Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“No.” He reaches out, hand on mine and keeping me in the chair. “I don’t want you to go.” Eric’s cheeks get slightly pink. Just a little while ago he was telling me I could go, but now he’s asking me to stay. This reaction rings true and feels a whole lot more like Eric. Again, we’re codependent, but I don’t feel it’s in an unhealthy way. Or I guess as healthy as codependency can be. Whatever. We’re just us. “I’ve never broken something before.”
I can’t help but grin. Eric is the most adorable golden retriever there is, and I love him for it. “How about I get something out of the vending machine, at least?”
“Two somethings?” He perks up, and I chuckle.
“Deal.”
I head over and get him Nutter Butters and plain potato chips, which he loves. I already ate breakfast, so I don’t get myself food, but I do get each of us a water.
“Where’s the soda?” Eric asks when I come back.
“You get a soda if you drink the water first. You never drink enough water.” He’s terrible about it.
“Water is gross.”
“It tastes like nothing.”
“Exactly. Which is why it’s gross.”
“You’re such a kid.” I give him the snacks and the drink, then sit beside him.
When an hour passes, I go up and ask for ice for Eric’s ankle. I’m not feeling super confident in their give-a-shit capacity here, but they give the ice over. Maybe I should have brought him to the ED where I work, but I figure his emergency room co-pay is higher than for the urgent care.
Finally, three hours after we arrive, they call Eric to the back. I push his chair toward the door, making sure to give them the look that says the only person who can talk me out of going back there with him is Eric himself, but luckily, they don’t call me on it.
They take his vitals. His blood pressure is slightly higher than normal, but I figure that’s because of the pain and stress.
“Yeah, it definitely looks angry.” The medical assistant nods toward his ankle. “The doctor should be here in just a minute.”
She excuses herself, and I look over to Eric to say something, but he’s bent forward, elbows on his knees, good leg bouncing. “Hey, are you nervous about the doctor?” I’ve never known him to have any medical anxiety like that, but also, as long as I’ve known him, I’ve never been to the doctor with Eric. It was always the other way around. But after losing his dad to cancer, it makes sense he would feel overwhelmed here and…does that mean he was feeling that way every time he came with me only he hid it?
“No. I just…you’re gonna kill me.”
That makes me frown. “I highly doubt that. What happened?”
“I was trying not to tell you, but I’m freaking the fuck out here.”
My heart nearly beats its way out of my chest. I’ve got to be the one with higher blood pressure right now as my head spins with all the things Eric might have to say.
Before I can ask him what’s happening, Eric drops his head back, closes his eyes, and says, “I don’t have medical insurance.”
“Excuse me, what?”
“I don’t have medical insurance. Cliff doesn’t offer it. I looked into a private policy, but it’s outrageously expensive. I knew the rent at my apartment would be going up, and I thought, what the hell? I’m a young, healthy guy. What could go wrong? And I get that it was stupid, okay? Especially because I know what you’ve been through, and I know how us having good insurance saved my family with Dad. It was dumb, so please don’t tell me that.”
His speech knocks the wind out of me for a moment, distracting me from the core issue. “I would never call you dumb. You know that, right? You’re not stupid, babe. I’ve never thought that.” But I know Eric does—it’s one of the few things he tries to hide from me.
“Well, you probably should because obviously, I am.”
“Don’t say that.” He gives me a frustrated look, so I add, “I’m serious. It was a mistake. We all make them, and it’s not your fault that the medical industry in this country is fucked up. It shouldn’t bankrupt people to carry insurance or to get sick, but I just…why didn’t you tell me? That things have been so difficult?”
He opens his mouth to respond just as the door opens and the doctor comes in. “Good afternoon, Mr. Markham. Let’s take a look at that ankle.”
The air in the room is thick as the doctor does his exam. I watch carefully the whole time, making sure he’s giving Eric a thorough examination, which helps distract from the fact that my best friend in the world, my person, has been having money issues and I didn’t know. He doesn’t have medical insurance, and he didn’t feel comfortable telling me. Probably because he knew I’d freak out, that I would worry, and Eric is always trying to take care of me. Even though I try, I’m never able to take care of him in the same ways.