Chapter 13

"Say 'AH, '" Dr. Lathan said, peering down Timmy's throat with a small flashlight and using a tongue depressor.

"Ahhhhh," breathed Timmy obediently. Dr. Lathan turned this way and that, looking intently from several angles.

"Um," Dr. Lathan said. "Uh huh." He pulled back. "Now let me look at your ears." Using a lightscope with a cone shaped tip, he examined Timmy's ears. More unintelligible but thoughtful noises came from the doctor.

"Now, Timmy, I am going to use this machine to make tones. Whenever you hear one, put your hand up," Dr. Lathan asked Timmy. Timmy only heard about half of the notes, and Dr. Lathan again "Hmmm'd."

Timmy was sitting on the examination table without a shirt. Dr. Lathan put one hand on Timmy's chest, and thumped the hand with his other. He repeated this several times on Timmy's front and back.

"Ok, young man. Put your shirt back on, and come to my office next door. We'll talk about what should happen," he instructed Timmy.

"Well, Timmy," Dr. Lathan began a few moments later when Timmy sat before him, "Your tonsils have just about lost the battle. They've gotten fully infected, and they are transferring the infection to your lungs. If you don't get them out right away, you will not get better.

"Furthermore, the inside of your ears have also become full of trapped infection. We will have to pierce your ear drums to let it out. It won't affect your hearing, and given some time, they will heal completely. Dr. Hailey gave you some antibiotics, did he not?"

"Yes, sir," Timmy confirmed.

"Good. Keep taking them. In the meantime, I am going to schedule you for surgery." Dr. Lathan keyed his intercom. "Bernice?"

"Yes, Doctor," came the semi-garbled response.

"Would you call the hospital, please, and see what their operating room schedule is like? Timmy here will be having his tonsils out and some minor ear work," Dr. Lathan said into the machine.

"Yes, Doctor," confirmed the woman.

Dr. Lathan released the intercom button, and leaned back, interlacing his fingers behind his head. "Timmy, I must say, I'm surprised at your condition. Usually when a young person like yourself comes to see me, I find a healthy person with lots of recuperative powers. You, on the other hand, are very run down. You look like you've been living a hard life. How are things on the home front?"

"Well, I just got my own apartment, so my life is getting better," Timmy informed the doctor.

"You don't live with your parents?" Dr. Lathan asked, startled.

"No, sir, we don't get along too good," responded Timmy.

"Ah," said Dr. Lathan, thoughtfully. "Are you involved in drugs and alcohol, Timmy?"

"No," Timmy lied, feeling his stomach clench. His tongue momentarily lay thick and dumb in his mouth.

"Hmmm," said the keenly observant doctor. "Well..."

The intercome buzzed. Dr. Lathan pushed the button, "Yes, Bernice?"

Bernice gave him a operating time one week away.

"Is that the best they could give us, Bernice?" Dr. Lathan demanded, vexed.

"Yes, doctor, they've gotten terribly backed up over there," she explained.

"Well, ok, if that's all there is, we better take it. Please call them back and confirm," he instructed her. He turned back to Timmy.

"Well, there's nothing for it, we'll have to wait a week. The bad news is that the infection will have longer to affect your body. The good news, and I do mean it is good news, Timmy, is that you'll have a week to live on your best behavior to prepare your body for recovery. That means NO drugs and NO alcohol. You must get plenty of sleep and not take chances like going out in bad weather and getting chilled. Eat lots of good, nourishing food, and drink plenty of fluids. Do you understand me, Timmy?"

"Yes, sir," Timmy mumbled, looking downward and sliding a bit down in his chair.

"I mean it, Timmy. Cleaning yourself up is the only way you're going to get good and healthy. Now, who will be paying for the surgery? Are your parents still paying for your care?" Dr. Lathan asked.

"My social worker, Jennifer Jones, over at DSW, said she would make sure this was paid for. Usually, I can take care of myself, I've got a job," said Timmy, proudly.

"That's good, that's very good," Dr. Lathan. "If you're working, I should tell you that you'll be out of work for at least three days. Will that be a problem?"

Timmy groaned inwardly. Denise would be pissed at him for taking time off. Maybe she'd even fire him, and that would be a disaster. Even if she didn't, he would lose the income, and living so close to the edge meant the slightest drop in pay really put a dent in his budget. On the other hand, he also realized that he would lose everything if he didn't have the surgery.

"I guess I'll have to make it work," Timmy told Dr. Lathan.

Dr. Lathan was pleased. "Excellent. Ok, Timmy, you have to do a fair amount of preparation. Stop by Bernice's desk on your way out, and she'll give you the information."

Timmy thanked the doctor and left.

A cool rain had started while Timmy was at Dr. Lathan's office. He got wet walking up to the spot on the road where he could hitchhike. Drivers didn't usually like to stop in the rain, probably because they didn't want the inside of their cars to get wet from dripping hitchhikers. After a long wait during which he began shivering with the cold, he finally got a ride with a sympathetic person. Of course, they were only going to the next town, but he managed to warm up and partially dry out on the way. Thankfully, the rain had died down to a drizzle by the next hitch, and he got a second ride much more quickly.

Will was in the kitchen making his dinner when Timmy got home. Timmy's cheerful hello was met with a glower. "Uh oh," thought Timmy, sniffling.

"Er, Timmy, there's some things I want to talk about with you," started Will.

"Yeah?" responded Timmy distrustfully.

"Let me finish my dinner, and then let's talk," suggested Will in a manner that was not a suggestion at all.

"Ok," sighed Timmy. He wasn't sure what Will wanted, but it didn't sound good.

Timmy warmed up a cup of ramen noodles while Will was eating, but he found he was too tense to eat them. Finally, he pushed them aside and waited for Will to finish up.

Will jumped right in. "Where were you last night?"

Timmy was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"I want to know why you didn't come home last night," demanded Will.

"If you must know, I spent the night with your friend, MotorHead," Timmy said reluctantly. "I don't know why I have to tell you where I was."

"Motor!" Will rolled his eyes. "If you were with Motor, then I have no doubt as to what you were doing."

"Why are you friends with him if you don't like what he does?" Timmy replied tartly.

"Motor and I play guitar together, but I don't like the rest of his lifestyle. He's not a good person to hang out with," Will explained. "Motor is not a Godly person."

"Well, sheesh, I dunno," equivocated Timmy. He was pretty irritated by Will's brand of Christianity.

"And as for you telling me where you were, we're roommates now, and you can't just disappear. We have a responsibility to each other to at least let the other know when we're going to be away," Will stated. "All you had to do was call me."

"You're not my father," grumbled Timmy.

"Look," said Will. "It's important to me to surround myself with righteous people as much as I can. It helps me to remain pure and resist temptation myself."

Fuck, thought Timmy to himself.

"I'm very concerned here," Will went on. "Not only did you spend an evening doing I dunno what, but can guess, with Motor, but you stole money from me, used my book and coat hangers, and now the TV doesn't work. Did you do anything to the TV?"

"Uh, uh," started Timmy, ignominiously. "I just turned it on for a minute, and then back off. Nothing was on I wanted to watch. It was working just fine."