Chapter 34

 Richie was a molten mess of a man, closing his eyes as the ambulance raced along the road, its' sirens blaring. The paramedics were constantly checking his statistics: blood pressure, oxygen levels and heartbeat. He felt like a shell of a man, dead inside, even Jon had to be scrambled from his home in New Jersey to help out Evie. His eyes closed once again, his ears filled with the bleeping noise and rattle of the heart monitor and the thumping, throbbing pain in his head, like he was going to be sick. His arms and body limp as his head went into a deep state of thought.

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Evie stressed and sighed; Jon was impatient now, and raced through the busy road, jam-packed with lovesick holiday makers, trying to get to their hotels and various other locations. Evie had a thousand incarnations as she pondered twizzling the engagement ring on her finger. Jon looked at her, sweat evident on his brow. Finally, Jon reached the hospital; he slammed the door shut and dragged Evie behind him, he was worried about his best friend.

Richie breathed slowly and deeply as the dirty-blonde haired, Spanish consultant took yet another sample of blood. As if he was in a parallel universe, the world seemed slow and surreal somehow. Perhaps it was the pain relief drugs? If anything would keep him here, it would be Evie. He heard running, and laboured breathing, coming from down the hall, and it was getting closer.

Jon breathed heavily, and opened the door, exhausted after climbing way-too-many stairs; he looked directly at Richie, who, unknown to him, had his fiancé coming in to see him. "Richie? Is that you?" Evie asked, looking at the IV in his arm, and various other tubes, wires and cables in him. Evie wanted to cry. To weep and bury her head in Richie's chest, only he was the cause of sadness. Remarkably, Richie looked somewhat better than

what he did the previous day. His face was a little less pale, but, he was still very sick. Evie stepped forward, Richie smiled weakly her gaze was sometimes on his face, the other, on him.  Jon pulled up a chair next to the bed, patting on it to indicate that he wanted Evie to sit down. Nervously, she sat down hastily, taking Richie’s hand and stroking it gently.  His heartbeat sped up, to a normal rhythm and pulse, she smiled then. Though, a collection of doctors, a nurse and other various medical staff, stood at the foot of the bed, the lead doctor with a clipboard and a look of dismay on his face.

He shook his head and handed the clipboard to Richie. Diaphoresis. Richie looked shocked, the doctor started to speak: “It’s excessive sweating with a large decrease in weight”. Evie nodded. The pieces of the puzzle fitted together now, Richie’s loss in weight after the tour, his constant night sweats.  Jon pulled up a chair and sat by Evie as the medical crowd dispersed to take care of their various patients.  The dirty-blonde consultant still stood there.

“There are treatments” he replied, turning over a page and looking up. “Drugs, surgery or electrical impulses through the skin? Your choice, Richard”. Richie whimpered at the term ‘electrical impulses’. “Drugs” Richie replied hastily, his voice quiet and shrill, full of worry and fear. Evie held his hand tightly; Jon’s piercing blue eyes looked at Evie’s. Of course, since the drugs were prescription, the doctor with a Spanish accent, signed the paperwork to allow Richie the drugs.

When, he did come back, Jon and Evie were stood up, Jon’s hands stuffed in his pockets and he gave Evei the papers, and told her to pick them up from the pharmacy downstairs.

Evie nudged Richie; he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He put on his normal clothes, and they all shuffled down the stairs, Jon lead, then Richie and Evie last. Once they reached the pharmacy, Jon handed in Rich’s prescription, the chemist told them to have it: after every meal, one tablet three times a day and seven days a week.

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Richie looked at the pill, it was strange, he twizzled it around on his calloused fingers. “Go on, have it, if you want your health to improve” Evie told him, filling up his glass with water. Richie sighed and placed the pill at the back of his mouth, taking a massive gulp of water and washed it down. He licked his lips.