Flare

When I crack open my eyes, I’m swamped with a horrible sense of foreboding. *Uh oh. I’ve been here before.* I once had to read Christopher Marlowe’s Edward II at school where he gets a red-hot poker shoved up his bum. That is the only way I can adequately describe the pain that is currently shooting through my abdomen. Feeling grateful that Sophie has her own en-suite, I heave myself out of bed and into the bathroom where I make it to the toilet just in time.

Attempting to breathe through the waves of pain while simultaneously emptying my bowels is not something I can ever hope to accurately describe. It’s just a jumble of the worst things you could ever experience. When I finally think that it might be safe to leave the toilet and go back to bed, the cramps begin and once again I’m trapped in this horrendous circle of hell.

I can’t tell how long I’m stuck in the bathroom, it may be minutes or hours, but by the time I can wash my hands and crawl back into bed, my breathing is laboured and my body is completely spent. I realise that I urgently need my meds,–my usual supply is currently sitting in the suitcase that I took to the wedding so who knows where that is now, –so my only recourse is to contact Finn. Who is currently very mad at me. Fuck!

My hands shake violently as I type out a message asking if he could bring over my spare tablets. I know I should ring but I’m struggling to hold myself together and there’s no guarantee that I won’t burst into tears the moment he picks up. *My key for Soph’s is in the drawer of my bedside table* I add, hoping that will clue Finn in on my current physical state. When I can see the messages have been read, I let out a small sigh of relief knowing that help is on its way. I just need to hang on until he gets here.

I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know cool hands are brushing my hair back off my face. “Kat, come on, Kat. Time to wake up.”

Cracking an eye open, I have a brief moment of panic thinking that it’s Jackson but relief courses through me when I realise that is actually Finn hovering over me, dark circles under his eyes. “Hey,” I croak out, my throat parched.

“You look like shit,” Finn retorts, kneeling down next to the side of the bed. I can barely muster a grimace in response even as I struggle into a seated position. “Here you go.” He hands me a couple of my tablets,–giant things that are terrible to try and swallow at the best of times, – along with a tall glass of water. Empathy shines out of Finn’s eyes as he watches me take several large gulps of the icy water as I try to wash the pills down my throat. Jeez, I hate taking these nasty boulders!

“What time is it?” My head is fuzzy like it’s stuffed with cotton wool.

“Just past 1 p.m. Sorry, it took so long. You only had a couple of tablets left so I went and got your emergency prescription filled,” Finn explains, holding up a brand-new box.

“Thanks so much, Finn,” I rasp out. “You are a lifesaver.” And he is. Finn is my rock, my constant, the keeper of all my secrets. I know I have let him down, yet he’s still here picking up the pieces. I honestly have no idea what my life would be like without him.

“I’m…I…I am so sorry for hiding away.” Sobs interrupt my words, tears sliding down my face despite my efforts to wipe them away. “I meant to call you last night but I was so tired and I thought you would be so mad at me…”

“I am mad at you, Kat. But right now, none of that matters. How bad is it?” Finn’s tone of voice has become clinical and I know what information he wants. We’ve been through this circus together before.

“Bad. Pain about an eight or nine. Mucus in the loo but no blood,” I reply sounding oddly detached with my medical-speak.

“Okay, that’s good. You’ve had your meds, now you just need to rest and let’s hope this is just a minor flare-up.” Nodding, I realise that there is nothing for me to add. Other than the fact that I want to be home, in my own bed.

Finn knows me well. A moment later, he’s gathering up anything that he can identify as mine before digging out his phone and calling for a taxi. “I can walk you know,” I mutter.

“Do you really want to risk it?” Finn asks, his tone knowing and a little smug.

“You’re right,” I concede. “I just…just…I just fucking hate that when this happens, I can’t be normal. I can’t even walk ten minutes home without worrying I’m going to have an accident.”

“I know, Kat. And I don’t blame you. I’d feel exactly the same if I was in your shoes.”

Finn helps me to get up out of bed, my limbs shaky from the combination of pain and lack of use. I contemplate attempting to change into something less pyjama-like but then I decide sod it, I don’t care if anyone sees me in a pair of Soph’s sweatpants and over-size hoodie.

I’m about to insist that we take some time to clear up my mess and tidy up Soph’s room when Finn tells me that our taxi is downstairs. He promises me that he’ll return and sort it out once I’m settled at home so I let out a small sigh of defeat and follow Finn through the apartment clutching the heels and dress I wore to the wedding. A wave of melancholy washes over me as I think about how I behaved but then I remind myself that I need to concentrate on getting through the next couple of days of this flare before I try to start dealing with my latest mess.

“That reminds me,” I say to Finn as we pull the front door closed. “When my head is not quite so fuzzy, ask me about Hunter and Cole…and Evie.” I crack a weak grin as Finn’s eyebrows seem to leap off his face.