Monday evening, Sabrina’s father arrived with a worried look on his face. He’d been in the room only a few minutes when the door swung open and Dr. Freeman, the infectious disease specialist, came to stand at the end of Sabrina’s bed. “We’ve got a definitive diagnosis. I have just spoken with the pathologist and we are ready to move forward with treatment.”
“Thank goodness. Will I be able to go home now?”
“Maybe by the end of the week. We want to start you out on IV treatment before we switch you over to oral meds.” She looked down at the chart.
“Couldn’t we just begin with the oral stuff? I really need to get back to class this week.”
Dr. Freeman nodded. “You really need to get this infection under control, too. It has the potential to be very serious, especially given your immune-suppressed state. We are going to treat you especially aggressively.”
“Great, just great.” Sabrina sighed, then looked toward Dr. Freeman. “Sorry, didn’t mean to whine. What’s the plan and how soon can we get this started?”
“I’m starting the paper work now, but it will take a while to get it in motion. The plan, first off, is to keep you off your arthritis meds other than naproxen for pain and inflammation. We absolutely cannot afford to suppress your immune system right now. We are going to start you out on an IV medication that has the broadest range of coverage for this type of disease. The drug is called amphotericin, but I must be honest. Among the medical community, it is known as ampho-terrible.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.” Mom’s eyes were huge with worry.
“Do whatever you have to do. Let’s just get this show on the road.” Sabrina would take anything just to get her treatment started and to get out of this place.
It was five hours later before all the procedures had been met and the nurse brought in the first bottle of IV medication. “There are lots of side effects with this one. I know we’ve gone over all of them with you, but push your call button and we’ll help you with what we can. I’m going to stay in here with you for the first few minutes and make sure everything is okay.”
“Sure.” A minute later what felt like fire entered Sabrina’s arm. She reached up and put her hand just below her IV line out of instinct, taking a deep breath. She supposed there was nothing to do but withstand it, but this hurt.
“Is it burning?”
“Yes.”
The nurse pulled out a plastic pack, bent it to break something inside, and put it on Sabrina’s arm. “Try this. Heat usually helps.”
And it did. To some degree.
Then the shakes started. Whole body, uncontrollable shakes.
Somewhere during the six-hour long ordeal, Sabrina’s father took a seat right beside the bed, and every few minutes he would jump up to get a new heating pack for her arm in an effort to stop the burning.
Though she’d long ago let herself get lost in the pain and fire and shaking, she could feel him beside her. He’d put his head on the side of the bed and rubbed Sabrina’s arms, and she swore she heard him mumbling the words “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”