by B. A. Wolfe
“Mom, can you please just stand still?” I squinted while massaging my head that ached from her pacing.
She stopped and twisted around. “I’m sorry. I just can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner,” she said, moving her hand to her chest, close to her heart. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner. What kind of nurse and mother doesn’t realize her son is ill?” Her voice shook.
I hated my mom being so upset. “It’s not your fault. I hid it from you.”
“No, Jason. No. I wasn’t focused on you. I was focused on your,” she paused, her eyes pooling with tears, “damn brother, and this is what happens. I should’ve—”
“Stop it, please!” She never used profanity. Never.
God. Between the nerves that rolled in my stomach and the tears that were trickling down her cheeks, I didn’t think I was going to be able to sit in the room a second longer. She couldn’t blame this on anyone but me.
“It’s my fault. Stop blaming yourself and Dan.” I tapped my sternum. “I did this, okay?” My strong voice faded as she glared at me.
“No, Jason, I won’t stop. Just promise me one thing?” She raised a lone finger.
She’d never understand that I was trying to man-up so we could focus on more important things. I just never thought it would lead us here.
“What?” My voice was meek, defeated.
“You won’t hide something like this from me or your father ever again.” If it was possible, the brown in her eyes turned dark, like coal. She was furious and I felt guiltier than ever.
I nodded. I was so worried about not being a burden and there I was, the biggest burden of all. “Never again, Mom.”
“Thank you.” With a sigh, her dark irises returned to their normal honey color. “I’m sure this isn’t anything serious but, Jason, I’m your mom. All I ever want in life is to help and be there for my kids. Trust me from now on.”
“I get it, Mom. I just didn’t want to be another thing to have to worry about, but look where that got us.” I laughed, nervously.
“This isn’t funny.”
My mom was a nurse, which meant she was that mom. The one that could sense a cold coming before you even sneezed or sniffled. The one who made us wash our hands twenty million times a day, and you didn’t even want to get me started on the stories she’d tell us.
“I’m not amused, believe me. I just don’t know what else to say or do right now.” And I didn’t. I peered around the small hospital room. The white walls, the maroon chair in the corner where my mom’s handbag sat, and of course, the wooden door that remained closed.
My mom didn’t say a peep. She stood next to me with her hand tightly clasping mine, like she knew the situation we were in better than anyone.
I hung out at the hospital enough to know how things worked. For some reason, this experience was different than just another take-your-son-to-work day. I was the one sitting nervous as hell on the crunchy white-papered bed.
“W-what do they think it is?” I asked, breaking the deafening silence.
She stared at the floor as a heavy sigh expelled from her frowned lips. “Well, it could be a urinary tract infection, a bad one. Or even a kidney stone. All are fixable, Jason.”
“Okay,” I replied, holding onto her hand like she was my lifeline. She was my mom and I trusted her, and I should have from the beginning. My insides gnawed at me, though. Did I wait too long to say something?
Moments later, Dr. Mathews stepped inside the room with a clipboard in hand and a puzzled expression on his wrinkled face. “We’d like to do an ultrasound on Jason.”
“Why?” My mother’s strong voice belied her sweaty hand holding mine.
“His urine sample came back with traces of blood and protein,” he paused, “which is cause for concern.”
Concern?
She cleared her throat. “Y-yes. Of course. Do what you need to do.” Her fingers tightened around my palm.
I nodded, hiding my panic inside. I thought Mom said this was all fixable? If possible, I was even more scared.
Before I realized it, an ultrasound machine was wheeled in and I was stripping off my t-shirt. The nurse, Dr. Mathews, and Mom gathered around me as he gently ran the wand over my tender back while I laid on my stomach.
The worst was that I couldn’t see anything. I only had an inclination of the way it was going based on the way Mom held my hand, which grew tighter the longer the ultrasound took.
“What is it, Dr. Mathews?” Mom asked.
He turned the screen toward me and pointed to a few nugget-sized circles. “These are cysts on his kidneys.”
Mom gasped and I remained stunned in silence. And not the stunned one would want.
“What does that mean?” Mom’s frantic voice pierced my ears.
He flipped the images back toward him and removed the wand from my skin. “Jason, go ahead and put your shirt back on. I’ll be back to discuss this in a few moments. Okay?”
“Okay,” I muttered, easing up from my stomach.
Grabbing his clipboard, he said, “Trish, we’ll be right back.”
The machine was rolled away and the room shrunk in size. Mom and I sat in a small box full of unanswered questions, the silence suffocating as I pulled my shirt over my head and waited, my mother by my side once again.
What felt like hours was only minutes as Dr. Mathews returned. His wrinkled face appeared even more aged if that were possible. Silently, he rolled a short stool over and sank down on it, taking time to eye each of us.
“We know that the ultrasound showed quite a few cysts on his kidneys, Trish.” He fiddled with the card in his hand. “It wouldn’t concern me so much if there weren’t so many of them and they weren’t painful for Jason.”
I gulped, my pulse racing and my lungs pumping a little harder.
“W-what is it?” Mom asked, her face losing color.
Dr. Mathews handed her a small white card. “I’ve called Dr. Burke at Prairie Medical. He specializes in pediatric urology and I would like for you to go meet with him. Honestly, Trish, I’d feel more comfortable if Jason were to see someone who specializes in this type of thing.”
“Okay,” she whispered, staring at the card.
He wheeled closer to us and offered a small smile. “They’ll take good care of you over there. I’ve already spoken to him, and my nurse is sending him reports of the ultrasound. He’s expecting your call.”
Mom nodded, her voice mute.
A heavy hand landed on my knee and I peered up at Dr. Mathews. “Don’t worry, Jason. They’ll figure this out.”
“Thanks.” I hoped so.
As Mom and I shuffled out of the room, I couldn’t stop focusing on the floor, counting each tile until my mind stopped replaying everything that had happened in the room behind us.
“How about bacon and eggs tonight?” I kept counting, focusing on the brown tiles that were placed every fourth one. She wrapped her clammy hand around mine and I sighed, peering up at her. A weak smile crossed her face. “Maybe a round of Scrabble? We haven’t played that in a long time.” My mom’s fake chipper voice only fueled what I felt inside—fear.
Four
WE KNEW IT WAS MY KIDNEYS. What we didn’t know was how severe the problem was, what caused it, and what my options were. Basically, all the scary stuff you’d want to know right away but couldn’t because of testing.
With more blood tests, which even included some from my mom and dad, and multiple scans, an even worse knot resided in my stomach after the two weeks it took to do it all.
Saying that I was nervous was an understatement. Especially because the doctor wanted to meet with us in person instead of giving me the results over the phone. Which meant one of two things: It was good news and he was really eager to celebrate with us, or it was really bad and he wanted us sitting down while he told us. The knot twisting my intestines knew better than to bank on the first option.
And of course, Mom was already treating me as if I was differ
ent. As if I was a patient instead of her son. She made me breakfast, which was my favorite meal, more times than I could count, and even taught me how to cook it. We were also playing endless games of Scrabble. They weren’t doing these things because it was fun, they were trying to make the world around me perfect so I didn’t have to think otherwise, which was worse.
She released my hand, not saying another word. I peered around the office. It was large, which meant staring at more blinding white surfaces. A row of diplomas and certificates lined the wall behind a long, glass desk with Dr. Burke’s name on it. And then of course there were the two hard, leather chairs that Mom and I sat in, directly in front of the doctor’s desk. I shifted my attention to the door with a steel-colored knob.
My brother and dad waited outside. My mom’s request. If I had to guess, Dan had probably already worn a path through the floor. His pacing got the best of him in stressful situations. But this wasn’t right. I hated that the door separated me and my family.
I turned in my seat toward my mom. “I want them in here.”
She tilted her head, a few of her curls falling out of place. “Are you sure?”
Was she kidding? “Yeah. I need them.” I hated that my brother and dad, my heroes, were outside. I needed them here.
A tight-lipped smile formed across her face and she nodded. “They need you too. We all do. I love you, Jason. You know that right?” And here it came. I tightened my jaw and prepared myself. “Whatever the doctor tells us, you’re my baby and I’ll do anything and everything to make it better, to make it go away.” There was that word again. Something told me it wouldn’t be so simple.
“Mom—”
“Shhh.” She held a finger between us. “I’ll never stop protecting you. I just—I had to tell you that.” Her mouth pressed together and her finger went to her lips.
“T-thank you,” I told her, voice strangled.
She walked to the door and within seconds, my pale-faced brother stood behind me and my quiet father next to me. I thought it would make me stronger, but truth was, I couldn’t even look at them anymore. My heroes looked broken.
This was harder than I thought. So instead, I focused on the whites of my knuckles as I held my own shaking hands in my lap.
Ten excruciating minutes later, the doctor arrived. Dr. Burke wasn’t like Dr. Mathews. He wore a frown and was definitely more reserved than the doctors back in Keaton. But he said he’d stop at nothing until he figured out what was wrong with me. And for that reason alone, I liked him.
“With the tests we ran and the initial findings from Dr. Mathews, I think we finally figured out what’s been the culprit behind Jason’s pain and his kidneys...” He continued on and it didn’t take long after his words started pouring out for my brain to cloud over and his fateful diagnosis to sink in. “The cysts are caused by a genetic kidney disease”—at the word disease, blood rushed through my ears and I only heard bits and pieces after that—” progressing quickly . . . no cure . . . kidneys are failing . . . blood tests we took . . . came from your side, Bart.”
His mouth continuously moved. He spewed out result after result and information that I didn’t have to go to med school to understand. He could use big words and statistics all he wanted, but the truth was, the only word I heard was failing. My own organs, my kidneys, failing me.
Failing.
The room and noises faded in and out as I unclasped my numb hands. My chest constricted, a tight band squeezing my heart as I fought to hold back the cries.
What’s going to happen to me?
My arm shook and my name was said. I glanced next to me. My mom’s eyes were red. Her fingers gripped my arm with all her might as she continuously repeated my name. I swallowed back the lump and forced the tears from breaking. I couldn’t cry here. Not in front of my family.
I took my mother’s trembling hand and held it as tightly as possible. My dad’s bold shoulders hung low as he placed his palm on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, over and over again. He was blaming himself because of his family’s health.
My chest caved at his words. Was I blaming the chromosome he gave me for this unfortunate fate I’d been delivered? I didn’t know what I was thinking, but blame wasn’t it. Knowing my family was scared beyond belief was on my mind. Knowing I had kidneys inside me that weren’t functioning like they should was weighing down my thoughts. Not blame.
“I shouldn’t have been so hard on you, son.” Tears trailed down my dad’s face. He dropped his chin to his chest and my heart sank. He couldn’t do that to himself.
“Dad . . . please.” That was all I could get out before my jaw tightened.
Another hand squeezed my other shoulder. Dan. I couldn’t look at my big brother—my role model, my best friend…Batman —and witness his eyes full of sadness. That’d be the push that broke the tears I was so hell bent on holding back, but I couldn’t not respond to my brother.
I put my hand on top of his. As soon as I did, a loud sob escaped his throat. His hand left and within seconds his arms were around me, holding me as he wept into my shoulder.
I caved.
My chin fell to my chest and I sobbed with my family. I let the words kidney failure sink deep into my soul, and I knew from that moment forward, my life would never be the same.
Bad things happen.
I just didn’t think they’d happen to my family, let alone . . . me.
Five
A WEEK LATER, I FINALLY got the courage to talk to my best friend, TJ. Telling him that I had kidney failure was easier than I thought. He had questions and I told him what I knew, which wasn’t much because we were still trying to figure everything out, but he took it well. He told me he’d do whatever I needed. And I told him, all I needed was my best friend to still be my best friend. He laughed and was about to slug my shoulder when he stopped himself, and we agreed that we’d stop the rough-housing for now.
What I hadn’t expected was the reaction I got from Anna. Ten minutes went by and she didn’t said a word. I told her everything I knew and didn’t hold back a single detail. She just sat there. I took us to my favorite spot under the tree, next to the library they were getting ready to close.
Swallowing past the nervous lump in my throat, I plucked a few pieces of grass and playfully tossed them at Anna. “What are you thinking about?” I asked, needing a response. She didn’t even give so much as an “oh my God,” which was her response to almost everything.
She brushed the grass off her lap and finally glanced at me. “Honestly?” She narrowed her gaze and I nodded, wanting to know what she was keeping from me. “I really don’t know what to think right now.” Her shoulders shrugged. “I’m confused.”
Me too.
I slipped my hand over hers, trying to comfort her. “I’ll tell you everything I know, or at least try to. It’s a lot to take in.” My voice fell with each word.
She stole her hand back, and started chewing on a nail.
The wind blew and a stray hair flew into her eye. I reached for it, gently tucking it behind her ear. “I wish you’d talk to me.”
A few beats later, she dropped her finger from her lips. “I guess, I’m concerned that you, like, want a kidney from me or something. I mean, Jason, I’m too young for a surgery like that. I have a future to think about. I can’t just give you an organ. What if I need it?”
What?
My brows pulled together. “I would never ask you for anything like that.” I wasn’t sure whether to laugh, or to cringe from the slap she’d just hit me with.
“Thank God! I was so scared.” She puffed out a long, relieved breath, her cheeks deflating in the process. “Jason, you’ll be fine. I mean you look great.”
“I don’t feel great,” I muttered, completely blindsided by the conversation. Maybe she was too young to understand. I thought I was, but I guessed because it was my life I had to pay better attention to what was going on.
“Well, I think you look the same. And hones
tly, what does this change?”
My whole life. “Nothing really,” I said, dismissing it. Why was I so hurt by her reaction? It was like she didn’t care . . . but that’s what I had wanted right? To be treated like a normal guy who wasn’t sick and still had all of his teenage years ahead of him like everyone else.
“Let’s get out of here. I hate sitting in the grass.” She stood, brushing green blades off her jeans. “Do you wanna go see what my sister’s doing? Maybe she can take us to the mall.” Her whole demeanor had changed completely. The happy, grinning Anna that I knew was back.
I shook my head. “You go ahead. Shopping isn’t my thing, you know that. I think I’ll stay here.”
“Jason!” She stomped the already flattened grass and reached out for me.
I threw my head back and laughed. “No way. I’m not going shopping. You go ahead. I’m fine here.”
With a frown, she bent down, kissed my cheek, and took off down the street.
I eased back onto the soft grass, folded my hands behind my head, and relaxed. My mind began to wonder to the what ifs. Getting my driver’s license, missing out on sports, even though I knew I wasn’t athletic—all the things I was excited for about high school and growing up. The wind blew and the blades of grass that I had tossed at Anna floated back over me. It was nice outside, quiet, and the weather was perfect. I stopped pondering over the stuff I couldn’t control and realized I wanted to enjoy more of the same kind of moments.
How many more would I get?
I definitely wasn’t wasting it on shopping. It would have to take something really special to get me to go the mall.
Six
IT WAS ONLY HALFWAY THROUGH the school year, late winter, when my kidneys were functioning at less than ten percent. They brought in a dialysis machine and a home health nurse for me until they could find a kidney. Things had clearly gotten worse and while that was on everyone’s mind, the only thing on mine was my brother. His scholarship letter remained untouched on the kitchen table for days.
