symptoms and a potential prognosis of complete recovery for the patient.”
“That’s awesome!” Rory exclaims, sitting up in his seat with pride as he realizes his blood has already saved two lives.
“Yes… It is… Awesome,” Corba retorts in a condescending tone, raising her eyes to look at the wall behind Rory, “and we value your participation, Mr. Chambers.”
“That’s right,” Doctor Yahmir chimes in after Corba, “we value your participation.”
Rory glances down at the floor to his left for a moment, feeling suddenly cheap amongst these people who clearly only see him as their big, dumb Rhesus Monkey, ready to dispense blood at the snap of their fingers.
“What we’d like to do next is to start developing a vaccine that matches the effects your blood has on AIDS patients.” Corba states with a plastic smile, now looking into Rory’s eyes. “In order to do that, our team would need to draw twelve pints of blood from you over the next six months. This blood will be used for development of the vaccine and further testing into how effectively it can be used to treat the HIV Virus. Another strategy we will attempt is to infuse your blood into another Type O Negative donor to see if they can also naturally produce this protein. And we’ll attempt to artificially grow the protein in laboratory animals such as rats and monkeys. Is that agreeable with you, Mr. Chambers?”
“I would love to help out as long as it doesn’t conflict with my work schedule,” Rory says in a firm tone; “I do have a business to run.”
“Well, fortunately our hospital is open twenty-four hours a day,” Corba speaks with sincerity, “and our staff is happy to work around your schedule.”
“Also, all of the medical expenses and lab work will be covered one-hundred percent by the hospital.” Doctor Yahmir announces as if he just offered Rory a new car.
“Wow!” Rory reacts with uninhibited disgust. “You would do that for me?” He asks Doctor Yahmir sarcastically. “How lucky am I that you are going to pay for the supplies while you use me as a gerbil for six months? Maybe if I give you a handjob in the parking lot you’ll provide me an ice cream cone and some wet naps for my hands?”
Horace snickers quietly into his closed fist as he looks over at his now embarrassed colleague, but stops short as he notices Corba’s expression of revulsion.
“Mr. Chambers,” Corba begins, looking first at Rory, and then fixing her gaze on Doctor Yahmir, “I do apologize that my colleague feels your time is trivial or of no value. We’ll definitely pay you an hourly stipend for your time. How does thirty-five dollars an hour sound?”
Rory looks over at Doctor Yahmir who now appears small under the gaze of the business alpha. His brow furrows a bit and he stares down at the glass surface of the mahogany conference room table like a samurai who has just been told to fall on his own sword.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Rory agrees, not wanting to appear greedy in front of all these healers from the hospital that saved his Father’s life.
“We value your participation, Mr. Chambers,” Corba says in a flat tone, looking through him with her cold, dark brown eyes. “Please remember that you are bound by a non-disclosure agreement and that any announcements to the press or on social media about our findings will result in immediate and aggressive legal action.”
“I understand,” Rory agrees, “this is something I’d also like to keep quiet since AIDS is such a sensitive topic and I do have a girlfriend.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Corba concludes dryly, forcing a smile, “Oh, and two pints of blood a month is a very aggressive regimen for a donor; we will need you to maintain a diet high in certain vitamins and minerals which will be provided by our hospital dietician. We’ll also have our pharmacist monitor your Iron levels to ensure you are healthy. I have another document that you need to sign allowing us to publish our findings in medical journals and press releases. This document will also stipulate our agreement to draw two pints of blood per month.”
“I’m okay with that as long as you only use my last name on the press releases,” Rory counters swiftly, “and I’d also like to get a written agreement for our hourly stipend, and something stating that the hospital guarantees my safety while all this blood work is being done.”
“Consider it done!“ Corba beams with a fake smile as she rises from her chair and extends her hand out to Rory.
Rory immediately stands up from his chair and shakes her hand with a happy grin.
“Thanks again, Mr. Chambers, it was our pleasure.” Corba says as she releases his hand. Then she turns to Cecily on her immediate right. “Please make sure Mr. Chambers has everything that we agreed upon before he leaves the hospital today. Also, I want to schedule a phlebotomist to draw another pint of blood within thirty days.”
After giving these instructions, Corba nods to Rory, turns on her heel, and steps briskly away from the meeting. Doctor Yahmir still looks like a dishonored samurai and briefly shakes Rory’s hand before disappearing out the door as well. Finally, the rest of the staff all get up from their chairs to give Rory obligatory handshakes before going about their day again.
For the next two weeks, Rory goes through the same basic routine with the hospital. Every morning at 7:00 a.m. he visits the lab to meet with the dietician and pharmacist to verify that he has a healthy blood count and that his diet and vitamin intake are regularly adjusted to promote optimal production of new blood cells in his body. They explain to him that donating two pints of blood per month will leave him chronically anemic and his health will need to be constantly monitored.
After his early morning checkup, he undergoes other tests to determine the makeup and production of his blood and immune system. These tests include bone marrow samples, lymph samples, liver cell cultures, kidney cell cultures, and many other painful procedures that involve scraping cells or an uncomfortable syringe. Each day there is a different medley of painful tests or lengthy questions. Rory soon realizes that thirty-five dollars an hour is nothing to the hospital and between his regular testing and running a business, his days are now twelve to fourteen hours long.
Two full weeks after that first Friday meeting in the conference room, Kelly is standing over her boyfriend in their bedroom watching him sleep with a look of concern. She peers down at the dark circles under Rory’s eyes from the exhaustive hours he has put in at the hospital. His skin has become pale and he has lost his desire to make love more than once a week. Kelly slowly strokes his short, dark hair feeling a bit selfish, but wanting her boyfriend back. As she is stroking his hair Rory slowly opens his eyes, smiling weakly at his beautiful girlfriend.
He stretches slowly, opening his eyes to see the familiar cedar footboard of his king size bed. Rory stares up at the black ceiling fan as it chops through the air in a stead rhythm, and he finally sits up in bed, looking at the large dresser, and then back at Kelly.
“Good morning,” Rory says with a dry throat. “Oh shit! Have I missed the hospital?” He sits up suddenly in bed realizing that he has slept past his normal 6 a.m. start time.
“No, you’re not going to the hospital today,” Kelly tells him with a stern voice, “you are going to stay home from the hospital, and from work, and they are just going to accept that you will be living your life like a normal person.”
“I know it’s been rough, baby, but they setup some cellular mitosis tests for me today-“
�
�No!” Kelly interrupts with passion, “you are not doing any testing today and those bloodsuckers can fuck off for the entire weekend.”
Kelly stands up straight in her dark green, silk pajamas, folding her arms across her chest defiantly. Her normally sleek black hair is pulled up neatly into a braid and she is somewhere in the middle of the waking up, and; the taking a shower phase of her morning routine.
“You’re going to get a shower, and we are going to have a nice, romantic breakfast like couples do when they are in love. And if the doctors call here or try to interrupt us,” Kelly raises her fists like a pro boxer, “I’ll Evander Holyfield their asses to the curb.”
“Sounds good, babe,” Rory says with a weak but loving smile, “I couldn’t agree with you more. I want to save people’s lives, but I also need to live my life.”
Kelly puts a soft hand on Rory’s right cheek feeling glad that he agrees with her about his health, and the health of their relationship.
“Now get your ass out of bed and grab a hot shower,” Kelly commands him, slapping him softly on his cheek, “then we’ll have a nice, quiet couple’s breakfast.”
After a few moments, Rory steps out of bed wearing only his boxer shorts as he walks into the bathroom for a hot shower.
Down on the first floor of the lavish California home, Kelly is working in the kitchen like a soldier to prepare a good meal for them. The travertine countertop is covered with breakfast foods: an open carton of eggs, a loaf of bread, a package of turkey bacon, and various jams and jellies. She has six fresh strips of turkey bacon sizzling
The Golden Goose of Los Angeles Extended Edition Page 7
