During this time, while the nurse was coming back and forth and I was being hydrated, Tiff was not sitting idly by, and nor were the doctors. Tiff went back and forth to the waiting room to call the various parents to keep them updated. She was also keeping me company of course, but I doubt I was a very interesting conversationalist.
I remember waiting for quite some time to see a doctor, but eventually, not long after my blood was taken, a female doctor came in wearing a mask. She explained that she was wearing a mask because she was pregnant, and she was dealing with patients with various unknown ailments, and didn't want to risk anything. She did what I imagine to be the usual doctor routine, checking pulses, blood pressure, sticking the little light thingie into my mouth and ears, and all that sort of stuff. She also checked out my arm by picking it up and rubbing it up and down pretty hard.
"Does that hurt?"
"Umm...actually no, not while you're doing that."
"Or maybe you're just really tough?"
"Umm...actually no. Not really."
She was fine with continuing on the pain "regimen" the nurse had started, and said she'd come back when the blood results came in. She was of the opinion that I probably had some type of infection, and I'd need to be on antibiotics.
When she came back, she had my blood results and asked a bunch of questions about my behaviours, even miming sticking a needle in her arm while asking if I used drugs. I'm pretty sure the answer was "no" to just about all of her questions.
"Okay, so...I'm going to get an infectious diseases specialist to come in and see you, because you probably have some sort of infection."
Hmmmm...okay, that didn't sound too bad.
"The other thing is...and I'm not a specialist so this is probably way off base, but I'm going to have someone else look at your results, because, and I repeat, this is just a precaution, you may have Leukemia."
The nice doctor looked distressed when she said this, but it didn't bother me. I knew I didn't have Leukemia. I had an infection.
Tiff didn't seem to distressed either, or at least she didn't show it if she did. She went out and called around about the news, including the phony Leukemia suspicion.
Eventually the disease specialist came by to talk to us. He looked like a stereotypical doctor. Dark hair, nerdy glasses, all he needed was a white coat and a stethoscope...of which he had both of course. He asked me all the same questions the previous doctor asked, and he also did the needle in the arm motion. I guess they teach that in medical school. After all his questions were asked and answered, we were still at a loss as to how I might have contracted whatever this condition was. He then looked at me a little fearfully.
"Okay...now I just have one more question...I'm sorry to have to ask this...I'm sure it'll come up negative, but we have to check everything," I'm pretty sure he was sweating at this point, he was so nervous, "so we'll probably end up doing an HIV test...again, just to be sure. Is that okay?" He looked embarrassed, and scared that I was going to freak out on him.
"Oh, that's fine." He seemed relieved that I didn't get indignant about his "assault on my character. I didn't bother pointing out that even if I did end up having HIV, it could have been all Tiffany's fault as opposed to mine, couldn't it?
He finally confirmed that I did, indeed, have some sort of infection, and he'd be starting me on some antibiotics. He didn't know the exact type of infection, but he would be back in the morning with more information. I asked him how long I'd have to be in the hospital.
"Oh...I'd say maybe a few days, but probably closer to a week."
I'm sure the look I gave him made him feel like he'd shot my dog.
"A whole week? Oh my god, this sucks."