In/Exhale: Season One Excerpt

Jon leaned against the counter of the nurses station, making notes into an open chart.

“How’s Kai?”

Jon looked over enough to see Joanna Johnson, one of the most respected nurses on floor six of Jonesville Memorial Hospital, which was dedicated mostly to pulmonary patients. She’d become almost like a mother to Kai, as Kai’s FS had brought him in frequently for treatment over his lifetime.

“He’s well,” Jon said curtly, turning back to his chart, then mumbling, “Too well.”

Jo heard him clearly. “How can someone be too well?”

Jon sighed and shut the chart, shifting so he faced her, one elbow on the counter. “We know so little about FS. We don’t even really understand the mechanism of disease. All we really know is it’s obstructive, both acutely and chronically. That it has symptoms that mimic severe asthma and CF, and that it causes rapid bronchiolitis obliterans in some patients. It’s no wonder I’ve had a hell of a time convincing anyone it’s a distinct disorder.”

It was BO that had hit Kai hard less than a year out of high school, causing extensive fibrosis in his lungs that had made them nearly useless, forcing Kai to struggle for every breath, barely able to keep his body oxygenated even on 100% oxygen delivered transtracheally. It had taken all of Jon’s will and clout, along with the help of Dr. MacDonald and Dr. Johnsen, Jon’s mentor and Kai’s pulmonologist for the past twenty years, respectively, not to mention the pathological evidence, to even convince the transplant committee to consider listing him for transplant. Then they’d spent years waiting, as Kai’s condition deteriorated, Jon worrying they wouldn’t find a match in time, wishing they had another living relative so he could offer himself as a living transplant. And then, when a match had finally been found, there’d been another battle with the committee because of Kai’s MLS, several physicians arguing that because of his progressive physical disability, the transplant should go to someone else. Thankfully, MacDonald had convinced the committee and Kai had successfully undergone the double-lung cadaveric transplant, but Jon had never been able to look at some of his colleagues the same after that.

Jon was grateful that he’d been allowed involvement in Kai’s care at all, because although they no longer shared a last name, it was a small community who knew they were brothers, and it normally wasn’t ethical for a doctor to treat a relative. But there were extenuating circumstances, and despite his reservations to Jo, Jon had managed to acquire several substantial grants for research that the hospital greatly appreciated. As a result, Jon was granted more freedom and leniancy as long as the money and publicity kept rolling in.

“Deep breath,” Jo said with a warm smile. “You’re doing good work here. You’ll get there. Anyone with any sense will look at your patients and see they’re not true asthmatics, because you don’t see that level of mucosal build-up or fibrosis in asthma. And CF is easy to rule out even if the respiratory symptoms suggest otherwise.”

Jon nodded. “I just worry . . . what if . . .” Jon struggled to say what he meant. “Of course we told the committee the transplant would be curative, and right now it looks that way, but . . .” Jon let his voice drop off, unable to speak the words he feared so much.

Thankfully, Jo nodded as if she understood. Then she placed a comforting hand on his arm. “It’ll be OK. And even if it won’t, you should spend time with him while you can. Most of us are tired of seeing you around this place all the time anyway.”

Jon managed a laugh, rare for him, and swept his hand through his hair. It was a habit he’d developed as a kid and had never managed to shake, even in med school and residency when he’d be chastised for it repeatedly. Even when he’d tried to clip his hair short so he’d have nothing to pull fingers through, he’d still found his hand going through the motion.

“You tell him I said hi,” she said, her eyes twinkling a bit. “And as much as I miss him, I hope I don’t see him around here any time soon, all right?”

Jon nodded and watched Jo turn to go. “Jo–thanks,” he said, grateful for the warm smile she flashed him as she turned. He knew he couldn’t thank her enough for being there for Kai all those years that he couldn’t.

It wasn’t his first time on campus, or even his first college class, but a flutter of nervousness still floated in his stomach as Kai pulled into the closest available handicapped space to Thomas Hall, where he had his first two classes. Kai sat in his car for a moment, the engine tinking as it cooled down, his eyes shut, focusing. This time would be different, he told himself. He was different. As if to remind himself of the fact, he took a slow deep breath, letting it out easily. Kai opened his eyes one by one, noticing the students, all of them younger than him, milling about, bags slung over shoulders as they hurried off to their classes, and glanced over at his crutches. Troy, his physical therapist, had encouraged him to spend a few hours a day without them, and Kai was anxious for the anonymity not needing them would bring.

He was old enough now that probably none of the students would know him, and he’d have the chance to make new friendships, he hoped. The new start he desperately needed. Still, he hadn’t yet tried to manage much without them outside of the apartment, and it made him nervous to leave them in the car. Kai sucked in a satisfyingly easy breath, grabbed his bag, and pushed the door open.

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