Tim was set on carrying everything up to Ethan’s apartment, allowing Ethan to carry his work bag only after Ethan was adamant. Ethan unlocked his apartment and led Tim to the kitchen, starting to help him put things away.
“Go change.” Tim ordered. “Then lay down.”
“You don’t know where everything goes,” Ethan countered.
“I’ll figure it out.” Tim poked a hole in that argument.
“HahShoo!” Ethan conceded, heading for his bedroom. He emerged a several minutes later in gray sweats and a faded college sweatshirt.
“I thought I said to lay down.” Tim reminded him as he came into the kitchen.
“You did. I wanted some juice.”
Tim smiled. “Food?” He asked. “Did you get lunch?”
“I had hospital food in the ER. They ordered a tray.”
“So, more or less?”
“Yeah.” Ethan finished, pouring himself a glass of orange juice, drinking it, then grabbing his water bottle.
“Ready to lay down?”
“On the couch.”
“You should be in bed.”
“More comfortable for you.”
“I’ll be in your kitchen, cooking.”
“So then I can see what you’re up to. Tell you where things are. I’m closer if I need something…”. He trailed off, coughing.
Tim wordlessly found a coffee cup after 3 cupboards, filled it with water and placed it in the microwave. He placed a teabag in when the microwave dinged. “Lemon?”
“I got it.” Ethan took the cup from him and fixing it to his liking; Tim watching on so he could see how to make it in the future. “I can do things for myself.” He reminded Tim. “I just need someone with me.” He brought his sweatshirt clad elbow to cover his face. “Hatshoo! Ugh. Believe it or not, since it migrated to my lungs, I’m actually sneezing less now.” He commented, grabbing a takeout napkin and giving his nose a fierce blow.
“Bless you.” Tim gave Ethan a sympathetic look. “At least, go sit on the couch. I doubt your day has been very restful.” He told him gently.
Ethan couldn’t hide the yawn as he crossed over to the table and sat down. At Tim’s exasperated glance, he explained. “I don’t like open containers of hot liquids on the couch when I’m coughing and sneezing. I like the table.”
Tim nodded, understanding. He’d spilled his soup or tea coughing and sneezing, not being able to reach the coffee table in time. “Can I at least get you a blanket?”
Ethan shook his head. “I’m a little warm, actually.” He took a sip of tea. “Tell me what you need to make everything.” Tim listed off the items needed and Ethan directed him to the appropriate drawers and cupboards.
Tim began making soup, casting worried glances at Ethan from time to time. He just wished the other man would go and lay on the couch and get some sleep. “How are you feeling?”
Ethan coughed and blew his nose. “Lousy.” He sighed. A pause. “I need to start the meds.” He pointed out, starting to stand up.
“I got it.” Tim grabbed the pharmacy bag off the counter and set it on the table, turning back to his cooking to give Ethan privacy while he took the pills and used the inhalers. “Can I ask what happened with your blood sugar?” He said, tentatively.
There was a long pause, followed by a sigh. “I’m never hungry when I’m sick. I hadn’t been eating much, and it caught up to me. I had some other lows, not that low…but…they should have been a warning. I know I need to make myself eat…I just don’t like to.”
Tim was silent for a moment. He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by a harsh, raspy sneeze from Ethan.
“Hatchoo!” Ethan looked around for tissues.
“Bless you.” Tim handed him the roll of paper towels; he’d placed the tissues they’d bought in the bathroom; and waited while Ethan noisily blew his nose. He sat down at the table across from Ethan. “So, this happens a lot?”
Ethan cleared his throat. “Not usually this low. Just low enough where I don’t need insulin and need some carbs. But, despite what Dustin says, I don’t typically get this sick either.”
“Tell me what you can eat, how you normally eat…” Tim prompted.
Ethan filled Tim in on his diet, what he could have, how he typically ate, what he liked, punctuating it. with a sneeze.
“Sure, you’re sneezing less.” Tim teased. “And what can you always eat?”
Ethan finished blowing his nose, setting the crumpled paper towel in front of him. “You forget, I sneeze all the time to begin with.” His gaze fell on the peanut butter jar on the counter. “Peanut butter.” He said softly. “I’ve been living on peanut butter toast and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches since I got sick.” He sniffled, pressing the paper towel to his nose and wiping at it.
“Are you done with your tea?” At Ethan’s nod, Tim suggested they move to the couch. “My iPad is in my backpack. Let’s look for some recipes that you can have that are made with peanut butter.” He went to wrap the throw blanket around Ethan, who again reminded him that he was warm. “I’ll make them for you tomorrow.” He sat next to Ethan and began browsing and bookmarking whatever Ethan pointed out as looking good. After about half an hour, they had breakfast and snack recipes; Tim was noticing how warm Ethan was and commented as such. “I think we need your temperature again. Where’s your thermometer?”
“Bathroom. Medicine cabinet or counter. I don’t remember if I put it away this morning.”
“You had a fever this morning, and you still went to work?” Tim asked, incredulous.
“No. I didn’t have a fever this morning, so I went to work.” Ethan tried to snap, but his weak, raspy voice didn’t cooperate, and he ended up having a brief coughing fit from the force of it.
Tim grabbed the thermometer from the bathroom (it was on the counter), along with the cough drops for Ethan. He handed Ethan the bag of cough drops once he got back to the living room and listened while Ethan instructed him on how to use his thermometer, a much fancier model than his own ancient oral one. He scanned the thermometer in front of Ethan’s forehead. “101. Can you have more Tylenol?”
“I think it’s too soon.” Ethan informed him. “I could have some ibuprofen though.”
“Medicine cabinet?” Tim asked. Ethan nodded, and Tim dashed off to fetch it. “I’m going to check the soup,” he said, handing the bottle to Ethan. “Do you need anything from the kitchen?
Ethan finished taking the ibuprofen and handed Tim his water bottle. “More water, please. And I know they’re not in the kitchen, but more tissues are gonna be needed soon.” He leaned against the back of the couch, coughing.
“No problem. Cough syrup? Cold medicine? Juice? Snack?” He looked at his watch. “We’ll eat in about two hours.”
Ethan cleared his throat. “Cough syrup. The prescription one from today. Cold medicine never helps with the sneezing, so pass. I probably should have a snack, even though the glucagon injection has me higher than usual. There’s sliced cheese in the fridge. Can you grab a piece of that with four crackers, please?”
“Sure thing.” Tim went into the kitchen, stirred and tasted the soup, filled Ethan’s water bottle and grabbed his snack, handing them to Ethan on his way to grab the tissues and cough syrup from the bathroom.
“Hahchoo.”
“Bless you.” He returned to another hoarse sneeze from Ethan followed by several strong coughs. He poured the cough syrup into the cup the pharmacy had provided while Ethan blew his nose.
“This is gonna make me fall asleep…the codeine, I mean.” Ethan said, hesitating.
“Good.” Tim told him. “You look like you haven’t had much sleep for awhile.”
Ethan shook his head. “Cough.”
“Take it. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Ethan blew his nose again, took the cough syrup, then curled up in a ball at the end of the couch. He talked to Tim for a short while, but eventually his words became interrupted more and more frequently by yawns, and Tim told him to go to sleep.
He was woken a few hours later by Tim gently shaking him. “It’s a little after 6. I’ve got supper ready.”
Ethan yawned, sitting up. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his neck and shoulders. “Ok.” He said softly. “I’ll be right there.” He headed into the bedroom for blood sugar check and insulin, then joined Tim in the kitchen.
Tim had a bowl of soup waiting at the table, along with a glass of orange juice and a glass of water. “Crackers?” Tim offered as Ethan sat down.
Ethan shook his head. “Looks good.” He coughed roughly into a worn sleeve. He started eating, chatting with Tim while he did so. “It’s a little spicy for chicken noodle soup.” He commented after a bit, reaching for a tissue from the box he carried with him, blowing his nose.
“My mom’s recipe. She always made it for me. Said spicy cleared your head out. Is it too spicy? I don’t exactly measure the spices, and I like spicy.”
“It’s good…just surprising.” Ethan responded. “I’m used to chicken soup being…you know…chicken soup.” He sniffled, muffling a series of coughs into his oversized sweatshirt.
“I can make you some regular soup if you want.”
Ethan shook his head. “This is fine. I just don’t usually eat spicy food, so its different. A good different.” He insisted. “So you were telling me about your neighbor’s kid and their dog…” He rubbed his nose again.
They resumed conversation and eating, Ethan occasionally stopping to blow his nose.
“The spice really builds up.” Ethan commented.
Tim nodded. “It’s getting you good.”
“Always dohes.” His voice hitched on the second syllable, and he barely had time to turn away from the table before he doubled over with a loud, uncovered “Hatchoo!”
“Bless you.” Tim told him as he straightened up and turned back to the table.
He grabbed a handful of tissues and taking care of his nose. “Thanks.” He mumbled, flushing red.
“That one snuck up on you.”
“Always kinda does.” Tim looked confused, and Ethan continued to explain. “Spicy food makes me sneeze. The first sneeze is always sudden. I know it’s coming, but it always catches me off guard.”
Tim laughed. “So, we won’t be sharing curry.”
Ethan shook his head, giving his nose a hard scrub. “Nope.”
Tim noticed how congested he sounded and slid the tissues closer. “And I’d guess you’re done eating, too?” He asked.
Ethan didn’t answer, just buried another powerful “Ahshoo!” in his sleeve, rubbing his sleeve across his nose.
Tim again pushed the tissues to him. “Bless you.”
“Might want to wait on that. I’m gonna sneeze for a little bit.” He mumbled stuffily, with a couple deep sniffles.
Tim nodded. “Done with your bowl?” He asked, reaching for it?
“I can take care of it,”. Ethan snapped, grabbing his bowl and heading for the sink. He dumped the contents down the garage disposal and rinsed the bowl, sitting back down.
“You ok?” Tim asked.
“I’m fine.” Ethan insisted through his clogged nose. “Aside from the ear infection, the pneumonia, and the sneezing fit.”
He’d pushed the tissues away when he’d angrily grabbed his bowl, and Tim reached over and snagged them. “Blow your nose.” He told Ethan. “I can barely understand you.”
“HahhShoo!” Ethan pulled his shirt collar up over his nose for another sneeze. “I’m ok.” He snapped, rubbing his sleeve roughly across his nose.
“You look like you can’t even breathe through your nose.” Tim pointed out.
Ethan responded with a deep sniffle. “I’m fine.” He said in a low harsh tone. “Leave me the fuck alone.” He got up and stalked into his bedroom, shutting the door firmly.
Tim sat there for a moment, stunned. This was similar to what had happened a few days back, but more intense. He heard a loud, explosive sneeze from the bedroom and sighed. Maybe Ethan would be more willing to talk when he calmed down. Maybe this Dustin who seemed to know Ethan well would know something when he came to drop off Ethan’s car and possibly spend the night. He got up and washed the supper dishes and cleaned up what little mess there was in the kitchen.
He sat on the couch and watched TV, listening to Ethan sneeze from the bedroom for the next 10 minutes. Half an hour later, he heard Ethan’s cell phone ring, and looked over to see it sitting on the end table. He picked it up and headed to Ethan’s room, knocking on the door. “Ethan! Phone!” He called.
Ethan took the phone from Tim, answered it, and went back in the bedroom, closing the door. He emerged 20 minutes later, looking awkward.
“That was Dustin. He’ll be here in about an hour with my car.” He hesitantly sat down on the couch. “Um, he’s gonna spend the night; I hope you don’t mind.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” Tim agreed. “Do you want me to come back tomorrow?”
Ethan nodded. “If you still want to.”
“I don’t know what happened at dinner; we can talk about it later.” Tim sighed. “But I’d like to come tomorrow.”
Ethan let out a deep breath he’d been holding. “I’d like that.”
“Everything ok?”
Ethan nodded, wrapping his arm over his face. “HahAhschoo!” He felt the moisture soak his sleeve and kept his arm in place. “Can you hand me some tissues please?” He asked, voice muffled by his sleeve.
“Hold on. They’re still in the kitchen.” Tim stood up, and Ethan nodded. Tim returned a few seconds later, pressing a couple tissues into Ethan’s hand.
“Thanks.” Ethan whispered, pulling his sleeve away and covering his nose with the tissues. Tim saw the spot on his sleeve where the sneeze had saturated it and knew Ethan’s nose must just be running. A liquid blow from Ethan confirmed that suspicion.
“Bless you.” He said when Ethan straightened back up, squeezing his shoulder.
Ethan nodded, reaching for the bottle of hand sanitizer on the table. “Thanks. Sorry; I know that was on the gross side.”
“Happens.” Tim smiled. “You need anything?”
Ethan hesitated; he didn’t really want to just leave Tim sitting alone on the couch again, especially after what happened at dinner. “I don’t know if it’s from the cough syrup or everything that happened today, but I’m really tired. I’d like to go back to sleep.” Tim nodded. Ethan hesitated. “In my bed. It’s just, it’s more comfortable…I can stretch out…”
“Then you should.” Tim told him. “Go. I’m fine right here. You need the rest.” Ethan returned to his room, and Tim watched TV while he waited for Dustin.
Aggedy Ann 