by L. A. Casey
“I don’t know,” I admitted and hugged her tighter.
We separated when a knock sounded on Kane’s door. The door opened and a middle-aged man stepped in. I instantly knew he was Kane’s doctor. He had a clipboard in his hand, a long white coat on his body, and a stethoscope around his neck. Classic doctor attire.
“Huh, full house in here.” The doctor smiled then focused on Kane. “I’m Doctor Chance, and you’re my newest patient, Mr. Slater.”
“Lucky me,” Kane deadpanned.
Branna hissed at Kane, “Be nice!” She then looked at the doctor. “Ignore him; he is just being crabby today.”
I wiped my face and smiled at Branna’s motherly tone.
The doctor grinned and shook hands with Branna, then the brothers who introduced themselves one by one. He nodded his head to all of us when we threw our names into the pool, and I wanted to chuckle. He probably wouldn’t remember a single name when he left the room.
“I’m going to cut to the chase here, folks. Mr. Slater isn’t very well.”
“No shit, doc. Tell me something I don’t know,” Kane snorted.
I narrowed my eyes at his rude arse, and then mentally bitch slapped him.
“Sit back, Mr. Slater, and listen closely because the following conversation will definitely be something you don’t know.”
Oh, shite.
“Just give it to me straight, doc,” Kane sighed. “What’s wrong with me?”
The doctor flipped through pages from Kane’s chart then looked up at him. “I had the nurses gather information from your family members while you were sleeping last night. The nurses then filled me in on your health over the past year. Based on the symptoms you were presenting, I had the night staff draw blood so it could be sent down to the lab for testing.”
I raised my eyebrow. “What type of tests were performed on his blood?”
The doctor looked at me. “Glucose and haemoglobin A1C.”
I blinked my eyes when my mind recognised the tests and what they were for.
“Diabetes?” I questioned. “You were testing for diabetes?”
The doctor raised his eyebrow at me. “Are you studying in the medical field?”
I shook my head. “No, no. I’m a primary school teacher. I just read a book before about diabetes and it had different types of testing that can be run to get a positive result. The tests you mentioned were two of them.”
A student of mine, Jessie, had diabetes type one and just because I was curious, I read up on it.
The doctor nodded his head to me. “Well, yes, you’re correct. I wanted to see if Mr. Slater here has diabetes.”
“And?” Nico pressed.
“And my theory was correct,” the doctor said then looked at Kane. “You do indeed have diabetes, Mr. Slater. Type one to be exact.”
None of us said anything until Kane opened his mouth and spoke.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I mean, my blood could have been tainted in the lab, right?”
The doctor nodded. “That is a possibility, but I had the tests ran three times for confirmation and nothing changed. The result was the same all three times. You’re a diabetic, Mr. Slater.”
“I’m a diabetic?” Kane mumbled to himself.
The room was quiet again, but not for long because I had a few questions that I wanted to be answered.
“Type one is the one that requires insulin, right?” I asked the doctor.
He nodded his head. “Yes, that is the very one.”
I frowned. “Isn’t that a children’s disease though?”
“Normally,” the doctor said and nodded his head. “It was dubbed with the name juvenile diabetes because it’s most commonly diagnosed in children, teenagers, or young adults. It can occur at any age, though.”
I blinked. “Oh, I see.”
“I don’t understand,” Kane sighed. “Wouldn’t I have known if I was diabetic? I mean, I would have had some signs, right?”
“Your brothers mentioned to the nurses last night about your extreme fatigue, weight loss, vomiting and so on over the past twelve months. It is very easy to look at these symptoms as a case of influenza, a vomiting bug or even a simple head cold,” the doctor explained. “There are many different symptoms for type one diabetes. Some people suffer from all of them and others have no signs at all. It varies from person to person.”
We all nodded our heads in understanding and waited for the doctor to continue.
“Your body is a special case, Mr. Slater. With a lot of people, the symptoms can start like the click of my fingers and things can progress quickly. Then there are cases like yours where people can be ill for a long period of time but not need treatment straight away. Your body managed to get by with what little insulin it produced itself for the past year, but the strain has started to show and it’s not enough anymore. Your collapsing last night is a prime example of that. Your body needs more insulin to survive than what it’s currently producing.”
I looked at Kane and saw he swallowed but nodded his head to the doctor, taking what he said at face value.
“The bad news about type one diabetes is that there is no cure for it. You will have it for the rest of your life. The good news is that it is manageable. You will need to take a daily injection of insulin, starting today. You will have a standard daily dose and it can be adjusted depending on your sugar level. While you were sleeping earlier, we sampled your blood sugar level so it will be a low dose today as you’re not actively moving, or consuming a lot of calories. That is the trick with your injections, the more active you are or the more calories you consume, the higher your dose needs to be. Don’t worry about that right now though, we will develop a schedule.”
The doctor went on as a nurse opened the door and wheeled in a trolley with a yellow bucket and other medical equipment on a large tray.
“Weekly appointments and check-ups will be set up until you’ve got a handle on your doses. It will become routine for you and I doubt it will be difficult for you to get a grasp of. You look like a man who knows about diet and exercise. You will just have to follow a new program to balance your body’s glucose level. Does that make sense?”
Kane nodded mutely then pointed his finger at the trolley next to the nurse.
“What’s that?” he asked, his voice low.
“Your first insulin dose. I’ll prescribe an insulin pen just because they are more convenient than dealing with a separate needle and bottle of insulin.”
Kane tensed up at the mention of the word ‘needle.’ He sat upright and he glared daggers at the doctor. “You are not sticking a needle in me.”
The doctor glanced at the brothers then back to Kane. “Your insulin must be injected under the skin, Mr. Slater. It cannot be taken orally because the acids in your stomach will destroy it.”
Kane swallowed. “I don’t care; you’re not sticking a needle in me. I don’t give a fuck.”
“Damn,” Ryder murmured. “Kane, you need this medication or you don’t get better. Period. You have to take it.”
Kane looked at his older brother, and at that moment he was a scared little boy. “Not a needle, Ryder. Please. Anything but a needle.”
I was shocked.
I had no idea he was so terrified of needles. I mean, he couldn’t be scared of them, he had a sleeve of tattoos so what was his problem?
Nico turned to the doctor. “He’s had some... bad experiences with needles in the past.”
He had? How?
The doctor frowned. “It has to be injected daily. I’m sorry, he has to receive this medication or... or he will die.”
I flung my hand over my mouth and widened my eyes. That was all I needed to hear for me to take this situation very seriously.
“I’ll do it,” I announced and dropped my hand to my side.
The doctor and nurse looked at me. “I’m sorry, but that isn’t protocol—”
I ignored the doctor and moved over to Kane’s side. He was panicking a
nd looked only seconds from jumping up out of the bed and doing God only knows what.
“Hey,” I murmured, my voice low. “Look at me, Kane.”
Kane’s eyes were wild as they locked on mine. “Not a needle. Please,” he begged.
I felt my eyes well up. “You trust me not to hurt you, don’t you?” I asked, keeping eye contact with him even as my tears fell.
Kane was hesitant. “Aideen... I can’t...”
“You trust me not to hurt you, don’t you?” I repeated.
Kane began to sweat but replied, “Yes, I know you won’t hurt me.”
I reached out and placed my palm on his cheek. “Then let me help you. Let me do this and get it out of the way. It’ll be over before you know it. I won’t ever hurt you, Kane. I promise.”
He held my gaze and I thought he would need more convincing, but just as I was about to open my mouth, he whispered, “Okay.”
He was agreeing?
Yes!
“Okay,” I breathed. “We’ve got this, okay? Me and you?”
“Me and you,” Kane repeated.
I kept looking at him and reached my right hand back.
“Give her the damn needle. He will only let her do it so give it to her,” I heard Nico growl in a low voice.
There was a bit of movement then I felt an object placed in my hand. “His stomach and arms are pretty toned, it will have to be in his thigh. A fatty area, like the inner thigh is best,” the doctor said, his voice low as not to freak out Kane.
I nodded my head and refocused on Kane. “Close your eyes for me.”
“Aideen, please... don’t stab me with it.”
Stab him with it?
Oh, God.
“It’s going to be one little prick in your inner thigh, that’s all,” I said, my lower lip trembling.
Kane held my gaze. “You promise?”
“I promise, sweetheart,” I replied, nodding my head.
He nodded his head back at me then closed his eyes.
He trusted me.
I looked down to his body and removed the blanket that covered him. I pushed the hospital gown up his leg, uncapped the needle the doctor handed me then reached inside to a part where I could grab a chunk of the fatty part of his inner thigh.
“Pinch the skin then insert the needle. Slowly inject the insulin, then hold for ten seconds so no insulin seeps out with any blood,” the doctor whispered.
I nodded and looked down to the needle in my hand. I held it correctly then pressed it into Kane’s thigh before I could think about what I was doing. I was scared if I thought about it then I would lose my nerve. I carefully pushed the insulin into his body, and then held it for ten seconds before I removed the needle.
I capped it, handed it back to the doctor then turned back to Kane. He still had his eyes closed, so I reached up and touched his face. “All done,” I whispered.
Kane blinked his eyes open. “I didn’t feel anything.”
I smiled. “Told you.”
Kane stared at me for a moment then reached out and pulled me into a hug. He said nothing, just held me tightly to his body.
“I’ll come back later to discuss a check-up appointment date for next week. I’ll also go through everything with him, and with you, about what to expect with his diabetes. We’ll keep him overnight again and if he is responding well to the injections he can go home tomorrow.”
I heard the brothers speak to the doctor then a door open and close.
“Are you okay?” I murmured.
Kane murmured, “Yes,” and then let me go. I pulled back and stared down at him, frowning. He closed his eyes and remained silent.
“What the hell was that? I’ve never seen him like that before,” Bronagh snapped at Nico.
Nico sighed. “It’s not my place to explain that, Bronagh. It’s up to Kane if he wants to tell you.”
“I don’t want to tell anything because we’re done speaking about that,” Kane said and opened his eyes. “And we’re done discussing injections of any type. I am not doing that shit again. No fucking way.”
I frowned.
He needed a daily insulin injection in order to balance his diabetes and stay well.
“It’s not up for discussion, Kane,” Branna started. “You will be taking the injections. I’ll do them for you—”
“No!” Kane shouted and cut Branna off. “Just... No.”
Ryder glared at Branna. “Stop pushing him.”
Branna glared right back at Ryder and snarled, “One of us has to. Otherwise he will get sick again. Is that what you want?”
Ryder shook his head and looked away from Branna’s burning gaze.
Shite.
Now, what was that about?
They looked at one another like they hated each other.
I shook my head clear and focused on what everyone else was saying.
“She’s right, Ryder,” Bronagh said. “He needs to take them. You can’t baby him.”
Alec butted in then. “We aren’t babying him, Bronagh! We’re being considerate. He doesn’t like needles. End of fucking story.”
“Hey!” Alannah snapped at Alec. “Don’t talk to her like that!”
“Don’t shout at him, Lana,” Keela sighed.
Alannah glared at Keela. “Tell him to back off Bronagh then.”
What the fuck was going on?
Everyone was turning on one another.
“It would help if you all stopped talking about me like I’m a fucking invalid. I can hear what you’re all saying, and I can make my own damn decisions when it comes to my body.”
Branna moved to the opposite side of the bed and stared down at Kane. “Do you want to die?” she bluntly asked. “Because that’s what will happen if you don’t take the insulin daily.”
“Branna, fucking stop!” Ryder shouted.
It frightened me to hear Ryder raise his voice at her.
“No!” Branna bellowed right back at him. “I love him, damn it! I don’t want him to get sick again!”
I rubbed my hand over my face.
This was bad.
I looked at Kane as everyone argued amongst themselves.
“Kane?” I mumbled.
He looked at me, his face passive. “I know what you’re going to say.”
“What?” I asked.
“Kane, you need to take the insulin. You’ll get sick if you don’t,” he said, mimicking my voice perfectly.
I snorted. “Yep, that was pretty much it.”
Kane frowned. “I don’t do needles, Aideen. I just don’t.”
Why?
I wanted to ask why so badly. It seemed much more than a simple phobia of needles, but I didn’t want to push him.
Ryder moved past Branna and leaned down to Kane. “What can we do to get you to take the insulin shots?”
“I. Don’t. Do. Needles,” Kane repeated through gritted teeth.
Oh, forget this.
“You don’t,” I said, “but I do.”
The room went silent.
“Wh-What?” Kane stuttered, as he looked back to me.
I blew out a breath. “I’ll give you your injections every day. You let me do it once; will you let me do it every other time, too?”
Kane stared at me with unblinking eyes. I felt everyone else stare at me too.
“Why would you want to help me?” he asked, his face falling.
Good question.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I enjoy arguin’ with you, and I need to keep you around for that so I guess I’m doin’ this for me own selfish needs. Sue me.”
Kane grinned a little when his brothers chuckled and the tension in the room eased.
“Aideen, thank you, but I don’t—”
“Hey,” I cut him off and smiled when he looked at me. “Me and you?”
Kane licked his lips and whispered, “Me and you.”
Oh, my.
Me and you.
Now that got my heart rate going.
I
playfully winked. “We got this.”
Kane stared at me long and hard, and I saw him crack and give in to me before he realised it himself.
“What do you say?” I pressed.
Kane looked around the room, then to me and said, “I say okay, babydoll.”
It’s been eight days since Kane left the hospital, but only nine since he collapsed so that meant everyone was still taking things easy around him. Even me. I limited our arguments to one a day just so he didn’t wear himself out. He hasn’t been necessarily weak since he got home, but he tired easily, even with his insulin injections. His tiredness aside, we could all see the change in him thanks to his medication. It was slowly building him back up to his old self.
His health was improving everyday, but his attitude? Yeah, that worsened with each passing minute. He agreed the day he woke up in the hospital to let me give him the injections every day at home, but that was easier said than done. He was on two insulin injections a day, which the doctor said was his minimum. Kane consumed a lot of calories and was active even when he wasn’t feeling good so the two injections were needed for him. It might even jump to three a day when he was eventually well enough to work out again, but for now, it was two a day and getting the insulin into him had been hell. Absolute hell.
I worked in the local primary school full time. I taught second-class students and worked from eight thirty in the morning to three in the afternoon, except for Fridays when it was a half-day and I finished up at one in the afternoon. Kane’s timetable for his injections was one jab in the morning, and one jab in the afternoon, after he ate. I worked it around my work schedule, so the past week I had been arriving at Kane’s house at eight in the morning to give him his first injection, then I’d come over on my lunch break to give him his second.
It was difficult and I’d resorted to doing ridiculous things just to take his mind off the impending injections. The lowest level I stooped to was flashing my boobs at him just to fight off a panic attack I was convinced he was going to have. He worked himself up over the injections, and a couple of times he repeated for me not to ‘stab him’ and I had no idea why. I was extremely curious as to why he repeated those same words to me, but when I asked his brothers about it, they told me to ‘drop it’ so I did.
