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From: cyan@anon.nymserver.com
Subject: {ASSM} New TG: The Lab - Ch. Two 1/2
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"The Lab" by Rebecca A. 

(TG)

This is the second chapter of a story I will produce a new chapter of 
(hopefully) every two weeks or so.  It  contains some fairly mild sex, 
but if you're under 18 etc... it's not for you.  Those of you looking for 
hot sex will probably be disappointed, since it is petty tame stuff.

Feel free to archive or otherwise distribute, provided it is unedited and 
no fee is charged 
for access.  This story may not be distributed from any site that charges 
money, is 
members-only, or uses that ridiculous "adult check" thing (or any similar 
system).

All rights reserved by the author, who can be contacted at 
cyan@anon.nymserver.com

I hope you enjoy it.  Please let me know.

Becky

***


Chapter Two.

At about 4.00 am I woke, in agony. It felt like my joints were on fire. 
My mouth was 
dry, and my head was pounding. At first I wasn't sure what to do. I 
didn't want to wake 
Catherine. But a spasm of pain swept through me and I groaned, and she 
was instantly 
awake. "What's wrong?" she asked. I tried to explain as best I could, and 
she was 
immediately in professional mode, taking my pulse and my temperature and 
inspecting 
me clinically.

"You have a high fever," she said. "I'm going to take you over to the 
clinic." 

We dressed, although she had to help me, I was shaking as well as having 
muscle 
spasms. I was terrified. "What's happening to me?" I cried. I tried to 
explain to 
Catherine that apart from the events of the past month or so I'd barely 
had a sick day in 
my life. Ever since that accident at Dawe ...

"I know," she said. "I couldn't find any problems then, but I think I 
must have missed 
something. I'm going to get my friend Bob Esterhaus to look at you."

I was in enormous pain, through fiery stabbing pains in my joints and a 
burning feeling 
around my face, but Catherine said she'd rather not give me anything if I 
could stand the 
pain until she'd run a couple of tests. We went out to her car, as I was 
sure I couldn't 
drive and she didn't want to wrestle with mine again. She had a small red 
BMW, which 
she drove quickly and efficiently while I moaned in the seat beside her, 
convinced my 
body was dissolving or something. While she drove she was on the 
cellphone to 
someone.

We arrived at the clinic she worked at, and were greeted by several 
orderlies and a nurse 
who placed me on a gurney and wheeled me into a small consulting room. I 
was still 
moaning, and tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable. Catherine 
came into the 
room with a guy I took to be a doctor. After a few moments he organized a 
shot which 
took away all my pain. I reached for Catherine's hand and she held mine 
as I slipped 
away into unconsciousness.

I drifted in and out of awareness several times, each time seeing figures 
beside the bed 
but only vaguely, before I awoke completely in the light of day. The sun 
was trying to 
poke through the drawn blinds, and I could see it was a sunny day 
outside. As I twisted 
in bed I noticed that, although I thought I still had a buzz from the 
drugs, the pain was 
mostly gone. I had an IV drip in my arm, and a hospital gown on. There 
was no sign of 
Catherine.

After I'd been awake about ten minutes a nurse came in, and gave a small 
start when she 
saw I was awake. She gave me a shot in the hip, scuttled out again, then 
returned about 
five minutes later with a tall, imposing man who introduced himself as Dr 
Esterhaus. He 
flicked the fluorescent lights in the room on.

"How are you feeling this morning, Mr. Ealey?"

I had to clear my throat to speak. My voice came out a little hoarse and 
raspy. I told him 
I felt a lot better, though perhaps that was the drugs.

"Yes, you've been very feverish for a while now. We were quite concerned. 
Mr. Ealey 
--"

"-- Call me Jim"

"-- Jim, Can you understand me clearly?"

I nodded, and he continued. "Jim, Dr Adams -- Catherine -- was only able 
to give us a 
few details about you. Your friend Tom Masterson gave us some others, but 
I need to 
ask you some questions if that's alright." He'd spoken to Tom, too? That 
was fast. He 
pulled a chair from the side of the room and sat down next to the bed. 
The nurse handed 
him the charts from the foot of the bed, and went to open the blinds. 

He ran through some basic questions. Any allergies to medication that I 
knew about? He 
asked me to describe the symptoms I'd had recently. "That was all after 
the incident at 
Dawe Chemical?" he asked. I nodded. 

"Well," he went on, "I've looked at your blood work from that accident 
and you seemed 
fine then. Jim, does your family have any history of medical problems we 
should know 
about?"

I thought of my Mom and Dad, still healthy as ever back in Detroit. And 
my 
grandparents, who were still, all four of them, active and healthy. I 
told him we weren't 
a family that was prone to get sick at all. He then asked me whether I'd 
been overseas 
recently, perhaps to Africa? 

I shook my head. "No. I went to Europe for a while just after I 
graduated, but that's the 
only travel I've done unless you count Canada a few times."

He settled into his chair and looked at me earnestly. Jim, we'd like to 
keep you for 
observation for a while. You're certainly not well enough to be 
discharged yet anyway. 
But we'd like to run some tests to see if we can pin down what this is. 
The last few days 
have had us a little puzzled. We --"

I interrupted. "The last few days? What do you mean?"

Dr Esterhaus seemed momentarily surprised. "Jim, you've been here for 
several days 
now. Today is Thursday"

"I came in on Monday morning." 

"Yes," he said gently. "You've been somewhat delirious for most of that 
time. This is 
the first opportunity we've had to ask you these questions."

I lay back in bed and tried to think. The last thing I remembered 
properly was being in 
the passenger seat of Catherine's car, in agony.

"Jim, we'd like to run some more tests if that's okay with you." 

"What kind?"

"Blood tests, mostly, though there are a few others. We need to take some 
x-rays and 
some urine samples." He hesitated, as though searching for words. He 
looked grave. 

His expression bothered me. "What?" I said impatiently.

"It's not HIV, we know that."

I snorted. "I could have told you that, Doc. I take my responsibilities 
seriously, and I'm 
always careful. Besides, I haven't exactly been very active over the last 
few years."

"Yes. Well, we know it isn't that. Jim, I'll be blunt. We're unsure at 
the moment really, 
because a lot of things don't fit, but we think perhaps -- and this is 
only a perhaps so 
you should not be too concerned -- you might have some new form of 
leukemia we 
haven't seen before. Your leukocyte count -- white blood cells -- is way 
up, well over 
normal, and we can't find a viral infection so we don't quite know yet 
what's causing it. 
But if it is a form of leukemia it's not one we've seen before. Your 
fever is abnormal, 
and points to a viral cause, and the pains you are describing don't quite 
fit either. But 
we'd like to rule out that possibility before we go any further." 

I looked at the ceiling and wished I could lapse back into 
unconsciousness. 

Over the next few days I was subjected to several tests. Dr Esterhaus 
came and asked me 
some more questions about the accident at Dawe. Tom called by on the 
Friday night, and 
we talked for a while. I was pretty light headed from the painkillers and 
found it hard to 
keep my concentration. Most of the time I slept. partly I think because 
of the drugs and 
also because I seemed to be very tired again. On the Saturday I woke up 
to find 
Catherine sitting beside the bed, reading a book. I watched her for a few 
moments, 
before she looked up to see me looking at her. She smiled. I'd forgotten 
how good that 
was. "How are you?" she asked.

"My voice was still raspy. "Pretty good, I guess. Whatever these 
painkillers are, they're 
great."

"Careful," she said jokingly, "We Doctors are good pushers when we want 
to be."

"Catherine ... I'm very, very sorry about putting you through all this." 

She stood up, and came and stood close to the bed. She ran her hand 
through my hair. 
"It's okay," she said gently. "You gave me a bit of a fright the other 
night, though. I 
thought I was thorough when I checked you out at Dawe."

"Dr Esterhaus says you were. He looked at the blood tests you did --

"-- Yes, I passed them on to him when you were unconscious. That's kind 
of a breach 
of ethics, but I was worried."

Did he tell you what he thought it might be?"

"No," Catherine said. It was the first time I had the feeling she might 
not have been 
telling me the truth. I changed the subject, and we talked for a while 
about some of the 
bad daytime television I'd been trying to watch. Catherine stayed until 
about nine, sitting 
on the bed next to me. We kissed -- I was embarrassed because I hadn't 
had the 
opportunity to brush my teeth for a while. Eventually she left. I lay 
back and thought of 
the last time we'd been together. I feel asleep eventually and had some 
vivid and 
disturbing dreams, the first dreams I'd had since being in hospital. She 
was in the 
dream, too. But there was someone else, someone who wanted to take 
something away 
from me, and I didn't know what it was they wanted. I forgot most of it 
when I woke in 
the middle of the night, but it disturbed me all the same.

By the middle of the next week the pain didn't seem so bad, and they 
began to wean me 
off the drugs. Dr. Esterhaus came to see me each day, and on the Monday 
he was able to 
tell me that he'd been able to positively rule out Leukemia and most of 
the known blood 
diseases. He was sure it wasn't contagious, whatever it was. So if the 
pain subsided I 
would be able to go home soon.

Catherine came to see me every second day or so. As the pain wore off I 
became better 
company. She'd come by on the nights she wasn't on call, and we'd watch 
TV together, 
or just talk about whatever came into our heads. She heard a lot about my 
childhood, I 
learned a lot more about her life before she met me. She'd done a lot for 
someone who 
was only in her mid twenties, and had traveled throughout Europe and most 
of Asia, 
even as far as India. She brought me in some photographs of her in India, 
looking like a 
hippie when she was 19 and had long hair. She looked cute then, but she'd 
improved as 
she'd gotten older.

Three weeks after I had been admitted I was allowed to go home. Catherine 
came to pick 
me up. She took me to Tom's place, at his suggestion, since I was still 
pretty weak and 
Dr Esterhaus wasn't thrilled about me being on my own a lot. Tom was at 
work during 
the days, and I knew he had a pretty full social life with the ladies, 
but he told me I not to argue, and that he wouldn't have me stay anywhere 
else. I had the phone diverted from 
my place to his. Catherine promised me she'd come by regularly. 

I took over Tom's spare bedroom. I was able to walk around, though I was 
still very 
weak. My body felt drained. I had been in good physical condition before 
I was admitted 


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