Skinny Boy ✔

Chapter 44: was it all lies?

One of the worst parts of being bed-ridden is not being able to get up and go to the bathroom. It's awkward to pee in a pan, and to have a nurse standing next to you, waiting until you're done. But what's even more awkward is having him take the pan from the bed, only to watch the blood drain from his face. He paused for a second, as though forgetting I was there at all.

"What?" I asked, but he didn't give an answer. Walking swiftly through the door, he took the pan to the nearest nurse, and said something out of earshot.

I was left there wondering what happened, confused by his reaction, and unsure of how to react, myself. Mom had stepped outside to make it less awkward, and said she would use the bathroom herself in the meantime. She wasn't there to walk out after the nurse, and I was bound to a bed, tied by wires. So all I could do was assume the worst case scenario before settling on the hopes that he was being over dramatic. 

~

As promised, the general doctor scheduled an appointment with an endocrinologist to see about tapering me off steroids. I found myself shaking from the moment he announced the appointment, to the moment I heard the anticipated knock on the door. 

It now seemed all too real. It was no longer a secret that I let slip out. It was no longer a silly mistake that I could pretend away. It was real, my last resort for any sort of physical attractiveness was gone, and I couldn't go back. 

This is real. It's actually happening. 

"Hey, Nathan, I'm Dr. Brown," he introduced himself. He wore a white lab coat that shone against his deep skin, making him look so pristine when compared to my ragged, beat-up body, sitting in a hospital bed, dressed in nothing but a thin hospital gown. "Do you go by Nathan, or Nate?" 

I was actually taken aback that he asked that...that he was being casual. With all the tense people in this hospital, it felt like a breath of fresh air. "Nate is fine." 

"So your general physician told me what kinds of steroids you're on," he began. "He said you started to explain the doses, and that they sounded pretty high?" 

I shrugged. "I guess so." 

"Right," he offered a halfhearted smile. "So did you have a normal steroid cycle that you went by?"

"Yeah. The chart's at home.In my desk, top drawer." I said, more to my parents than the doctor. I turned back to Dr. Brown with a tired, confused look. "Why?" 

"I want to know how we can best work with you to get you off them." I tensed at that. He must have noticed, because he quickly added, "With time, of course. I wouldn't dream of taking you off everything, all at once." 

"Is he addicted to them?" he asked. 

"No, you can't get addicted to it," I grumbled. How many times do I have to say it? 

Dr. Brown gave a similar answer, but with a more reasonable way of putting it. "Not necessarily, no." 

"So what's the problem, then?" dad pressed. "If he isn't addicted, can't he just quit cold turkey? I mean, these things are doing him more harm than good." 

I resisted the really strong urge to roll my eyes. 

"While Nate may not be addicted," Dr. Brown began, calmer than the both of us, "with the dosage levels he has been taking, his body has grown dependent on it." 

Dad's eyebrows settled back in place as reason settled in. But it was mom who asked the next question. "So what are we supposed to do, ween him off?" 

"Yes. Tapering the doses overtime would minimize the withdrawal symptoms..." I zoned out as he droned on about withdrawal symptoms, and his plans for tapering. I couldn't focus on the topic any longer.