Microstory 2245: Complaint to You

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I had lunch with my old friends today. It was my former assistant, who replaced me at the jail, and my former parole officer. At first, I thought that Leonard was being respectful by ordering a vegetarian meal, but as it turns out, I inspired him to become a vegetarian. I’m really happy about that, and I hope the trend continues, if only due to the fear of a prion disease. They ran a full investigation of the restaurant where I allegedly (I legally have to say it like that) ate contaminated meat, and they were unable to find evidence of further contamination. So you should be able to eat there again if you want, in case you were waiting for an answer regarding that problem. I guess I should have said something earlier. Anyway, the meal we had today was great, and I enjoyed the company. It was nice to be out in public again, even though men in suits were standing at the ready. I always wanted to be famous, but important—like a politician would be—is a different concept. Someone like that is a target. I did not want it to be like this. I knew there was a chance that I may end up with a stalker or two, but not that everyone I saw was a potential threat. People were staring, not only because it was me, but because I was clearly under protection. Fortunately, it didn’t get any worse than that. I’m not one to advertise my location, so it didn’t draw a big crowd, or anything, but I fear that this might start happening if the media begins to track my movements. Maybe I should just stay home all the time, and never show my face. That may sound like a complaint to you, but it doesn’t sound like one to me. There are worse ways to live, believe you me. Speaking of which, we still haven’t gotten word on whether my offer on the house has been approved. Even if it is, it will still take some time to complete all the paperwork, and whathaveyou. Until next week, goodbye.

Microstory 2242: Uncharted Territory

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The FBI are releasing me to my private security firm, contingent upon me scheduling an appointment with my doctors. Given the circumstances, I’m sure that this makes sense to them, but it doesn’t serve much of a purpose for me. I guess there’s a chance that I’ve been stricken ill with something new in the last couple of weeks. That would certainly fit with my M.O. I’m really hoping that it hasn’t happened, though, which is why I’m being really careful about what I eat, and where. Of course, I wash my hands religiously, but I’ve always done that. I shower twice a day too, which may be overkill, but you can never be too careful. I also don’t go outside without sunscreen on. This was something that my mom kind of wanted me to always do, and it seems that it just took several decades, and having multiple near-death experiences, to take her advice. Still, that’s not really what they’re worried about. You see, they don’t see a man who was miraculously healed from a terminal disease. They just see a man who had a terminal disease earlier this month. The doctors feel the same way, and they’re not going to let anyone take samples from me until I’ve had enough time to recover from that. Which is ridiculous, because there is no such thing as recovering from a prion disease, so right there is their failure in logic. But I get it. It’s uncharted territory, so they’re doing their best to figure out how we proceed. Their training tells them that I need to wait—that I’m not ready to undergo a serious procedure after my last health ordeal. As doctors who study science, it’s hard for them to understand that my brief immortality means no waiting period is necessary. In the end, though, it’s not really up to them. My body, my choice applies to many different situations, this one included, I would say. I’m going to let them take my index, and a little bit of my bone marrow. I’m going to do it for the money, and for science. Then I’m going to get back to my life, or at least determine what that life is from here on out. Maybe I’ll go back to working at the nursery, if they’ll let me. Or maybe it’s too hazardous there, so I won’t. Or maybe I will anyway.

Microstory 2231: Back to Life

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I can’t believe that I’m writing this. Something truly miraculous happened, which all but proves that Nick was telling the truth the whole time about being an immortal time traveler. I guess I better start at the beginning of the story. At exactly 8:15 this morning, which is reportedly Nick’s favorite time, the nurse switched off his life support machines, and let him pass on to the end of his life. I was there with him, as was his former assistant at the jail, Jasmine. We were crying, and telling him that it was okay for him to leave, that we would be able to go on without him. And with those words, his vitals dropped to zero, and he was gone. Not five seconds later, a guy I used to know came in through a door near Nick’s isolation bubble—which is supposed to lead to a supply closet—brought forth by a spread of colorful light. Those who saw it at the right angle report seeing some kind of tropical beach on the other side of the threshold. Months ago, just as Nick was starting his job at the nursery where I worked, a coworker named Dutch Haines mysteriously disappeared. Nick was convinced that there was a supernatural explanation for it, and of course, no one believed it, because they had no reason to. But now we do. Dutch has told me that he was on another world, though we have not had enough time for any specifics, because his reëmergence was not the most impressive part of the story. Not at all.

Nick suddenly came back to life. The monitors started beeping again as he was arching his back. Color returned to his skin, and his eyes opened. He pulled the intubator out of his throat with ease, and sat up. For a moment, he sat there, strong and proud. He was not just back to his old self, but a powerful, more confident version. He looked younger than he did the day I met him earlier this year. He pulled the IV needle out of his arm just as Dutch’s door was falling closed. Someone tried to open it again, but found only the supply closet on the other side. I remember Nick positing that his health could be rejuvenated if a link to the multiverse was created, even if only for a few seconds, and he was so right about that. For those few seconds when Dutch returned to us, Nick was immortal once more. He has seemingly gone back to normal since that door closed, but it’s too late for the prion. Apparently, Nick’s immortality came in multiple layers, even though some may seem to cancel out the others, and those layers are there for a situation such as this. In that one moment, the prion disease was cured, and Nick was restored to health. He was invincible and ageless for only that short period of time, but that’s all he needed. He now looks like a normal twentysomething guy, free from all disease, or other medical problems. He can now surely suffer from something new again, but at least he’s not terminal anymore. Now we just need to convince the world that this hasn’t been one big lie. People will say that it never happened—that it was just a prank, or maybe even a long con. But it’s real. Dozens of people witnessed it in person, and millions more watched the livestream. Plus, several doctors diagnosed his condition before the miracle. He was definitely on his deathbed, and there was no way for him to get out of it unless something like this occurred. The doctors are frantically examining and testing him now, but we all already know the truth, don’t we? Nick is meant to be immortal, and he’s not meant to be in this universe. Now more than ever, he must find a way back home, and I for one, am ecstatic for the opportunity to help him

Microstory 2227: Die Eventually Too

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The hospital board has come to a decision. Well, it’s a compromise, really. Since Nick is terminal, and all that we can really do for him is keep him comfortable, and safe from secondary infections, he will be allowed to return home for the time being. He and I will not be alone, though. While I’ll continue to live there, and be available 24/7, a nurse will be coming in every morning for a ten-hour shift. I can provide him with his basic needs, but there are some things that I can’t do, and I think that the hospital wants to cover all the bases. There is no additional cost for this service. It’s a sort of compensation for the generous contributions to science that he’s making by donating his still living body now, and his deceased body in the future. We shall see how it goes, though I’m pretty optimistic about it. This is only a tentative plan, though. If something goes wrong while I’m here, but the nurse is not—or even if the nurse is here too—then they might move him to the hospital for good. The sad thing is that something bad probably will happen eventually. This is all about putting off the inevitable, which may make you wonder, why not just go ahead and check in now, just to be safe? Well, if we surrender to that, why don’t you check into the hospital right now, because you’re going to die eventually too. Life is about living it, and everyone has the right to determine for themselves what that means, and where to do it. Yes, he’ll likely have no choice but to get a room eventually, but why lower his morale now when we have the ability to maintain his high spirits? Anyway, he’s having some trouble speaking these days, but he’s found ways to vocalize his thoughts to me, even while he struggles, so I think I’m going to be able to use his words for tomorrow’s posts.

Microstory 2226: Not Giving Up on Him

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If you’ve been following Nick’s social media posts over the weekend, you’ll know that his health fell into a steep decline. He was still alive, and still aware of me in the room, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds, and he had a hell of a time speaking. His tremors went away, though. He was very still. I made the decision to keep him comfortable, and let him have the weekend. I was going to monitor him closely, and check him into the hospital if he did not get better in the next two days. Well, he somehow did get better. He was awake and alert this morning, and able to form full sentences. Sadly, his tremors came back too. It’s like his body shut down to take a break, and now it’s back to how it was last week. So he’s not cured, or anything, but I see it as a promising development. The doctors aren’t so optimistic. This is an unusual symptom for the type of prion that he has, but it’s not unheard of. He’ll go through dips, and come out of them as if he’s gotten better, but then he’ll go right back down. They want to keep him overnight to get a better read on the pattern that he’s on right now, but the dips don’t necessarily warrant a permanent stay, which is good. They expect him to recover from each dip. Now, if he starts having trouble breathing, that’s when things have gotten too bad for me to be able to care for him alone. But until that happens, the medical staff are willing to accept his wishes to remain in a more comfortable and familiar environment. He’s with PT in the hallway right now, trying to keep his brain and body active. The best way to fight the misfolded proteins is to exercise the good proteins. The disease is slowly taking over, so he has to be as much himself as possible. I’ll encourage to keep trying to formulate his own words for these posts to stave off the inevitable for as long as possible. He agrees that this is a good idea. And who knows, he may find himself regaining the ability to type it all out himself. I’m not giving up on him just yet.

Microstory 2225: All Sectors of All Fields

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Nick wrote the social media post that he just sent out. And I do mean that. He was able to stay in control of his arm movements enough to type it out on the computer, and even click the submit button. I’m so proud of him. He tried to write this one up himself too, but it proved to be too difficult, and we’re low on time. We ended up staying in the hospital far longer than we wanted, and I’m not a happy mama bird. I told them that we had a maximum time of five hours, and the researchers who are studying his condition did not adhere to that. I mean, it’s not like they locked him up in the lab, chained him to the table, and started poking him with needles while they laughed maniacally. They just kept wanting to conduct more tests, and asking him questions. There was always just one more thing to try. There was also a lot of hurrying up and waiting. This happens because people will typically not take that into account when estimating the amount of time they need to finish working on something. This is true for most people in all sectors of all fields. Anyway, I don’t want to complain too much, but I am going to seek legal counsel for Nick. We need to get the agreement in writing, so this sort of thing doesn’t happen again. Until then, he’s not going back to that facility unless it’s a medical emergency, or some other issue that I can’t handle myself. I’m sure we’ll get it all worked out. I know that no one made this happen on purpose. But he’s very tired right now, and I have to get his dinner prepared so he can get some rest. Until next week!

Microstory 2224: Done With My Remains

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I’m back at the hospital. We thought that this was going to be a weekly thing, but it appears that I’m going to have to incorporate it into my daily schedule. It’s a lot of work for Kelly, so I’m giving her a raise. It’s not like I can’t afford it. I’ll be dead soon, and any money left over is going to go to charity since I have literally no next of kin on Earth. Researchers want to poke and prod me as much as they can before I kick the bucket. I have always been a supporter of science, so if I have to suffer for a few weeks to help the world better understand how prions work, then I’m gonna do it with no complaints. I do have a line, though. I’ll still be living at home. That is nonnegotiable. I recognize and appreciate the importance of this research. Nonetheless, I’m entitled to die with at least a little bit of dignity, and some approximation of comfort. Kelly and I agree to go into the facility once a day for a minimum of two hours, but a maximum of five hours. Anything beyond that is too much for me to handle. However, like I said, I’ll be dead soon, and when that happens, they can do whatever they want with my body for however long. The hospital will be in charge of however that works. But it has nothing to do with me; I don’t need anything special to be done with my remains. I know, this has all been so depressing. Maybe I’ll try to write something a bit lighter tomorrow. Maybe.

Microstory 2220: Rule It

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We have more information now. The prion has been identified. It’s called Neurodegenerative Artiodactyl Acquired Prion Disease, and it is only passed to humans through tainted meat. And since there has only been one time when Nick ate meat of any kind in the last couple of decades, he knows exactly how it happened. He knows what restaurant he went to, he knows precisely what he ordered. He has all sorts of information about the incident. Now, I’m sure the restaurant will claim that it couldn’t possibly be from them, but there can be no denying it. Because even if you don’t believe that Nick was once immortal, and from another universe, you have zero evidence that he ate meat at any other place. That doesn’t mean that there’s going to be a lawsuit, I honestly don’t know, because this is just the beginning of this chapter of the story. At this time, I do not believe that he’s considering taking legal action against anyone, but that doesn’t mean he won’t change his mind in the future. As I’m only his lifecare assistant, I have nothing to do with the decision, but I wouldn’t rule it out. He’s preoccupied right now, but once we get back into a routine, he may start to develop some harsh feelings for who did this to him. At the very least, they need to open an investigation into that restaurant, and into whoever provides them their beef, as well as any other possible victims. He’s obviously not the only person who ate that steak. His would-be business partners ordered basically the same thing, so they could be sick too. I know that there was this whole other legal thing about them claiming that he defamed them. He never told you the name of that company in the first place, but because of all this, it may end up finally coming to light. Like I said, we’re still in the early stages. My job has not changed. It’s still my responsibility to make sure that my patient is safe and comfortable. I have found him a new therapist. She’s experienced with treating the terminally ill. Even though we didn’t learn the prognosis until yesterday, it was rather clear to the both of us—and probably most of his hospital staff—that he was not going to get better. It’s just that now it’s been confirmed. So she’s already ready to go, and will be available to meet with him next week. I’m hoping that she will be able to convince him to get back to his website. I think it would be really important for him to express his final thoughts, so people can continue to read it after he’s gone, and maybe learn from his experiences. As I told you yesterday, not a lot of people are even aware that prions exist, but they are a real danger to your health, and should not be dismissed just because they’re rare. They do happen.

Microstory 2219: It is Always Fatal

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I might try to say more tomorrow, but today is not a good time to spend a lot of time curating a good post. We’re reeling from today’s news. We knew that it was bad. I mean, just look at him; it had to be bad. But we didn’t know quite how bad. There are five types of infections. When Nick first arrived in this universe, he contracted a virus, and shortly thereafter, he got a bacterial infection. These might be the two most common. There are some people who just get the cold every year, whether they take a vaccine for it or not. Fungal infections are fairly common too, and they often go untreated, because symptoms are sometimes rather mild, albeit fairly gross. He also managed to suffer from a fungus when he used some unclean showers in Iowa, but before that, a parasite took hold of him when he was exposed to the wrong plant at the nursery where he worked. All of this happened during the first quarter of this year, and he thought that he was out of the woods for a while. Sadly, that has turned out to not be true, though we didn’t know until today that the disease that he has is yet another infection. You see, all four of the types of infections that you’re familiar with can potentially be deadly. None of them is totally safe. But there is a fifth type that you have probably never even heard of, and the worst part about it is that it is always fatal. It’s called a prion, and while some prion diseases can be treated to some degree, they are the least understood class. The good news (or bad, depending on how you look at it), is that everything I’ve been doing with him has been everything that the doctor would have ordered had he diagnosed this before. Managing symptoms is the only possibly helpful course of action. Now that he knows that it’s there, he can study it more, and tweak some of Nick’s medications, but that’s about it. The horrible truth is that he is going to die from this. He may have a few months to live, but the doctor doesn’t see him making it through the New Year. I’ve written more than I planned on. I better end it here, so I can get back to taking care of him. We’ll see how much time I have tomorrow, or if I’m even emotionally up to it.

Microstory 2130: Not Lookin’ Good For Me

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Things are not good. At first, I thought I just overdid it with all the walking and shopping yesterday, and that surely exacerbated the issue, but that is not what’s making me sick. It couldn’t be. Exercise might make you nauseated, and certainly tired and sore, but my symptoms are a lot worse than that. I was restless all night last night. I’m not sure if I got any sleep, but I was pretty out of it the whole time. Things started to come back to me as more time passed after waking up, reminding me that I never truly got any sleep, though I wasn’t ever fully conscious either. I was sweating throughout, and coughing regularly. There’s a rash kind of all over my body that I think I’ve probably had for a few days now, but didn’t give much thought to before. I was really hot and chilly at the same time this morning, so I was guessing that I had a fever, but at no point during my shopping did I think to buy myself a thermometer. I first took a shower to clear myself up, but that did no good, so I filled up the tub, and let the steam wrap me up. Then I had to shower again, because that’s what you gotta do. It was a relief while I was in the water, but it didn’t last one second on the bathmat. I knew that I had to do something to actively fix this, so I called my parole officer, who basically ordered me to go to the pharmacy down the street. They have a clinic there for quick visits, which are only meant to give you an idea of what’s wrong. They don’t provide treatment, but they can give you recommendations. They’re quite certain that I have an infection, though they can’t tell me whether it’s bacterial, viral, or parasitic again. They sent my blood to a lab, but that could take time to process, as you can imagine. I don’t have any insurance yet, so I can’t go to a regular doctor, but fortunately, I’m a felon! That means the state has to provide me with minimal medical care. I’m going to the jail an hour and a half early to speak with the medical staff there. We still need to figure out what this means, because regardless of my specific diagnosis, it’s not lookin’ good for me. I’m likely contagious, and can’t be allowed to roam around the general population. The solitary cells aren’t equipped to handle me either. Even if all I need is water and rest, it’s a legal issue to just throw me in a hole, and let me fend for myself. The prison that’s about an hour away has a special medical ward, but I’m really hoping that they don’t make me go there. I know that I won’t really be in prison, but it’s close enough that I don’t want to do it. My parole officer is looking into house arrest options, or just a postponement of my sentence, but they’ve already accommodated me for a lot, so I don’t like my chances.