Dear Sister, Here's Some Advice

I was in pain; not mental pain, physical. Yes, I know, I also thought my hospital days were over. Apparently, that didn’t mean I never had to go to the hospital ever again. Of course I knew I needed check ups to see if my cancer was staying away, but I really thought that was it. Then, I also happened to be at a hospital when Cam died, but that was different. I never thought that I would be back to be examined because there was something wrong with me, especially since I was still on tour in Canada.

Before you ask: no, I was not stupid enough to fall off stage and break a bone. That wasn’t it at all. I didn’t even get the chance to go up on stage before I had to go to the hospital. As much as I wanted to, everybody else didn’t allow me to. I didn’t want the entire band to have to skip a show just because of me, but it was exactly what happened.

I’ll tell you why I had to go to the hospital literally thirty minutes before we had to go on. Some people might consider it embarrassing, but I consider it me being stupid as hell.

It was two days after I had seen Jack, and everything had been going fine other than me missing him. But then it started. Apparently, we hadn’t taken all the precautions necessary, because I was feeling the horrible side-effects. It was something I hoped to never experience, but the symptoms started in the morning. As soon as I went to the bathroom, the horrific pain started. I could still deal with it then, but over the course of the day it was getting worse and worse.

I’ll be a little more specific and/or graphic for you if my vague explanation doesn’t really tell you anything: It burned every time I went to go pee. There, I said it. Now, don’t go complaining about not wanting to know that information. I tried saying it in a more subtle way before.

So, no, for anybody overanalyzing the last few paragraphs, I wasn’t pregnant.

How would that even make sense? It had only been two days since Jack and I saw each other. Things don’t work that way. Not only wouldn’t I have any symptoms, there was a chance it would take even longer for me to actually become pregnant. So, don’t get your hopes up. That wasn’t going to happen soon... if ever. Jack and I were careful enough on that part. I say enough because of the one time we fucked up in LA, otherwise it would have been fully careful. Simple as that.

I was very good at hiding that something was wrong with me other than the more frequent and longer trips to the bathroom. Nobody realized that the pain got worse and worse every time I went. Maybe it wasn’t a good thing that I was hiding it, since it could have been something serious. But then again, I wasn’t just going to go up to anybody and tell them. How would you even start a conversation like that? Maybe if Jack had been around, I would have straight up told him… or I would have stayed quiet to make sure he wouldn’t get worried. One thing was sure, I definitely wasn’t going to do that to any band member or crew.

I really thought that I could get through it, that the pain would surpass. I even took some painkillers. They helped for a little while, but not well enough to get rid of it completely. I was practically screwed. A small part in me hopes it wouldn’t get any worse and be gone by the next day, but I already knew that that was going to be quite farfetched. At least I was still able to deal with it.

That was until half an hour before the show.

I, like the smart person I was, often went to the bathroom before we went on stage. That way I wouldn’t have any emergencies and have to awkwardly run off. Only, this time it caused more harm than reassurance. If I thought I had been in pain earlier on that day, I was probably dying at that moment. I wouldn’t dare move or do anything, afraid that it would get even worse, and it probably would have. I was too focused on the pain to even panic about being in such terrible pain.

Fortunately, however, some people started to realize it really was taking me much longer than normal. Well, that ‘people’ could be boiled down to just John. He was definitely the mom of the band, but that probably had something to do with him being the only one that was married and had a child. He would look after us all, making sure we didn’t do stupid shit. Let’s just say he was way more reasonable than any of us, and even better at keeping us safe than Colton probably did.

He knocked on the door, not wanting to rudely interrupt, but also not wanting to risk looking over something horrible having happened to me. “Hey, Ireland? Are you still ok in there?”

“No,” I whimpered as I clutched my stomach despite the worst of the pain not being there.

Somehow, John managed to hear me, since he slowly opened the door and slipped inside without taking a peek first. However, when he finally saw me sitting on the toilet, his eyes went wide. He quickly turned away and put his hand back on the door handle.

“Shit, sorry, I thought something was wrong.” He quickly apologized, believing he just walked in on me using the bathroom. Well, he technically had, but you know what I mean.

I wanted to stop him, to have him come and help me, but I couldn’t say anything. Instead, another quiet whine-like sound came out of my throat as tears started stinging my eyes. I didn’t know what to do. There was a high chance that John didn’t either, but it was worth a shot.

“Wait, you’re not ok,” John shook his head when he heard me clearer this time, and turned back to me, “what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered so my voice wouldn’t crack, but a single tear dropping down onto my arm already betrayed me.

He rushed over, crouching in front of me, completely ignoring that I was practically half naked in front of him. He took hold of my hand and gave it a little squeeze to let me know that he was there for me. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” I groaned a little, reaching my empty hand up to my face to wipe away tears that were threatening to spill over as well.

“What hurts? Where does it hurt?”

My face slowly burned red, yet I still mumbled, “when I pee.”

“Ok, no, that’s not good at all,” he sighed, not judging me or laughing at me. If anything, he was really worried and concerned about my well-being. “How long has this been going on?”

“It started this morning, but has been getting worse.”

“Ok, well, I’m taking you to the hospital. I don’t care if you’re going to try to convince me that you can play, because I can tell you’re in pain. No discussion, we are going now.”

I actually didn’t put up a fight and agreed with him. It was better to miss one show than to risk it getting so much worse, leading to us not being able to play multiple shows. I’d beat myself up if I would have waited and something seriously wrong was happening, only to find out that if I had gone to the hospital sooner I could have avoided it all. I knew way better than that.

Not much longer after that, we both came out of the bathroom. Colton and Charlie were already getting ready by helping each other make sure their in-ear monitors were in properly. They only glanced in our direction briefly, only acknowledging that we were there. But they didn’t seem to think to ask if everything was ok. They were too focused on being prepared to go up on stage in a matter of minutes.

“Guys, I’m going to take Ireland to the hospital,” John announced, picking up the car keys that had been thrown on the table by a member of the crew. Somebody drove behind us with a van with a trailer, since we didn’t have enough space otherwise.

John’s comment seemed to get the boys’ attention a lot more. Both looked at me, worry spread across their face. They had frozen in place, still holding wires that they had to hook on themselves. I wasn’t sure if they were worried about me, or worried about not being able to play that day.

“Shit, is everything ok?” Charlie immediately asked.

“We’re going to the hospital, do you think everything is ok?” John answered for me while rolling his eyes. He grabbed both our coats and handed me mine.

“Does this have anything to do with the leukemia?” Carter added on, taking out the in-ears that he had been trying to put in perfectly just a second before.

I shook my head with a little shrug. “I don’t think so, as far as I know.”

“Take her to the hospital and don’t come back until you know what’s wrong,” he insisted and pulled off everything that he had clipped to himself. He knew just as well as anybody else that it meant that we weren’t going to go up on stage. If I wasn’t even going to show that I was against it and wanted to play first, then it was best to just make me go to the hospital.

“That’s the plan.” John nodded and put on his coat, grabbing his wallet and stuffing it into one of his pockets.

I put on my coat as well and picked up my phone. There wasn’t much else for me to do other than be driven somewhere and be examined. I was completely ready to go, and John seemed to be as well. But first we needed to tell somebody who could figure out what to do with us not going up on stage. What was supposed to happen with the time we were going to leave unused?

“Colton!” Carter rushed over to the open door, screaming out the name. Once he was at the open doorway, he repeated the name again, only this time his voice raising multiple pitches at the end in a way a fully straight guy would never do.

“What!” I heard an angry response come from far down the hall

“We can’t play today!” Carter shouted back, not waiting for our (tour) manager to come back. “Ireland needs to go to the hospital!”

“Shit, what’s wrong?” His footsteps turned much quicker and he was in the dressing room with us in no time.

John shrugged, once again helping me out. He didn’t want to tell them anything I was uncomfortable with. “She’s been having some pains.”

“Okay, yeah, take her.” Colton agreed without having to think about the consequences. “Even if it turns out to be nothing, we can’t risk it. No questions asked.”

Everybody in the band had now been drilled to always bring me to the hospital if anything seemed remotely out of order. I wasn’t sure why they were so concerned, but it probably had to do with the horrible months I had not even half a year before. At the stage I was at, the leukemia could still easily come back. Nobody wanted anything bad happening to me.

The loud ruckus that Colton and Carter had caused also caught the attention of a few other people, especially when the word ‘hospital’ had been used. It never meant anything good was going to happen. Plus, the fact that we had to cancel our set so shortly before it started also made some alarm bells ring.

“What’s going on here?” Vic came into the room as well, a slight panic shown in his demeanor.

“John’s taking Ireland to the hospital,” Colton started explaining, seeming very stressed out about the whole situation, “we can’t take any risks with her past. I’m going to figure out what’s going to happen with their set in the ten minutes I have.”

While all the panicking and stressing was unfolding, John decided to pull me out of the room and bring me to the van. Staying at the venue any longer wasn’t going to help us at all. So, out into the cold vehicle it was. John’s phone gave us directions to the nearest emergency room, and we were off.

----

About two hours later, we finally got to leave. First, it took us a little while to be attended to, then all the questioning and testing started. The doctors didn’t want to miss out anything since I had told them that I had just overcome cancer a little while before. Of course, they also had a look at the worst case scenarios in addition to the simple things. That had taken blood tests and a urine sample, but all they probably had needed to get to their end result was my description.

What did it turn out I had? A bladder infection that could be treated with antibiotics. Nothing too weird.

I, of course, had decided to put up everything on Snapchat. For the people who came out to see us and were met with us not being there, I wanted to give some sort of explanation. I didn’t show them much other than taking weird videos of John and taking a couple of selfies when they were taking my blood. But that was all really.

That didn’t mean I didn’t get a call from Jack, who was freaking out, just as we were leaving the emergency room to go pick up the medication I needed. He sent me three texts with no time in between and decided to call me straight after, not having the patience to wait for a response.

“Is everything ok? Do you need me to come over again? Do you need to come back? Should I cancel tour? How serious is it? What’s going on?” He bombarded me with questions as soon as I answered the phone, not even giving me a greeting first.

I sighed out with a little chuckle. “It’s all ok, Jack. There’s no need to freak out. Turns out our date night left me with a bladder infection.”

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, sympathizing with me. “Are you going to be ok?”

“Yeah, I just have to take some antibiotics for a while, and everything should be fine again,” I answered. “John noticed something was wrong and helped me out.”

“Thank god for him.” Jack breathed out in relief.

“That’s the way I’m feeling. This could have gotten so much worse if I let it be.”

“You should stop acting like everything’s ok when it isn’t,” he scolded. I could feel the disappointed look on his face while he was shaking his head.

“I wasn’t acting like it this time. I just wasn’t vocal about it,” I retorted as we got to the pharmacy part of the hospital. The large clock on the wall said that it was getting pretty already, and I know it had to be even later. “Anyway, I need to go get the medicine now. You should go get some sleep.”

“Okay, okay. Call me again tomorrow to update me fully, ok?” He yawned as if on cue. “I love you.”

“Will do, and I love you too.” I ended the call with a smile.

Notes