“But it’s not a hundred percent.”
“No treatment is ever one hundred percent.”
Jurgis interrupted. “Don’t forget to tell him about the food.”
Catherine nodded at the old man and then glanced at Erik. “My grandfather was only half-joking about that being your last meal. For the next few days you’ll be on a very restricted diet. You can have all the blood you need but you’ll get no solid food until the worst of the nausea is past. We can’t risk you becoming dehydrated.”
An angry blue jay protested their intrusion into its territory by letting go a series of angry squawks. Erik turned his head toward the source of the racket and let his imagination dance to an image of himself lying on a cold stainless steel table and vomiting onto the cold tile floor below. He winced at the thought of doing that in front of this woman.
“Your grandfather said I’ll be sedated in the beginning?”
“Yes.” She flicked a loose strand of her black hair back over her shoulder. “The first couple of days are always horrible,” she said, “and, to be blunt, it’s safer for us and for you if you will allow us to sedate you for the first several hours.”