“Justin, maybe you should go and get some rest. You do have a show tomorrow,” his best friend and personal assistant, Trace said to him. Trace’s voice startled him out of his reverie. Four hours sitting in a private waiting room at Cedar-Sinai Medical Center, after having transported Mila here.
“You really think I can go home and rest not knowing what happened. You didn’t see her man. She was turning blue in the face. Then, all she tells me is ‘help’ and I can’t even fucking help her because I don’t know what’s wrong!” Justin exclaimed, his patience wearing out. Jumping to his feet, he paced the small waiting room.
Trace looked over at Marty, who sat on the opposite end of the room, pleading to help convince Justin. Marty shrugged, then sighed and looked up at Justin.
“J, man, Trace has a …” he began but stopped, seeing a middle-aged man in a white coat enter the room.
“Camila Grecco?” he spoke, his eyes lifting from the clipboard in his hands.
“That’s us, sir,” Justin’s words jumbled together, rushing to stand in front of the doctor.
“Family?” he asked with an inquisitive eyebrow raise.
“No sir, she has no family. He is her employer, and we’re her coworkers,” Trace quickly stepped in seeing Justin’s nostrils begin to flare.
“Well, I’m sorry but we are only authorize to disclose patient information to immediate family,” the doctor regretfully informed them.
“Doctor, um…Levi, my name is Marty Kudelka and I am listed as authorized individual for Miss Grecco. She has filed such paperwork here at the hospital,” Marty spoke, noting the doctor’s name on the white coat. Justin and Trace looked at him in surprise; this all came as news to them.
“Well then, let me verify that and you said your name was Marty…” the doctor confirmed.
“Yes sir, Marty Kudelka, K-U-D-E-L-K-A,” he repeated and waited for the doctor to return.
“How the hell are you an ‘authorized’ party?” Trace disbelievingly asked.
“We had to that when she broke her foot 2 years ago,” Marty explained before the doctor returned.
“Alright, very well, I’ll begin with saying that Ms. Grecco is resting right now. She will need 7 to 10 days of extreme resting. After speaking to Miss Grecco and running several tests, the chest discomfort and lack of oxygen that she suffered is called angina. Now, angina occurs when the blood oxygen supply decreased to any area of the heart muscle. Symptoms includes pressure, heaviness, squeezing, and aching across the chest. Sometimes the pain will travel to the neck, jaw, arms, and back. Miss Grecco has expressed feeling most of these discomforts throughout the course of the day, along with weakness and shortness of breath,” Dr. Levi explained, folding his hands at his front.
“I noticed her breathing heavily before the encore,” Justin mumbled, running a shaky hand over his buzzed hair.
“It’s not something to blame yourself about, son. She assumed the symptoms were her becoming acclimated to touring again. I want to keep her overnight for observation, and she’ll be good to head home after lunch tomorrow. Now, she seems like a stubborn and independent young woman, so it’ll be a collective effort to get her to slow down,” Dr. Levi explained, silently pleading the three young men for their cooperation.
“Most definitely, sir, but can she continue with the tour? Can she continue to dance?” Marty voiced the doubt that loomed over their heads.
“Absolutely, but her body needs to rest before she can go back to a normal schedule. Her body seems to be running on low. If this didn’t bring her here, then exhaustion would have. In between shows, she needs to learn to relax and to rest her heart. I’ll be prescribing her some nitroglycerin tablets that help relax blood vessels and lowers her blood pressure. She’ll just need to keep a close eye on her heart, because we certainly don’t want it worsening, which it could,” Dr. Levi explained before giving them an opportunity to ask any questions. Afterwards, he gave them all a chance to go visit with her one at a time.
“I don’t think it was the tour that did this to her,” Marty spoke quietly to Justin when he returned from visiting Mila and allowing Trace to go in there.
“What do you mean?” Justin questioned, confusion etched across his features.
“J, Mila is a professional. This isn’t her first tour, man. She’s not a newbie. She knows how to take care of herself. There has to be something else that’s bothering her, not letting her rest. I tried getting her to tell me, but she just clammed up,” Marty replied. Justin nodded his head, paying attention to every word coming from Marty’s mouth.
“Hey J, you’re up…” Trace announced, walking in and taking a seat. Justin nodded and walked out into the hallway, trekked the short path to her room and gently knocked before pushing open the heavy oak door.
“Why the long face, Cowboy?” a slightly accented soft voice greeted him, as well as a small, tender and comforting smile.
“Some broad decided to scare me,” he replied nonchalantly, drawing a chair to her bedside.
“I’m sorry, but I’m ok. Just need rest, must be the tour,” she quickly explained, her eyes darting away from his inquisitive midnight blue eyes.
“Yeah, you do need rest. But, this isn’t your first rodeo, dollface. So, tell me, what’s going on?” he grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb over her hand in an effort to provide some comfort.
“Nothing is going on, J,” she replied, her voice as soft as a whisper.
“Camila, palarmi,” he commanded her eyes to meet his. “Dirmi, per favore.”
Her eyes met his, and swallowing back the knot in her throat, she parted her lips to speak. “I’m getting deported…”
