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When Nick boarded the tour bus in Tampa headed for Canada, he knew that it was going to be a miserable trip. Since he was newly single and didn’t have a travel companion other than his bus driver until he met up with his bodyguard and “posse” in Toronto, he expected the loneliness, but he never anticipated this. “Tom, man, you’re going to have to pull over,” he groaned, placing his hand gingerly over his stomach as he made his way to the front of the bus. The driver widened his eyes in surprise and quickly obliged. Nick ran down the bus steps and made it outside just in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the grass. The same events repeated about ten times before Nick begrudgingly retreated to the bus lavatory. There were only so many places that a large tour bus was able to pull over along a busy interstate, and they were losing time. He hadn’t been this sick in years, and as the hours ticked on, he starting to think this was the sickest he’d ever been. After about twelve hours of being violently ill, he was really wishing that Annie had given him her number. He had a show in Toronto in less than two days, and at this rate, he was pretty sure he was going to die before he got there. A doctor’s opinion would have been nice to have at the moment.

“Hey, Nick! You doing okay in there?” He hadn’t even noticed that the bus had stopped. At least he hoped the bus was stopped, because someone was knocking on the bathroom door and Tom, his driver, was the only other person on the bus. Though, when he thought about it, he still kind of felt like the bus was moving.

He tried to speak, but nothing came out. So he licked his dry lips, cleared his throat, and managed to croak out an “I’m fine.” Then he heaved into the toilet again. The lavatory door swung open and Tom stared down sympathetically at the over six foot tall man curled uncomfortably into the tiny space on the floor with his head resting on the toilet seat.

“You’re not fine. You’ve been in here all night!”

Nick looked up at him and swallowed hard. “It’s just a stomach bug. Hopefully, it’ll be over soon. What time is it anyway?”

“Just after five.”

“In the morning?!”

“Like I said, you’ve been in here all night.”

“I need to hydrate,” Nick declared. He flushed the toilet and attempted to get up, but with the combination of his head spinning coupled with the fact that he was trying to stand up from a space that his body didn’t particularly fit in, he failed miserably. Then he tried again with the same result. “Um, Tom? I really hate to ask, but...”
Tom, who was about the same height as Nick, but packing a few more pounds around the middle, place one foot in the bus restroom and stooped down, then placed his arms under Nick’s armpits and hoisted him up. “Go to your bed, and I’ll get you some water. You know, if you give this to me, it’s you who’s going to be driving the bus.” Nick laughed weakly and turned to splash some water on his face and wash his hands, leaning on the edge of the sink to steady himself first. As he was drying his hands, Tom returned with a bottle of water. He took it from him gratefully, opened it, embarrassed at how hard he had to work to break the lid away from the ring securing it to the top of the bottle, and took a small sip, hoping his stomach wouldn’t protest.

“Where are we, anyway?”

“About twenty miles north of Knoxville.” Nick nodded and started towards the bedroom in the back of the bus. His feet felt like blocks of lead, and the lightheadedness was getting worse with every step he took. He paused and placed his hand on the carpeted wall, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to stop the room from spinning.

“You going to make it?” Tom asked from the doorway.

“Yeah,” Nick replied shakily. “Maybe I just need some sleep.”

Tom sighed. “Well, let me know if you need anything. I’m going to get back on the road.” Nick climbed into his bed and took a swig of his water before lying down. He knew he was getting dehydrated. His body felt like it did when he’d just completed an intense workout, multiplied by ten. He prayed that he would be able to keep the water down, but when the bus lurched forward, so did his stomach, and seconds later, he was back in the bathroom.

He must have fallen asleep eventually, because the next thing he knew, he was feeling a sense of deja-vu, his driver standing in the doorway and looking down at him sympathetically. “We’re in the parking lot of a hospital somewhere in Kentucky just a little ways off I-75. You’re going to go in and get checked out while I go have the bus cleaned. No offense, but it stinks, and like I said before, I don’t want what you have.”

“You’re right. I probably do need to get checked out at this point. At least get some meds to help with the nausea.” Nick nodded, and with a little help from Tom, managed to stumble to his feet and off the bus. Once he got him inside to the emergency department registration area, Tom took off, leaving Nick on a hard, plastic chair with a pen and clipboard in his hands. As he attempted to focus and fill out insurance information, he felt an all too familiar wave of nausea wash over him, and stood to ask the receptionist where the restroom was. Then everything went black.

When he came to, his head was throbbing, and a tall, balding man with glasses, probably just a few years older than himself, was hovering just above his face. “Welcome back, Nick,” he said warmly, but with an edge of concern in his voice.

“You know who I am?” He attempted to sit up, but the man placed a hand on his shoulder and eased him back down.

“Take it easy. You gave us quite a scare out there.” Nick looked around and realized that he was no longer on the waiting room floor, but on a stretcher in a curtained exam room. “Yes, Mr. Carter, I know who you are. What I don’t know is why you’ve passed out in my litte ER here in Podunk, Kentucky.” He held out his gloved hand for Nick to shake it. “I’m Doctor Francis.”