Out Through the in Door by Ed Hilow

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    THE TEST
     
     
     
                  The latest issue of Archeological Times held little interest for Mika. If it had been House Beautiful or Martha Stewart Living it would have stood a better chance. In all the years he'd come to Dr. Brennan's office, there was never much of a  reading selection. The torn off corner or redacted address label  was the only clue that they were recycled from someone's home to the office. It was bad enough having to wait. Having to read dry, out-of-date magazines only made it worse.
              The waiting room was uninteresting – spartan. Beige wallpaper, generic furniture, and too much light for such a small space. It felt more like a holding cell. The glass partition separating the receptionist completed the look.
              Mika was in for a follow-up visit and his test results. He felt eyes on him but the only other person in the room was fiddling with his cell phone. Despite this fact, the feelings of being watched gripped him. He looked at the clock. The wait was unbearable.
              When he got sick he had to leave his job and go out on disability. He was collecting unemployment but at a fraction of his pay. Eli, his partner, had taken a part time-job in addition to his full-time one to compensate. The bills were getting paid, but they were barely getting by. 
              Mika's convalescence was slow. As he recovered he began to feel trapped. Eli was militant about frivolous spending. No  more exotic vacations, fancy dinners out or expensive shopping sprees. The payment on the Mercedes was almost as much as the mortgage. Eli's suggestion that they turn it in almost gave Mika a heart attack – just the thought of driving a lesser car.
              Going from having whatever he wanted to living within a budget was a tough adjustment for Mika. What bothered him more was that Eli didn't seem to care. He seemed content with less and Mika was, for the most part, dependent upon his partner for survival. 
              The receptionist called Mika to the window and handed him some paperwork. He sat back down and started filling it out. He was frustrated trying to remember dates, doctors' names and medications. He had already seen two specialists in the last month because his recovery was taking far longer than normal.
              Despite all the testing, none of the doctors could tell him why. Further tests were ordered. Waiting two weeks had been difficult enough but now that he was here he wished he was any place else.
              Dr. Brennan finally appeared at the door and called him in. She was an  attractive older woman. Short, light brown hair framed her face and the small round glasses emphasized her rounded face. She wore no makeup which along with the white smock drew attention to her plain nature.
              Her office was as bland as the lobby with the exception of a colorful painting on the wall behind her desk. Her desk  was a mess – covered in magazines, files and paper. She rummaged through the disorder as she talked.               When she found Mika's file, she scanned the pages. “I received the test results. We were looking for anything that would explain why your recovery has been so delayed. Turns out your immune system has been compromised.”
              Mika's pounding heart filled his ears.  
              “You're positive for HIV,” she went on.
              The doctor's words fell away. For a moment Mika was removed from reality.
              “Mika? Mika?” The doctor touched his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
              He looked at her blankly. Behind his eyes the emotions threatened to erupt. Sadness, fear, regret all churned underneath, but he held them