looking for Noah Woods. Can you help me?"

"Are you his parent or guardian?"

"I'm his mother."

She looked Brielle up and down before saying, "He's still with the doctor."

"What happened? n.o.body will give me a straight answer."

"He came in convulsing and vomiting profusely. He wasn't reactive and the doctor on call could not provide an initial prognosis. He's with the specialist physician now."

"Can I see him?"

"Not yet, you will have to wait in the family room till the doctor is done." She pointed in the direction of the waiting room and left Brielle standing there alone with her confused thoughts.

She walked into the family room and found Nate slumped over, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. When she walked in he glanced up and Brielle saw the concern on his face.

"How bad is it?" she asked, not bothering with pleasantries.

"They don't know yet."

"What happened?"

"He was throwing up all night, even though he barely ate. He was confused and delirious. I brought him here when the seizures started. I don't know what happened."

He put his head back in his hands and rubbed his eyes, leaving Brielle wondering if he was crying. How bad was it if Noah was having seizures? Her pulse quickened again and she speculated how long before her nervous system would crash with the increased heartbeats.

They sat on opposite sides of the room for a long while, both torturing themselves with their own thoughts. When the doctor came in, they stood simultaneously, wringing their hands in anxious antic.i.p.ation.

"Are you Noah's parents?" the bald-headed doctor asked.

"Yes," they answered in unison.

"I'm afraid the prognosis is not good."

Brielle's world felt like it was spinning out of control, hearing the doctor's words as though she were suspended above the room, outside of her body.

"Noah has lost a lot of electrolytes so he's very weak. The seizures have continued from time to time and the rash on his back has spread."

She heard Nate beside her mutter, "What rash?"

"We're not sure exactly what's wrong with him just yet. We need to ask you both a few questions first."

Brielle nodded subconsciously.

"Has he had any changes to his diet of late? Anything new introduced?"

"No."

"Has he been ill recently?"

"No."

"When did the symptoms start?"

Brielle looked to Nate. "The retching started early yesterday evening. Before that he was just listless and pale." He explained.

The doctor nodded in acknowledgement.

"Has he complained of pain recently?"

"He was sore yesterday," Brielle responded, "but I just a.s.sumed it was from his recent excursion."

"What excursion was that?"

"He went to an animal farm with his school."

"What animals did he come into contact with?"

Her body started to shake as panic started to overwhelm her. "He mentioned pigs and horses and cows."

"Was he in a woody, bushy area?"

"I think so. He said he played in a lot of soil." Brielle kicked herself for not paying more attention to Noah's incessant chatter about his trip. "What do you think is wrong with him?" she pleaded.

"It's too early to tell but he has symptoms that could be Lyme disease, which could be caused from a tick bite from one of the animals."

Brielle's knees buckled and in the next instant Nate's arm was around her waist, holding her up against him.

"Is there a cure for it?" Nate asked.

"Lyme disease can be cured with antibiotics, depending on the stage of the disease. But we need to make an informed diagnosis first. I have him scheduled for the tests now and we should know in the next hour."

Brielle nodded as the doctor left the room. Nate led her to the sofa and he sat down beside her.

He was quiet for so long that when he did speak, she was startled by the sound of his voice, "This is all my fault."

"How is it your fault?"

"I should have brought him in sooner. I should have known he wasn't well. I'm his father, I should have known. I thought he caught a flu bug or something." He stared off into the distance, at war with his own thoughts.

"You couldn't have known, Nate. I wouldn't have known either. As much as I'd like someone to blame, this isn't your fault."

The look in his eyes told Brielle that he still thought otherwise.

Brielle drifted off into a fitful sleep. She dreamed of giant ticks crawling all over her body and trying to get to Noah and Nate, too. She was battling to save them but the ticks were holding her down. She awoke with a start to find a commotion outside the waiting area. Nurses and doctors alike were racing into the Emergency Room and Brielle's heart stopped with fear that it was Noah they were rushing to. She realized at that moment that Nate wasn't with her. Had he gone home?

She looked around frantically for hospital personnel. She needed answers. She looked at her watch and saw that it was close to three am. The tests on Noah must have come back already. She wanted to see her son. She walked to the nurses station and noticed that Nate was already there, talking to one of the orderlies.

"Hey," he greeted when she joined him.

"Hey, is there any news?"

He shook his head, his eyes red with fatigue and his hair mussed up like he'd been running his fingers through it. He looked like he hadn't slept for days.

"Nothing yet, the nurse said we can go see him though."

Nate led the way as they entered the pediatric ward and walked into Noah's room. He lay in the corner of the small bed, huddled up into himself. His skin was pale and clammy, his eyes sunken into his face and his hair looked matted and damp.

Nate gave her the s.p.a.ce to stand beside his bed and stroke Noah's hair. His eyes fluttered open, looking dazed and confused.

"Momma?" he muttered.

"I'm right here, baby boy," she bent to kiss his sweaty forehead, holding his small cold hand in her warm one, barely keeping the choked sob in.

"Where's Dad?"

"I'm right here buddy," Nate came to stand beside Brielle at his bedside. His voice sounded gruff and Brielle noticed the moisture in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"What for son?"

"For ruining our sleepover."

"Don't be silly, my boy. You have nothing to apologize for. I just want you to get better so I can beat you at Little Big Planet."

Noah's eyes fluttered closed as Brielle and Nate stood beside him, watching over their child.

The doctor walked in, a grim expression on his face.

"What is it?" Nate asked, taking control when Brielle couldn't find her voice.

"It's not Lyme disease."

"That's good news, right?"

"I'm afraid not. We suspect it's meningitis."

Nate took her hand without turning to look back at her, giving her a small semblance of support.

The doctor continued, "It could be bacterial or viral but it's attacking his brain."

"What can you do?"

"We need to first determine which type it is and then we need to run blood tests and a lumbar puncture where we remove fluid from his spine and test it to make sure we are treating for meningitis."

"Is it painful?"

"It can be, yes. Especially for a child as young as Noah."

"What are the risks if we don't do the procedure?"

"If left untreated, Noah could develop deafness, epilepsy or other cognitive malfunctions. Brain damage is also a possibility."