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Ilya - ergies | Part 1
Ilya bounced down the stairs, hearing the sounds of Shane making his traditional green smoothie for breakfast. His husband stood at the kitchen island cutting up a very yellow fruit and adding it to the blender. "Morning," Ilya said, wrapping his arms around Shane's waist and kissing his cheek. "What is today's smoothie?"
"I bought some fresh mango from the market yesterday. Perfect to add to my smoothie."
Ilya made a face. "I've never had it." "Really?" Ilya shrugged.
"Here." Shane handed him a small piece. "Just try it."
Ilya cautiously put the fruit into his mouth and chewed. He shuddered and licked his lips. "Spicy."
"What? It isn't spicy."
Ilya grabbed Shane's cup of water and took a drink. "Yes, spicy." Ilya kissed Shane to silence his protests. He popped one air pod into his ear and then the other. "Going for run. Be back soon. Enjoy spicy mango."
Shane's words were drowned out as Ilya headed out into the humid weather, glancing up at the grey clouds.
Ilya picked a steady pace and started his morning route. He wished he'd brought his water bottle as the flavor from the mango coated his mouth and created a fuzzy texture. Bleh. Of the bird food that Shane enjoyed, this had to be the worst so far. His feet pounded against the pavement as he increased speed. Ilya swallowed at the irritation in his throat, but the fuzzy feeling remained. His breath started to feel tight, like a band wrapping around his ribs. Ilya stopped for the stoplight.
He kept his feet moving as he rubbed at his sides. It didn't relieve the tightness. Ilya took out one of his air pods. His breathing didn't sound right. There was a distinct whistling sound. Ilya bent over and tried to draw in a big breath but found that he couldn't. His lips felt tight. Fuck. Ilya forced in a breath and started towards the nearest building.
"Welcome to McDonald's, what can I get started for you?" a familiar bubbly voice asked as Ilya pushed the doors open and stumbled slightly as he headed to the counter.
His vision blurred the bright red and yellow colors mixing together.
"Ah, Mister Rozanov, here for your McGriddle?"
Ilya shook his head, trying to focus on the woman's face. He opened his mouth to speak, but only succeeded in wheezing.
Sparkly spots formed in his vision. Ilya reached for the counter to steady himself as the edges of his vision turned light gray and darker as they closed in. He didn't recall hitting the floor. A voice screamed for someone to call 9-1-1. Ilya's last thought was that at least a McGriddle wouldn't hurt him like a mango.
Ilya - ergies | Part 2
Talia watched as the muscular hockey player, who she really only knew by name, his McGriddle order, and his routine of coming in after a long run, collapsed onto the floor. Shit. She flew around the counter, yelling for someone to call 9-1-1. Her fingers found the quick pulse on his wrist. Okay, at least he was alive. Talia gave him a once over. His lips were too red and swollen. She could hear his loud wheezing. "Does anyone have an epi-pen?"
"I do," came a timid voice. A mom with a small 3-year-old boy ran from the back. "It's a child dose for my son, but that's better than nothing." She pulled the green epi-pen from her purse.
"Thanks." Talia yanked off the blue cap. Taking a deep breath, she swung back and stabbed the orange end into the man's thigh. One. Two. Three. She released the pen and started to rub the medicine into his leg.
"Ambulance is on the way," said a bystander.
Good. Talia held her breath. Come on dude, wake up.
🏒
Ilya felt warmth radiating from his body and his heart raced. He took a shaky breath and opened his eyes. The room spun and he quickly closed them again. He was relieved that he could breathe a little easier but his chest still felt tight.
"Can you hear me?" a female voice asked.
Ilya opened his mouth to speak but coughed harshly, fighting to get more air in. His throat was still too tight. He attempted to sit up, but a firm hand held him down. Opening his eyes, he saw a familiar face.
Her name is Talia, his mind supplied.
"Don't try to move. An ambulance is on the way," she said in a soothing voice.
Shane. He needed to call Shane to tell him that he was okay.... no fuck. He wasn't okay. Ilya needed him. A sob formed in his throat, which didn't help the breathing situation. Ilya raised a shaking hand to his face in an attempt to wipe his eyes.
Talia was quicker. She gently wiped the tears away before anyone could see him.
Ilya fumbled for his pocket, needing his phone.
"You're okay," the woman murmured.
Ilya found her brown eyes and tried to communicate with her. He needed her to understand that he needed his husband. Ilya tried to speak, but the tightness was increasing again. He attempted to clear his throat and only succeeded in coughing so hard that his vision swam. Distantly the sound of sirens could be heard.
Two paramedics came into the restaurant, carrying their medical bags and pushing a gurney. Ilya grabbed Talia's arm and mimed writing something.
"Hi, my name is James and this is my partner, Whitney. We're gonna take care of you." The man addressed Talia. "Do you know what happened?" he asked as he started to hook Ilya up to monitors.
An oxygen mask pressed to Ilya's face. He grabbed at it, desperately trying to draw in more oxygen. He mimed writing again. Talia ran to the counter and returned with a pen and receipt paper. Ilya slowly wrote down Shane's number. All of those years seeing it next to the name Jane and he had memorized it.
The paramedics worked quickly and loaded him up onto the gurney. Ilya passed the paper to Talia and finally managed to gasp "Shane" before lapsing into a coughing fit that didn't end. Urgently they loaded Ilya up into the ambulance. His last view of the restaurant was Talia putting the company phone to her ear.
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Shane lounged on the sofa, sipping his smoothie and reading his book. Ilya would be back from his run pretty soon. Practice started in two hours. He flipped the next page, adjusting his glasses as they slipped on his nose. His phone buzzed next to him. Shane frowned at the caller ID. McDonald's was calling him. A part of him wanted to silence the call, but something in his gut told him to answer. "Hello?"
"Hi," said a female voice. "I'm sorry, but is this Shane?"
"Yes."
Nausea rose as he listened to her next words.
"I'm calling from the McDonald's on 5th street. There's been an emergency. He gave me your number."
Shane gasped softly. "Ilya."
Ilya - ergies | Part 3
Ilya breathed in the medicated air, which was easing the pain and tightness in his chest. An IV above his left wrist pumped fluids and two medications into his body. The paramedics had administered a second (adult sized dose) of epinephrine in the ambulance. The second time hurt a lot worse since Ilya was conscious for it. His free hand, which clutched his phone, trembled on top of the blanket. There were fourteen missed calls from Shane.
Ilya had finally been able to send him a text message once they settled him in the emergency department. Shane was on his way to the hospital. Ilya coughed and wished he had his toothbrush. Right after arriving at the hospital, he'd thrown up all over himself. The taste almost made the mango flavor worse. His phone lit up with a text message. Ilya had to type his password in twice, expecting a message from Shane. Instead it was from Yuna.
[Shane called. Sending all our love. Will call later.]
Ilya smiled at the message.
There was a knock on the sliding door and a nurse stuck her head in. "I found something that belongs to you."
Shane ducked around the nurse.
Immediately, Ilya reached for him as the nurse closed the door to give them some privacy. He imagined he looked a sight. His curls sweaty and sticking to his forehead, his lips swollen, an oxygen mask, and a bright red rash visible on his chest around the irritating hospital gown. "Shane," Ilya whispered in relief.
"Fuck, you scared me," Shane murmured, rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Ilya.
"Bet-ter now." Ilya shivered in his husband's arms, cursing the after effects of the adrenaline.
Shane sat down in the beside chair. He held onto Ilya's hand with one hand and brushed his curls back with the other, soothing him and calming himself with the familiar motion. "Has a doctor been in to figure out what happened?"
"Yes and no." Ilya took a deep breath, ignoring the burn of the medicine. "They stabilized me. Then lady took health card information. Doctor used big words." He sighed. "Couldn't understand." His English and Russian mixed in his disoriented, exhausted brain. The doctor's French accent hadn't helped.
Shane kissed his forehead. "That's okay. I'm here now. I can find out what happened."
Before he could leave the room, there was another knock on the door. Ilya recognized the doctor from earlier.
"Hello Mister Rozanov. Are you feeling better?"
"Ilya," Shane corrected. "Hi, I'm his husband, Shane. What happened?"
"It appears that Ilya had a severe allergic reaction, causing anaphylaxis. A lady administered epinephrine on location, though it was a small dose. A second dose was given in the ambulance. We've stabilized him with an antihistamine, corticosteroid, and fluids." The doctor checked the digital chart in his hand. "Were you exposed to or ingest anything new?"
Shane paled.
"What?" Ilya asked. He'd not followed what the doctor said.
"Mango. You tasted my mango and you said you'd never had it before." Shane looked down at their clasped hands. "Could that be the cause?"
"Very possible. We can do some testing to confirm, but it is possible that you are highly allergic to mangos."
Ilya coughed again, feeling utterly spent. "Okay. What happens now?"
"If the testing confirms, we can set you up with an epi-pen to carry in case of another exposure."
Shane spoke quickly to the doctor as Ilya closed his eyes. The words were lost as he fought to stay awake. Ilya heard the door open and close a minute later as the doctor left.
"Your bird food tried to kill me." Ilya opened his eyes, giving his husband an annoyed look.
Shane flushed. "I'm so, so sorry."
Ilya raised one hand to stop him. "Not your fault. Didn't know I'm allergic. Never eating that again." He let out a little laugh. "Never."
Ilya knew his husband would feel guilty and worry. He removed the oxygen mask and gently kissed Shane's fingers. "I forgive you. Though not your fault."
"I love you."
"Love you too."
They sat in comfortable silence, with the only sound being the heart monitor beeping. Shane squeezed Ilya's fingers. They'd have to stay a few hours to make sure there wasn't a secondary reaction. Ilya closed his eyes again to rest. Shane assumed he'd fallen asleep until he spoke softly.
"McDonald's never tried to kill me. It saved me."
Shane grinned. "Fuck you. I'm never gonna live that down."
Ilya slowly opened his eyes again. "Nope. Can have McDonald's for breakfast every day now."
"Ha! You already stop every time after your run. The cashier knows you by name."
Ilya frowned. "You know?"
"It's not a secret. You throw the wrappers on top of the outside trash. I've seen them.
Ilya shrugged, but gave his husband a soft smile. "Still never tried to kill me."
Shane squeezed his hand. "Go to sleep. We can talk about it when you get home and I throw out all those mangos."
Ilya pulled on Shane's hand and motioned for him to lie next to him. Shane rolled his eyes, but carefully lay down on the bed, wrapping his arms around his husband as he drifted to sleep.
Three days later, once Ilya felt up to it, they both went to McDonald's to thank Talia for her quick thinking and saving his life. Turns out she had a friend with a severe allergy and learned via video to use an epi-pen, just in case. Never thought she'd have to use it on a famous hockey player on the floor of a McDonald's, but she did. Ilya was incredibly grateful she did. Said he'd only ever buy McGriddles from her.