One Day Soon (One Day Soon, #1)(59)

“His MELD score is high, which means the wait time is significantly less. However, I want you to be aware, Yoss, that even with high priority, you could be waiting for several weeks, even months, before a transplant is made available.”

Yoss’s face had gone grim. His green eyes dull.

“Let’s be straight here, Dr. Howell, what you’re saying is that I could quite possibly die before I get a new liver?” Yoss was angry. Really angry. And I could understand why.

How else were you supposed to feel about the idea that you could die? Even though Yoss had been reckless in his choices, the realization that death was a possibility would knock anyone down.

“Your condition is potentially fatal, yes, but so is walking across the street during rush hour,” Dr. Howell pointed out and Yoss snorted.

“I don’t think you can compare playing Frogger across the road with my liver giving out, but nice try,” he remarked dryly.

Dr. Howell closed the chart in his lap, his face set in severe sternness. “Yoss, you are a very sick man. I will always give you the facts as I have them. But you have many options. There are treatments available that cannot only slow down the disease’s progression until a transplant becomes available, but can also make you feel better. To give you back your quality of life. But mental outlook impacts every part of this process. I spoke with Imogen about getting you some counseling. The medication you are taking can cause an increase in depression and suicidal thoughts. It’s incredibly important that you talk to someone. They can help you process what you’ve been through. Help you with coping skills.”

“Dr. Howell’s right, Yoss. Speaking to someone, even informally, could help you tremendously. I know a number of wonderful therapists who could come to talk to you—”

“So how long do I have to stay here then?” Yoss interrupted, not acknowledging that I had spoken at all. “I can’t hole up in the hospital for months while I wait for a possible transplant that may never come. I don’t have insurance. And I sure as shit know that the hospital won’t keep me here indefinitely if they’re not getting paid.”

“As I said earlier, you will be moved out of the ICU later today. I am recommending that you remain in hospital, for at least a few more days. Your injuries sustained from your attack have healed nicely. And if you remain vigilant about taking your anti-viral medication, you can go about your life. However, you would have to come back for frequent follow-ups to monitor your symptoms and your viral counts. This would mean routine blood work and tests. While you are physically stronger, given your situation, I have serious concerns about your health once you leave. I’m assuming you and Imogen have talked about where you will go once you are discharged?” Dr. Howell looked at me and I nodded.

“Yes, Dr. Howell, we’ve talked about the Salvation Army downtown. Tracey Higgins says they have available beds. But Yoss and I are still discussing it.”

Yoss gritted his teeth and I anticipated an outburst at the mention of the shelter. I was relieved when there wasn’t one.

“I would strongly encourage you to find suitable accommodation. Somewhere safe, clean, and warm. I don’t feel comfortable signing off on your discharge until we know you can properly look after yourself.”

“I’m not a child, Doc. I’ve been properly looking after myself since I was twelve,” Yoss spat out.

I reached over and put my hand on his arm, not caring that Dr. Howell was in the room. “He only means that with your diagnosis, you have to be somewhere clean. Somewhere that lowers the risk of a possible infection. We don’t want anything to happen to you, Yoss,” I said softly.

Yoss met my eyes. He wasn’t just angry.

He was terrified.

“But again, I want you to stay in hospital for another two to three days at the very least. You still need some rest and until you secure housing, I think it’s best to keep you here. Okay?” Dr. Howell said, his eyes flitting from Yoss to me and then back again.

Yoss nodded, his gaze drifting to the window. The sun was dipping below the horizon and it was mostly dark. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his face drawn.

“All right, we will talk more about this tomorrow. It’s almost dinnertime; make sure you’re eating as much as you’re able to. Especially now that the nausea is subsiding.” Dr. Howell stood up. “Imogen, a word.”

I let go of Yoss’s arm and just as I was about to move away, he grabbed my hand and held it tightly.

I squeezed his fingers.

He squeezed back.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” I assured him.

“Can I watch the rest of the movie?” Yoss asked, his voice small.

“Sure.” I pulled the table back around and clicked the mouse.

“Thanks,” Yoss murmured. “I have to see if they ever find the lady. It’ll bother me all night otherwise.”

“You’ve seen this movie before. You know what happens,” I chuckled.

“I just like to make sure some things don’t change,” he said with a strained smile as his eyes drifted back to the screen.

I joined Dr. Howell out in the hallway where he was updating Jill Rogers, the head nurse on duty, about Yoss’s medications.

When he was finished, Dr. Howell turned to me. “I’m very concerned about Mr. Frazier.”