I wince. They
did explain it to me, but the terms they used were so complicated it went right over my head. The only thing I really remembered was how many to take and how many times a day to take them.
Of course, my mood at the time probably didn't help at all.
“Not...exactly.”
“Alright then,” Nurse starts, picking up the clipboard and scrutinizing it. “You're on four main types of medications right now. The first is an antiarrhythmic. Those tend to slow down the heartbeat by impeding the electrical impulses in certain types of heart tissues. It keeps those areas of the heart from beating too fast so your heart actually pumps instead of just vibrating in your chest. With me so far?”
“That makes sense,” I say, nodding.
“Alright. Those medications help to keep your heart working steadily. The other three are to make the work easier. You're on a calcium blocker, which stops calcium from getting into the cells of your heart and blood vessels. This relaxes those vessels so they're wider and allow blood to flow more easily. You're also on a beta blocker, which blocks adrenaline and keeps you calmer so you won't get stressed as easily and have another attack. Those two things work together to lower your blood pressure and keep your heart from working too hard.”
Nurse looks over the top of the clipboard at me to make sure I'm following this. I nod again. I think I've heard this explanation before, but it wasn't put to me as simply as that. Even as I start to understand it better, I'm still not sure where a sleeping pill ends up throwing a wrench into it.
“The last medication you're on is a blood thinner that makes it harder for your blood to clot. I don't think you really need it, but then again, I'm not your doctor,” he says with a smirk.
“Why do you think they have me on it then?” I ask, puzzled.
He furrows his brows and settles into a thinking pose. “Arrhythmia is a tricky thing. Once the immediate problem is identified, everyone with it responds to treatments differently. Anti-arrhythmic medications can be pretty temperamental. In some cases the wrong one can make it worse. So the idea with medical treatments is to basically throw everything at the wall and see what sticks. Modern medicine is great, isn't it? The blood thinner's a great example. It's standard procedure to give to patients with circulatory related issues to keep the whole system working as little as possible while they figure out what the real problem is. You had your attack, what...four months ago?” he asks, rustling papers as he searches for his answer.
“Four and a half,” I correct him.
“According to this, the doctors are amazed you went so long without having any problems, right?”
“Lucky me,” I say bitterly. I'm not enjoying this line of conversation. It's quickly draining the good vibes the last week has been building up in me.
“I see,” Nurse muses, frowning again. “Well, right now you're in a kind of balance with your medication. What you're on right now seems to be working, but that doesn't mean the medication you're on could be the best combination for you. So your doctors want to take it slowly as you adjust back to normal life, and only make small changes to see how you react.”
“Great,” I say with absolutely no enthusiasm. “So,
that's why you're taking such a vested interest in my well being?”
All sense of humor drops from his face, as if a switch has been flipped. He looks at me sternly. “I care about the health of all the students in this school. If the students here can get better, I do everything I can to help them with that. I care about
your health too, Hisao. That way, at least
one person does.” The expression cracks a bit as his smile starts to show. “But yes, I do have to check in with the puppetmasters from time to time.”
“I'm sorry,” I say, feeling embarrassed. “I didn't mean-”
He stops me with a wave of his hand. “It's alright. Don't worry about it,” he says, completely back to normal, or whatever passes as normal for him. “Anyway, as I was saying. The blood thinner is probably unnecessary, but it's not up to me to make that call. But one thing your doctors and I are in agreement on is that you should be getting some light exercise.”
I groan, remembering my run with Emi and the small episode it triggered. “I tried that, remember? It didn't go so well.”
“The problem is, with all the medications you're on, they take a huge load off your heart but at the same time do nothing to actually strengthen or improve it. In fact, the cocktail of pills you swallow every day might end up being harmful in the long run because your heart might get too weak, not to mention the other side effects that might happen as you get older. Maybe jogging is a bit too much for you right now. Anyone who just spent four months in a hospital would probably have a hard time with it, regardless of if they had a heart problem or not,” Nurse finishes.
“And trying to keep up with Emi didn't help either,” I grumble.
This draws a laugh out of him. “No. I'm not allowed to show favoritism, but if I was, she's probably the fastest thing in this school. Don't even try to keep up with her, nobody else can.” The easy laughter brightens my mood somewhat. Nurse's attitude is definitely infectious.
“What else would you recommend?” I ask. “If I can't go running, I'm not sure what else I can do.”
Nurse looks thoughtful for a second. “You could try swimming. Doing laps can be a great workout without putting much strain on the body. We use swimming here for all types of therapies just for that reason.”
“I could try that,” I say hesitantly. “I'm...not much of a swimmer though, and...well...” I let my voice trail off as concern about my scarred chest permeates my thoughts. Nurse furrows his brow for a second, casts a quick glance to my chest, then seems to understand my uneasiness.
“Ah, the scar? Don't worry about it. You can wear a shirt if you want, as long as it's not a suit jacket or something. You could also go early in the morning, since you seem to wake up so early. There's only a few students who use the pool before classes start. It might help with your sleep problems, too.”
The ease with which he seem to dismiss my concern as no big deal doesn't shame me as much as it would have a week ago. Instead, I'm starting to learn I shouldn't really chastise myself for these thoughts as much as I have been. While I'm making an effort to not have them as often, I realize that no amount of self reflection is going to take the place of time and experience. Talking with everyone this last week has shown me that.
And then another thought pops into my head.
“I don't own any swim trunks,” I mention.
“Okay, now
that one you should worry about. I can't recommend you go wearing only a shirt to the pool,” Nurse says with a mischievous smirk. “If you want, you can use your track shorts until you can get an actual pair. It's not like you're using them for track, right?”
No, I wouldn't be, would I? Not for lack of trying, though...
“The town has a few smaller stores but I don't think there's anywhere you could get a set of trunks,” Nurse continues. “The city should have what you're looking for though.”
My ears perk up. “That would work really well,” I say. “I'm actually supposed to go into the city later this week with some friends.”
Friends? The use of the word makes me pause. Would I actually call Chisato and Saki friends after only one week? After the festival, our morning walks, the fireworks, I realize I don't know as much about the two of them as I would like to.
And yeah. I would consider calling them friends at this point.
Nurse senses my mood and meets it with a look of amusement. “Good!” he exclaims enthusiastically. “That's another thing I was worried about. It's good to see you're being social.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh come on, did my doctors ask you to put
that in my report too?”
He laughs. “No,
that interest is purely selfish and personal.” He turns his back to me as he unclips the papers and goes to put them back in my file. “There's a lot more to being healthy than just keeping your body in shape, you know.”
I watch as he opens a cabinet above his desk, searching for something. He traces a few boxes and bottles with his fingers, finally pulling down a small container. “In all seriousness though, the powers-that-be are going to expect to see that you're getting exercise my report.”
“Uh huh...” I say, hesitantly. I don't know exactly where he's going with this.
Nurse palms something from the box and puts it back in its place on the shelf before turning around to face me. He sits down in his chair again, crossing one leg over the other.
“Here comes the part I know you're not going to like, so I'll put this as plainly as I can, Hisao. Your doctors and I want you to get into some sort of workout routine. I know I sound like a broken record with this, but if you can't come up with something on your own, we may have to set you up with one of the physical therapy programs here at the school.”
My jaw drops in shock. Before I can answer he continues.
“I said when you first came here that I didn't think you needed it, and I still don't. I understand that running with Emi didn't work out, at least not yet. So, I'll make you a deal.” He holds up his hand, revealing a blisterpack with two small pills barely larger than grains of rice. “This is a very low dosage of sleep aid medication. If you promise me you'll go to the pool sometime tomorrow, I can let you try this out tonight, and we can see if it helps with your insomnia. A dose this low shouldn't interfere with your other medications, and you can come to me tomorrow after class and let me know how the medicine and the swimming both worked out. Deal?”
Oh god, anything to keep me out of therapy. I had enough of that while I was in the hospital. Long hours in bed moving my arms, or in what passed as the hospital's “gym.” I considered it a personal victory when I didn't have to do that anymore.
“Alright,” I say, holding out my hand for the pills. “I'll swing by the pool tomorrow morning.” Nurse places the small packet in my palm. “That is, if I can wake up after taking these.”
“That's what your alarm clock is for,” he counters with a wink. “No excuses.”
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