Stylist (book 1) - H.S

Chapter 5: Particular Taste.

A/N: song linked!! This one is a perfect description of El... 

Once the plane landed, I sent Anthony with my things to the hotel, and I went to some hospital in the middle of Denmark. It was recommended by my doctor in New York, of course, I'm just worried I will have a hard time communicating.

I wait now in the small lobby, my leg tapping due to irritability, and lack of sleep. I hope this doesn't take forever, normally I'm in and out within four hours and back home, but this is a whole different playing ground.

"Miss Montogomery?" A pale nurse comes from a door, and I stand, following her.

"I only speak english, I hope that won't be a problem." I speak to her back, and she turns, smiling.

"Most everyone here does too." Her accent makes her voice thick, but she's still got a sweet tone.

"That's a relief, I was worried I'd be a problem." I laugh, and she motions to the same type of infusion chair we have home, letting me take a seat.

"Alright, I know you're probably used to getting started right away with this, but we have never seen you here so we're going to ask a few questions before we take your vitals, and get you started, is that okay?" She asks, and I nod.

"Alright, name and birthday." I answer her question, as she prepares to get my vitals. "Alright it says in your chart you were diagnosed with Crohn's Disease two years ago, you haven't had any major issues, but you've been under close watch?" She asks, and I nod again. "How is your appetite lately?" She asks, taking my blood pressure.

"It's been decent, I've tried to stick to more clean foods, less processed." I tell her, and she nods.

"It seems you know exactly what your body needs. Any symptoms?" She gives me a straightforward look, a lot of Crohn's patients are embarrassed by their symptoms and prefer to downplay them, but I have no shame. This is just part of my life.
"Just the normal fatigue and nausea. A few stomach pains every now and then, but nothing my medications don't help with. I take them as soon as I feel anything." I recite as if I do this every day.

"Perfect. Do you need refills on any of those prescriptions while you are here?" The nurse asks while gently removing the blood pressure cuff.

"No thank you, I have enough to get me through the rest of my trip." I answer, giving her a polite smile.

"Alright, that's all I need to know for now. We're just going to finish up with your vitals, and then get the infusion started." She tells me, and I nod, letting her do her job.

I started infusions to help block proteins that cause inflammation and the build up of scar tissue in my intestines, and that's why I haven't had any major problems yet. Every eight weeks I'm here getting another infusion, and it's become part of the routine the past two years.

After around three hours, my IV is removed, and I'm asked if I'm alright to stand, and of course I am. I pick myself up, a light headache already occurring, and I pay the small downpayment my insurance doesn't cover, walking right to the street, calling a cab to take me to the venue. I know I need to eat something soon too, even though the chances of me actually keeping that food down are slim, I have to try, they always tell me to try.

Once we pull up, I make sure to get out of the car slowly, approaching the door, and letting the warm air take over. I walk into the dressing room to see everyone hanging out per usual, and I smile and wave, ignoring Harry's gaze.

"Where were you this morning?" Sarah asks, and I put my purse down, sitting down as well.

"Just out by myself." I smile, and I shrug, avoiding the questioning eyes.