"I don't give a damn if we sit there for twenty hours,” he says, pacing a tight circle before turning back to face me, his hands on his hips. "I am not sitting up here watching my sister pass out on the floor.”
"If you take me to the ER, I’ll be exhausted, exposed to every germ in the city, and miserable," I say calmly. "I have my final oncology panels scheduled in six days, but I can call my doctor right now and get a slot for tomorrow morning. If I do that, I won't have to sit in a public waiting room."
He stands glaring down at me, his jaw clenching so hard I can hear his teeth grinding. He hates hospitals, he hates waiting, but most of all, he hates feeling helpless.
"Tomorrow morning," he grunts, his voice tight. "Not two days from now. Tomorrow."
“Tomorrow."
"Call them," he dema
