“The growth turned out to be exactly what I hoped it would be,” he explains to me. “An acoustic neuroma.” He explains how that’s a nonmalignant sheath of cells that sometimes surrounds the cranial nerve. “We don’t know what causes the growth exactly, but it does cause vertigo and hinders a person’s balance. This growth was larger than average. I could see the size of it on the MRI, and I was concerned that it had moved into the seventh cranial nerve. That would’ve changed the prognosis considerably.”
“But it didn’t go that far,” his wife tells me. “Your mother should have a full and complete recovery.”
“You said nonmalignant?” I repeat. “So that means she doesn’t need radiation or chemotherapy?”
“That’s right. She just needs some time to rest and recover from her surgery.” Dr. Hoffman puts her hand on my shoulder. “So do you.”
“Thank you!” I exclaim as I hug her. “Thank you for everything!”
She smiles at her husband. “It was his hands that did it.”
“Thank you so much!” I tell him. But I’m thinking it was God’s hands too.
“I’m pleased we had such a positive outcome. I was prepared for something with complications,” he admits. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
“How long until I can see Mom?” I ask Dr. Hoffman.
“She’ll stay in ICU for several hours to be sure there’s no swelling and to monitor her vitals.” She checks her watch. “If there are no problems, she should be back in her room around 3:00, I’d guess.”
“How long will she be in the hospital?” I ask.
“It depends on a number of things, but you should count on four to five days at the minimum.”
“Okay.” I nod. “Thanks again.”
“Glad we could help. And not to diminish my husband’s role in this, because in my book he is the tops, but I feel like there was a miracle at work here today.”
“Why’s that?”
“Like Mitch said, the size of the tumor on the MRI looked much larger than the one he removed. Yet we know he got all of it. It was as if the tumor had shrunk since her scan.”
“Is that possible?”
She smiles. “With God all things are possible, right?”
“Right.” I nod eagerly.
“Now I need to get back to the office.”
After she leaves I turn back to my family, who are looking somewhat bewildered. “It is good news?” Dawdi asks me with concern in his eyes.
“Very good news.” I explain Mom’s prognosis to them as best I can using simple terms. “Dr. Hoffman told me that she thinks it was a real miracle.” I describe the unexplainable shrinking of the growth. “If it had been bigger like they expected, there would have been serious problems. As it is, it sounds like she will be fine.”
“It is an answer to prayer,” Mammi declares.
“Ja,” Dawdi says. “Thanks be to God.”
We all hug, and everyone seems happy and relieved. But I can tell they’re uncomfortable—so far out of their comfort zone. Being here like this has probably stretched them more than I know. “I understand if you need to go now,” I say.
“Ja, that is true,” Dawdi tells me. “There is work to be done for sure.”
“We must get back to our chores,” Uncle Ben chimes in.
“But your mamm will still be in our prayers,” Rachel assures me.
“Will you come back and stay with us?” Mammi asks.
I tell her how I plan to stay with Betty, explaining how close her home is to the hospital so that I can easily visit my mom. I’m not sure, but I think she is relieved.
“You know you are always welcome,” Dawdi tells me.
I nod. “Yes, I do know that.”
“We will leave your bed in the spare room,” he says.
Once again, I thank them all for coming, saying how much it meant to me to have them here. Then I watch in wonder as the four of them walk toward the elevator. They look so out of place, like characters torn out of a history book. Yet they are my family. And I feel blessed to have them.
24
After a few days of staying at Betty’s place, I feel like a normal English girl again. Okay, I recognize that thinking of myself as “English” means I’m still under the influence of the Amish—but maybe that’s a good thing.
Most of my time’s been spent at the hospital with my mom. At first she looked so frail and pale, with her head bandaged up and dark shadows beneath her eyes, that I was concerned that she wasn’t really doing well. By the second day, though, she was able to sit up in bed and eat and drink with no dizziness. And by the third day, she was up and walking around the hospital.
I’m so happy for her progress. It’s almost like she’s her old self again, except that she’s weak and still has headaches. The doctor says that’s normal after the kind of surgery she had. Plus she still needs to sleep a lot, but it’s much less than before. While she’s resting, I reintroduce myself to the internet and have conversations with Merenda. I’ve also been in touch with Mrs. Wimple. Our dear old neighbor has been back from her cruise for some time now. She was worried we’d never come home.
Dr. Hoffman has been working with Mom’s pain meds, helping her to get off of the diazepam, which she’d clearly become addicted to. Fortunately, without the dizziness and nausea, Mom realizes that she doesn’t need the diazepam anymore. And the new pain pills aren’t addictive.
By the following week Mom’s headaches are gone and she is restless to get out of here. I think it’s mostly because of her concern about finances. I can’t say I blame her. I’ve heard how expensive hospitals are. I can’t even imagine the whopper of a bill we’ll get at checkout time.
“I think we can sign you out today,” Dr. Hoffman tells my mom on Wednesday morning.
“Really?” Mom looks uncertain but hopeful. “To go home?”
“Well, I’m not sure about making the trip all the way to Indianapolis yet. Plus we need to do some follow-up visits.” Dr. Hoffman glances at me. “Did you tell her about Betty’s suggestion?”
“Betty offered to let us both stay with her for a few days,” I explain to Mom. “Until you get strong enough to go home. Otherwise we can go back to Mammi and Dawdi. It’s your choice.”
Mom slowly nods. “Betty’s place might be best. Do you think so, Shannon?”
“Yeah,” I assure her. “I think it’ll be more comfortable for you.”
“And you’ll be in town for your follow-up appointments,” Dr. Hoffman points out.
“Okay. Betty’s it is.” Mom gives Dr. Hoffman a nervous smile. “I know I’ll need to settle my bill with you and your husband and the hospital before we leave. I wish I still had insurance, or that I could afford to pay everything all at once. Especially considering how you folks have handed my life back to me.” She sighs. “But that’s simply not possible. I hope we can arrange payments.”
“Your bill with my husband and me is already settled,” Dr. Hoffman informs her.
“Wh-what?” Mom stares at her. “How?”
“It’s just something we do once in a while.” Dr. Hoffman smiles at me. “In very special cases.”
Tears fill Mom’s eyes. “I—I don’t even know what to—”
“Not only that, but I’ve spoken to the hospital administrator, and she’s agreed to reduce your bill here significantly.”
“I’m so grateful. And amazed. How can I ever thank you?”
“Just take good care of yourself, and”—Dr. Hoffman points to me—“take good care of this girl too. I’m not sure what her plans for college are, but I happen to think she’d make a fine doctor.”
I smile. “I guess I’ll have to sign up for some AP science classes in the fall.”
She pats my back. “Just keep your options open, Shannon.”
After a week at Betty’s, my mom seems almost as strong as before she got sick. She insists on helping with cooking and cleaning, and we take three walks a day. Considering how she was two weeks ago, it really
feels like a miracle. Both the Drs. Hoffman have given her the green light to go home. On Thursday we buy our tickets for a bus that’s scheduled to leave on Saturday.
“Do you want to go see your parents again?” I ask her Thursday evening. “We might be able to get a ride from Leah.”
Mom’s brow creases as if she’s unsure. “Well, maybe that’s a good idea, Shannon. Anyway, I’m sure they’d like to see you again.”
I’ve already told Mom about how our relatives came to the hospital during her surgery, but she’s certain that was for my sake, not hers. It’s possible she’s right. After all, I’m fully aware of the whole shunning business and how seriously they take it. All the same, it seems like a healthy thing for her to see her parents before we go home. It might be good for them to see her whole and well again. So I call Leah.
I can tell my mom is nervous, but I try to act calm as Leah drives us to the dawdi house on Friday afternoon. The plan is to visit with our relatives for an hour. Leah has brought a book and says she doesn’t mind waiting. Naturally, Mammi is surprised to see us, but I can tell by her eyes she is happy. Even though she doesn’t say a lot to Mom, I can tell she’s relieved that she’s well. She sends me out to get Dawdi so he can see her too, and I find him in the barn with Uncle Ben. While both of them go inside to visit with my mom, I dash over to say one last good-bye to Rachel.
Aunt Katrina doesn’t seem terribly glad to see me, but I guess it might have more to do with how I’m dressed than anything personal. Since I’ve been wearing my own clothes this past week, I nearly forgot about all that. But seeing her grim expression is a vivid reminder of Amish propriety.
Once again, I thank my aunt for the time I spent in her home, and I tell her that Mom is better. “It was a real miracle,” I explain. “Even the doctors said so. I know it’s because so many people were praying for her.” I start to thank her for praying but then am unsure whether or not she did. “Thankfully, God was listening.”
“Ja. God is always listening,” she says in a polite but chilly tone.
“Anyway, I wanted to tell you good-bye—and thanks.”
“Rachel is in the garden if you would like to tell her good-bye.”
I go outside to find a barefooted Rachel down on her knees, staking up bushy tomato plants, but as soon as she sees me she leaps to her feet and comes over to hug me.
“I’m so glad to see you again. How’s your mamm?”
I tell her of Mom’s progress, and Rachel seems genuinely happy.
“That is good to hear. I have been praying for her every day.”
“Thanks! She’s well enough that we can go home tomorrow,” I explain. “I just wanted to tell you good-bye first.”
“Thank you,” she says with real gratitude. “I am going to miss you so much, Shannon.”
I nod. “I know. It’s like you’re my real cousin.”
She laughs. “I am your real cousin. And so are my brothers and my sister. And all your other cousins too.”
“Yeah, but I feel like I have a bigger connection with you. And for someone like me—I mean, having no family—that means a lot.”
“Will you write me letters?” she asks hopefully. “To let me know how you’re doing?”
“Is that allowed?”
“Ja. I do not think there’s a rule against writing letters.”
“Okay,” I agree. “I’ll get your address from Mammi and I’ll write.”
“I will write you back. I can tell you about when Ezra and I get baptized. And when we get married.”
“I would love to hear about it. I wish I could come to your wedding.”
“You do?” She seems honestly surprised. “I guess you can if you want to, Shannon. I think it’ll be in the autumn time, after harvest.”
I imagine myself in my English clothes, sticking out like a sore thumb at Rachel’s wedding. “Well, it’s a long ways to come, and I’ll probably be in school then. Maybe I can send you a wedding gift.”
She brightens. “That would be wonderful.”
I hug her again. “I’m so glad that it’s all worked out between you and Ezra. I hope you’re really happy together.”
She looks uncertain. “There are no hard feelings?”
I consider this. “No,” I answer honestly. “I think Ezra was more of an escape for me. Like I told you, I’m sure I was in love with love. The truth is, I didn’t really get to know Ezra that well, or I made myself believe he was something he wasn’t. Mostly I think I wanted to run away from my own life. I know now that I can’t do that. It’s like trying to run away from God. Everywhere you turn, there he is.”
“For an English girl, you have spirituality.”
I laugh. “Yeah, and for an Amish girl, you are—well, you are very cool.”
Now she laughs. I tell her I’d better get back to the dawdi house. As I hurry back to my grandparents’ tiny house, I know what I told Rachel is absolutely true. I was trying to run away from everything—all I wanted was an escape, and I believed that Ezra could give it to me. I know better now.
It’s surprisingly hard telling Mammi, Dawdi, and Uncle Ben good-bye. I guess I didn’t realize how much I really do love them. I mean, for a short while I felt like I hated them, or more likely that they hated me. Now I can tell that although it’s an awkward relationship and they have difficulty showing it, they do love and care about us.
“Come and visit us again if you like,” Uncle Ben tells me as he’s leaving.
“I just might do that,” I say.
“Ja,” Mammi chimes in. “You can come and visit, Shannon.” She gives Mom an uncertain look. “You can too.”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” my mom assures her. We all hug, and it’s time to be on our way.
“That wasn’t so bad.” Mom lets out a loud sigh once we’re in Leah’s minivan. “They’re not so bad either. Not really.”
“No, they’re not bad at all, Mom. Just different.”
“That is for sure,” Leah adds in a philosophical tone. “But that is exactly how they want to be—different.”
We’ve been home for a week and school starts up on Monday. Mrs. Wimple couldn’t believe the difference in Mom’s health, but when I told her it was a miracle, she nodded. “My sister and I were praying for you,” she told Mom. “I should’ve known you’d be all right.”
On the Sunday before school starts, I am sitting with Merenda in the park near the apartments. She got home from her dad’s last night, and we’re soaking up some sun next to the fountains and catching up. At her insistence, I’ve told her all about my brief “love affair” with Ezra. Although she got swept away in the “romance” of it all initially, she eventually comes to the same conclusion I did.
“You must’ve been temporarily insane,” she declares.
I laugh. “Yeah, I think there was definitely a little craziness involved.”
“To think you could marry an Amish guy and become Amish and never go back to school and just stay there cleaning house and having children?” She shakes her head. “That is unbelievably insane.”
“Maybe . . . but you know what? I don’t even regret it.”
“Of course you don’t regret it—you said Ezra was a hottie and a good kisser,” she teases. “But even so.”
I playfully punch her. “It’s not because of that.”
“What then?”
“Well, like I already told you, I was ready for an escape this summer. Remember how I wanted freedom and independence? For a while it seemed like Ezra was the key to all that.”
“Becoming Amish is freedom and independence?” She frowns. “I seriously don’t think so, Shannon.”
“But at the time it felt like Ezra got me away from everything, including myself. He also distracted me from Mom’s troubles. Then because of my interest in Ezra, I was compelled to become Amish for a while. I mean, I wasn’t truly Amish because I never got baptized or anything. It’s like I was obsessed with it, though. I tried it on for size. And I think that was a
good thing.”
“Why?” She looks confused as she squints into the sun.
“Because playing Amish forced me to take a good hard look at God. It made me see that as much as I was trying to escape my own life, I was trying to escape him too. I had been doing that for about a year.”
A look of realization crosses her face. “Yeah, I’d noticed.”
“But I don’t feel like that anymore,” I declare. “Instead of escaping God, I feel like I want to run directly toward him now.”
“That’s cool.”
“Yeah.” I nod happily. “It is cool.” Just then a big yellow butterfly flutters down and gracefully lands on my ankle. I stare in silent amazement, barely moving as I point it out to Merenda.
“Shannon,” she whispers with wide eyes. “Remember the tattoo you wanted?”
I grin. “Yeah. I guess I don’t really need it now.” As I sit here watching that beautiful creature, I realize that this is like God’s tattoo. Except that his mark on my life is going to be a whole lot more than just skin deep.
Melody Carlson is the award-winning author of over two hundred books, including The Jerk Magnet, The Best Friend, The Prom Queen, Double Take, A Simple Song, and the Diary of a Teenage Girl series. Melody recently received a Romantic Times Career Achievement Award in the inspirational market for her books. She and her husband live in central Oregon. For more information about Melody, visit her website at www.melodycarlson.com.
Books by Melody Carlson
* * *
A Simple Song
Devotions for Real Life
Double Take
Just Another Girl
Anything but Normal
Never Been Kissed
Allison O’Brian on Her Own—Volume 1
Allison O’Brian on Her Own—Volume 2
LIFE AT KINGSTON HIGH
The Jerk Magnet
The Best Friend
The Prom Queen
THE DATING GAMES
The Dating Games #1: First Date
My Amish Boyfriend Page 21
