One Day Soon (One Day Soon, #1)(58)

“How are you feeling?” Dr. Howell asked him.

Yoss rubbed his hand over his nicely healing cuts and stitches. “I feel better actually. Not so tired. I didn’t throw up today, so that’s a bonus.”

Dr. Howell nodded and made some notes in Yoss’s chart. “I’m glad to hear that. The new medication is helping to decrease symptoms. Your color seems a bit better too, which is good.”

Dr. Howell turned to me. “Nurse Rogers told me that you took Yoss for a walk around the hospital yesterday.”

“Yes, I did. It wasn’t long. Just up to the roof and back.”

Crap. Was I going to get into trouble? Had I overstepped my boundaries?

Of course I had.

I was overstepping my boundaries all over the place.

“I hope that was all right. Yoss wanted to walk around for a bit. I thought it would be good for him.”

Dr. Howell waved a hand. “I think it’s a very good thing for Mr. Frazier to get up and about. Now that his internal injuries and the biopsy incision are healing it’s best for him to get some exercise. It’s just important that as he’s recovering he not over-exert himself.”

“Of course. That goes without saying.”

Dr. Howell looked at Yoss again. “It seems to have perked you up considerably, Yoss. So whatever Imogen is doing, she needs to keep doing it, I’d say.”

Yoss’s eyes flashed in my direction. “She’s helping a lot,” he said quietly.

“Good. Good. Everyone here at the hospital is committed to getting you healthy.” Dr. Howell opened the chart again and slid his glasses up over his nose. “I finally received the results from your biopsy and the other blood panels we ran. So let’s go over them and then we can talk about options.” Dr. Howell sat down in a chair opposite me.

“Options are good to have,” Yoss said lightly, glancing at me again, his lips turning up slightly at the private joke. I couldn’t smile back. I was focused on Dr. Howell as he flipped through the pages in Yoss’s chart.

“Nurse Rogers says you’ve healed nicely from the biopsy. Are you feeling any residual soreness?” he asked and Yoss shook his head.

“Not really. The first couple of days were a little rough. But it’s fine now,” Yoss answered.

“That’s excellent. Because as we’ve talked about before, with your condition, the risk of infection is high. You were given a heavy antibiotic after the surgery as a precaution.”

Flip, flip, flip through the chart. I was on edge. Yoss, who finally seemed to pick up on Dr. Howell’s placating vibe, folded his hands together in his lap and clenched them tightly.

“High risk for infection. Got it.” Yoss’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“I want to have you moved out of the ICU tomorrow morning. There’s no need for you to stay in intensive care and a bed has opened up on the second floor.”

“Oh, that’s good,” I interjected.

“Yes, given everything, you’re doing very well, Yoss,” Dr. Howell went on.

“Given everything? That sounds pretty f*cking ominous. Can we cut the crap and get to the main act here? What did the biopsy say?” he snapped impatiently.

Dr. Howell wasn’t fazed by Yoss’s attitude. The older doctor read over the results and then cleared his throat. When he looked at Yoss again, his eyes were kind and compassionate, his expression concerned and serious.

“Your biopsy confirmed that you have end stage liver disease. Your liver function is very low and you are at significant risk for acute liver failure,” Dr. Howell said succinctly. Carefully. Gently. His words falling between us like shrapnel.

This was my cue to say something supportive, just as I would have done for any of my other patients. But this was Yoss. And I felt the reality of his situation hit me square in the chest.

Yoss began to pick at his stitches. “Okay. You had mentioned liver failure before. I think I got that part.”

“I’m going to be frank with you, Yoss, your condition is very serious. Hepatitis B is a tricky disease because of how long it can take to show symptoms. The longer it goes untreated, the more likely you are to suffer from liver damage. That however, isn’t insurmountable. A strong course of antibiotics as well as treatment with medication and we can significantly slow down the progress of the disease and the impact on the liver. However—” Dr. Howell stopped for a moment and gave Yoss and long and penetrating look. “Your situation, Yoss is a bit more complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” he muttered. He was biting on his lower lip, his knuckles white as he clenched the sheet in his fist.

“To put it simply, your best chance is to have a liver transplant and the results from your biopsy show that you are a prime candidate. The good news, Yoss, is that there is no indication of vascular invasion. That means that the areas around the liver don’t appear to be affected. Yet. That increases the likelihood of a successful transplant, ” Dr. Howell concluded.

I finally found my voice. “That’s great.” I turned to Yoss and gave him a smile. “See, some good news.” He didn’t return my enthusiasm, so I spoke again to Dr. Howell. “Okay, well didn’t you say that he’d be high on the list? That he’d be given priority if the health impact was significant enough?”