Love, But Never by Josie Leigh

Marissa’s stomach was now relentless.  She practiced deep breathing techniques she learned from the one yoga class she attempted, but she still felt like her insides were being ripped apart.  She tried hard to stand at attention, but the overwhelming need to double over was proving to be too great. 
    She felt overheated, though Marissa was almost positive that had more to do with the Northern Illinois summer humidity and the fact that she was wearing military issue sweatpants and a sweatshirt.  She felt her body start to sway.  Luckily, her shipmates surrounding her helped her to stay upright.  They were marching from the mess hall toward their barracks for the night when they stopped to allow another company to pass them.
                  “Come on, Masterson, you can do this,” one of her shipmates whispered beside her.  On the last syllable, another jolt of pain rocketed through Marissa’s abdomen and she fell to her knees in a crumpled heap before anyone could catch her.  She closed her eyes tightly and gripped her sweatshirt, panting.
                  “Petty Officer!” her shipmate yelled from behind her in formation as Marissa’s stomach started to heave and empty on the gravel coated walkway.
                  Marissa tried to focus on the man coming up beside her to yell at her to return to attention, but everything started to go black as she felt the Petty Officer catch her head before it hit the ground.
                  “Call a medic!” was the last thing Marissa heard before she succumbed to the blackness and numbness settled over the pain.
                  When Marissa came to, she was hooked up to an IV and was staring into the fluorescent lights flickering above her.
                  “How are you feeling?” a nurse beside her asked, pulling the curtain around her bed for privacy.  She assumed she was in the base hospital because the nurse was in a military uniform.
                  “I’m not sure.  I’m itchy, but I don’t hurt as badly as I did before,” Marissa found her voice to be rough in her ears.  “I’m thirsty.” She tried to clear her throat.
                  “That’s to be expected, we’ve got you on some pain killers and some fluids for dehydration.  Also, we’ve taken you back for an upper and lower GI series while you were out.  The doctor should be in any moment to explain the results,” the nurse started to take her vitals and make notes on a chart.  Marissa looked at the ceiling tiles as the blood pressure cuff on her arm started to tighten.
                  “Hey!  You are back with us!” A man, Marissa assumed was her doctor, came around the curtain with a reassuring smile on his face.  Marissa smiled weakly in return.  “Well, the GI series and blood work were pretty conclusive, but we have to run one more test to be 100% positive,” he started. 
    Marissa just blinked up at him from her bed, her mind numb from the pain killers.
                  “We’ll have to fast for the rest of the day, and take you for a scope tomorrow, but I’m almost positive you have Crohn’s Disease.  A pretty severe case, too, to be able to identify it before a scope,” he explained as if his words had significant meaning to her.
                  “I have what?” she asked, slowly.
                  “Crohn’s.  It’s a disease of your intestinal tract.  Not fun to have.  We’ll try to get you stabilized here after we confirm the diagnosis and get you started on some medications, and then we’ll send you over to separations,” the doctor continued.
                  “Separations?” Marissa whispered, tears springing to her eyes.
                  “Of course!  You aren’t healthy enough to continue with basic training.  You’ll need to get home and find a gastroenterologist to get you on the