Chapter Text
Ray coughed into his elbow as he leaned over the counter, fighting to stay upright. He thought what he had been feeling the past couple of days was the lingering affects of the cold he caught from Carlos, but now he wasn’t so sure. He felt worse. He didn’t remember Carlos having the ongoing chills and fatigue he still felt. Rest hadn’t been easy to come by last night; he was up all night with a tightness in his chest that no amount of VapoRub was able to cure and was feeling the effects of sleep deprivation settling in.
And his chest still felt congested.
He didn’t have time for this.
He had photos to edit, photography sessions to schedule, a wedding venue to tour, a concert he forgot he signed up to film in a few days. Carlos’ baseball practice was starting back and Julie’s school had called again about her not completing her music assignments. His kids needed food to eat that weren’t just frozen dinners and the hospital bills were starting to roll in from Rose’s treatments (you know, the ones that didn’t treat anything). Needless to say, he had insurance companies to yell at.
But as stressed as he felt, he didn’t feel like yelling at anyone. He just felt like sleeping. Which he couldn’t do. And he felt like breathing. Which it also felt like he couldn’t do.
Ray didn’t know what to do. If Rose were here, she would know. She always seemed to magically be able to treat all of the kids’ ailments just by being there. He knew she always made him feel better just by being there.
Breathe, mi amor, he could hear her encourage him.
He tried. He just coughed instead, and it hurt. God his chest hurt.
“Buenos días, mi familia!” Victoria’s familiar voice called. Why was she here? He couldn’t remember. “Carlos! Julie! I hope you’re ready for-“
She stopped when she came into the kitchen to not see his kids rushing to get ready but him, leaning over the counter, desperately trying to suck in a good breath.
Okay, he was officially sure this wasn’t any normal kind of cold. But the last thing he wanted was Victoria panicking over him. He was grateful for her help, he was, but she was just…a lot.
“Ray!” Victoria cried, rushing over. “What’s wrong? Where are the kids?”
“They took the bus,” he explained, feeling more breathless just from those words. “You…here?”
“I thought I was taking them today,” she sighed, “but it’s a good thing I’m here now because you look terrible. Come, sit. What’s wrong?”
He did let her help him sit down because sitting seemed like a better idea than standing, but he still had to lean over with his hands rested on the table. His chest felt even worse just taking those few steps, but he was sure if he could just find a comfortable position, it would take some of the pressure off.
“I’m fine. I just…need to…rest.”
“Raymond Alejandro Rodriguez Molina, you are not fine!”
He winced at the use of his full name. Well. He had successfully succeeded at freaking out Victoria. And admittedly, he was starting to get a little freaked out too. Then he saw her whip out her phone and dial three numbers.
“I’m not…ambulance sick,” he insisted.
“The person who can’t breathe doesn’t get to decide that,” Victoria announced. Then she placed a surprisingly comforting hand on his shoulder as she told the operated: “I need an ambulance for my brother. I think he’s having a heart attack.”
Okay, now he was scared too.
Ray could have gone a lifetime without hearing another beep of a hospital monitor. Yet here he was, only two months after his wife died, hooked up to his very own machine. He had his own electrocardiogram leads, his own oximeter to monitor his oxygen on his finger, his own blood pressure cuff. He now was even having his own echocardiogram done for the very first time to look at his heart.
“I guess this is how you know you’re getting old,” Ray teased to the young tech once he felt like he could talk and breathe at the same time, “you can’t get a cold without them looking at your heart.”
The tech simply studied the images she was getting closer and squeezed more of the cool gel on his chest. It reminded him all too well of the reaction when Rose had one of her first scans done.
The rest of the day dragged on in a long waiting game. Victoria stayed dutifully by his bed, not minding to storm into the hall if his call bell went unnoticed or the doctor ‘seeing him soon’ turned into yet another forty-minute wait. Waiting for a doctor to come in with inevitable terrible news wasn’t exactly helping his chest tightness. Or the blood pressure numbers Victoria kept glaring at.
“You have got to look after yourself better, mi hermano.”
He sighed. This was the last conversation he felt like having.
“I’ve been a bit preoccupied,” he reminded her coldly.
She looked genuinely hurt.
“I know that,” his sister-in-law reached for his hand. “I know that, Ray. That’s what I mean. A loss like that, a stress like this…becoming a single dad. It’s going to take its toll. You’re not the same person you were before Rose…” she stopped, closed her eyes and took in a short breath. “Her diagnosis, her loss, it’s aged you. I don’t mean that as an insult, I’m serious. You need to take that seriously too. I know it’s hard.”
“You have no idea.”
Closing his own eyes, Ray rest his head against the bed and tried to breathe as evenly as he could. It did help, at least, sitting straight up like this. The pressure from Victoria? The reminder that his life was only going to get worse from here and he wasn’t handling it? Not worth it.
“Mr. Molina?” A kind voice asked from the doorway.
He looked up to find a young medical fellow smiling at him. Victoria made to stand up, but he grabbed her hand, encouraging her to stay. Whatever the news was, he really didn’t want to hear it alone.
“How are you feeling?” The doctor asked as she came over to do what felt like his tenth heart assessment of the day.
“A little better,” he admitted, “the oxygen helped, but my chest…it just hurts.”
“Show me where.”
He did. If there was one thing Ray learned watching his wife go through cancer treatments, it was no matter how brave of a face you put on for your family, when the doctor asked you questions you didn’t lie. That defeated the purpose of going for treatment.
“Well the good news is, you’re not having a heart attack.”
Ray blinked.
“I’m not?”
“Of course you’re not,” Victoria chimed in, “you think they would have kept you waiting all day if it were a heart attack?”
Good point.
The doctor managed an awkward smile and returned to him.
“You have pericarditis.”
His heart skipped beats; the monitor beeped at him for it.
“That…what is that?” He asked.
“In a nutshell, it means the tissue around your heart is inflamed,” the doctor explained.
Oh shit.
“That…that sounds almost worse than a heart attack.”
Her smile was a little more reassuring this time.
“It sounds scary, but your condition is actually quite mild,” she told him. Ray let out a sigh of relief and almost instantly, he could have sworn his chest felt a bit lighter. “Have you been sick recently?”
“The kids have been going through it with the colds and flus,” he admitted. “I thought I just had a cold.”
“Pericarditis can often form after an infection,” the doctor explained. “Your chest x-ray shows that you actually have a bit of bronchitis.”
Oh.
Victoria smacked his shoulder and scolded: “A cold. Seriously, Ray?”
“Are you the wife?” The doctor asked, amused.
The room went painfully quiet; a familiar lump formed in the back of his throat.
“She’s my sister-in-law. My wife died, two months ago,” he explained. He let out a few long breaths as he blinked away tears, desperate to hold it together. “I’ve been so focused on my two kids...maybe I haven’t been taking as good of care of myself as I thought."
The doctor’s face fell with empathy.
“That’s understandable,” she offered. “Sometimes a big life event like a loss can have a huge impact on your health. The stress takes a toll. It might be harder to recover from illnesses, your heart health can be affected. How have you been sleeping?”
He grimaced.
“Not…much.”
“Eating?”
“Lots of frozen dinners,” Victoria answered for him. She patted his arm. “I should have known, I was just focused on comfort foods. I will come over and cook you guys a fresh meal at least twice a week.”
“You really don’t have to…”
“It’s actually good to try to gradually do those things for yourself, to help you adjust to your new role after losing a spouse,” the doctor explained. She held up a hand. “But all of that can wait. For now, we are focused on treating your pericarditis. With treatment, you should be feeling much better soon. Have you been taking anything that helps?”
It was a lot to take in and try to answer a question like that all at once. He had a heart condition. Maybe not a long-lasting complicated one, but something was wrong with his heart. His kids went to school thinking he had a cough from a cold. If they had gotten a call saying he had attack…
His kids couldn’t lose another parent.
He really had to get heart healthy. Fast.
“Just Ibuprofen,” he replied. “It helps some, but not much. I’ll do whatever you need me to. Give me all the drugs, send me to all the doctors. I have to get better.”
Victoria squeezed his hand, looking proud.
“And you will,” the doctor assured him. “Fortunately for you, pericarditis usually resolves with over-the-counter treatment like Ibuprofen after a few weeks. I’ll give you a prescription dose.”
He blinked.
“Wait…that’s it?”
He felt dizzy just thinking about how much all this would cost him, just for some Ibuprofen.
“Yes, and it’s a good thing,” Victoria answered for the doctor, who threw her a look.
“Yes,” the doctor agreed. “I’ll give you some corticosteroids and antibiotics as well to help the bronchitis. I would like for you to follow up with a cardiologist in a couple of weeks, and I will be leaving you with some information about staying heart healthy. I hope you feel better soon, Mr. Molina.”
He groaned as soon as the doctor left and rubbed his hands over his tired face. He wasn’t sure if he felt more frustrated or relieved.
“Ibuprofen,” he grumbled.
Victoria smacked his shoulder again.
“And antibiotics and steroids! And the peace of mind that you’re not having a heart attack and the referral to a cardiologist. Are you seriously disappointed it’s not something worse?”
“No,” he admitted. It was just…a lot. “No, I’m actually a little freaked out.”
“Good.” Then she carefully gave him a much-needed hug. “I can’t lose you too.”
“You won’t,” he promised her as he hugged her back. “But if my work crew asks, can we tell them I was given something a little more serious than Ibuprofen?”
Rolling her eyes, his sister-in-law simply scolded: “Men.”