My Perfect Imperfections

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My Perfect Imperfections Page 8

by Jalpa Williby


  Finally, I ask, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “I have never talked about my past to anybody. I don’t want to. And, I never will bring it up again. I didn’t even want to bring up this whole ALS thing with you. I certainly don’t think about it. I’m going to continue living my life, you know?”

  I don’t say anything simply because I have no idea what to say. I can’t even wrap my brain around all this information.

  “First time, I kind of freaked out was when I dropped that glass in your room. Then right now, when my knees just buckled from under me, I was shaken up. Both times, though, I’ve recovered quickly. I feel like myself again.”

  “Are you seeing an ALS specialist?”

  “No, nor do I want to. Just not ready for that bullshit in my life right now.”

  Has he lost his mind? He should be getting some sort of treatment, or at the very least, he should be monitored closely.

  “Listen, Lily. I know I’ve bombarded you with a lot of information right now, but I might as well tell you everything.” Chance takes a deep breath. “I’ve been accepted to Johns Hopkins Medical School. They have one of the top neurology programs in the nation. I think this is my calling. No, scratch that—I know this is my calling. I want to be involved with research. Hey, you never know, maybe I’ll even discover something amazing that can help people like you and me.” Chance chuckles under his breath.

  In the meantime, I try to process this new information he has just thrown at me. What exactly is he saying? Is he leaving?

  “I have accepted, Lily. I’ll leave at the end of the summer.”

  My heart already has broken today from the news of his ALS. Can it break again when there’s nothing left to break? Maybe this is not real. Maybe this is just a horrible nightmare.

  I look around me, trying to remember when I had fallen asleep in my room and started having this dream. Maybe if I give it some time, I’ll wake up. I close my eyes, soaking in everything around me. I can hear the birds singing, the rustling of the leaves from the soft wind, and even the scurrying of a squirrel that must be nearby. Grinding my teeth, I pry my eyes open, hoping to be back in my room. I swallow the lump in my throat when I see Chance staring at me intently, waiting for me to say something.

  “I’d like to go home now.” I don’t know what else to say. Maybe I shouldn’t leave Chance alone. After all, he has just poured his heart out to me about the horrific tragedies in his life. Yet, I don’t want to be near him at the moment. I can’t get hold of my emotions, still in shock with all that he has shared with me.

  Chance inhales a shaky breath. Without saying anything further, he walks toward the parking lot.

  Chapter Twelve

  As I lie in my bed at night, I think about the last year and a half. Chance—one of the strongest people I know—has the mutated gene for ALS. Does that mean he’ll get ALS? Or will he be spared? How fast will this disease progress? The thought of him bound to a wheelchair, unable to take care of himself, breaks my heart. Not him, please God, not him.

  When I remember the tragic ordeal about his parents, a tremor runs up and down my spine. Visualizing Chance helping to take care of his father all those years and then finding his mom’s body shatters me into pieces. I can’t imagine the emotional trauma that he has held inside him all these years.

  And he’s leaving. He’s packing his bags and riding off into the sunset. How can I possibly look out for him? How can he just leave like that? Am I being selfish? He said he needs to do this. I’m not surprised that he has been accepted into Johns Hopkins. The man is brilliant. Why shouldn’t he pursue his dreams? He owes me nothing. Nothing at all.

  Unable to fall asleep, I get up out of my bed and into my wheelchair to research ALS. Although I know it’s a progressive disease, I don’t know much more than that.

  Two hours later, I’m even more depressed. There is no cure. The damn disease affects the motor function. If Chance gets diagnosed with ALS, he will become weaker and weaker until he is completely wheelchair bound and eventually confined to bed. He will be paralyzed and will require total care in everything. Even his muscles for eating will stop working, and he’ll require a g-tube. Eventually, his respiratory muscles will fail, and he will have difficulty with simply breathing. I bite my lower lip hard, drawing blood, as I envision Chance in that position. God, please let there be a mistake. Why him?

  Thinking about life expectancy with people with ALS has my entire body trembling. Most people die within two to five years from the time of the diagnosis. There are very small percentages of people who do live over twenty years after diagnosis. Although there is no cure, there are some medications that can slow down the progressions of ALS. Should he be taking these?

  Tomorrow, we don’t see each other at the college, but he normally stops by in the evenings. Right now, I can’t worry about him leaving. I have to first focus my attention on making sure he’s receiving all the help he needs for ALS. I plan on confronting him tomorrow when he comes over.

  The next day comes and goes. Not only does Chance not come over in the evening, but he doesn’t even text. This is the first time I haven’t heard from him all day in over a year. Should I be worrying about him? Is he okay?

  I debate texting him myself to check on him. Convinced that I’m being paranoid, I decide to wait until the following day when I’ll be seeing him at the college.

  To my disappointment, Chance doesn’t meet me at our usual spot the next day. Worried sick about him, I take deep breaths to try to think rationally. As my anxiety increases, I weigh out my options. Did he attend his classes today?

  I decide to drive toward his next class to see if I can find out if he’s even here. As soon as I turn the corner, I see him immediately. He’s standing with a crowd of students, laughing and talking. Not surprised that he has captured the crowd with his charismatic personality, Chance appears to be everybody’s center of attention.

  Having no desire to go near that crowd, I quickly turn my wheelchair around and drive away. I guess I’ve been worried for no reason because Chance seems absolutely fine. Not only is he fine, he seems to be having a good old time with his friends.

  Confused at why he hasn’t made any effort to see me, I drive to my next class. I purposefully push any thoughts of Chance away because, at this point, nothing makes any sense.

  That night, I wait anxiously for him to either stop by or text me. I stare at my device, willing it to beep as it does when I receive a text. I should text him and just find out what’s going on with him. I just can’t seem to do it, though. I wouldn’t even know what to say.

  Maybe he thinks spending time with me now is useless since he’ll be leaving in a few months anyway. Summer break is almost here, after all. Maybe this is how Chance works. When he’s done, he’s done. After all, he did just pack up and leave his hometown.

  Trying to think rationally, I convince myself that perhaps he simply needs a couple of days to himself. Maybe actually talking about everything has freaked him out. He said he had never shared any of it with anybody. Now that I know, it probably makes it all too real for him. Yes, that must be it. He just needs a few days to himself to sort it all out.

  The few days become an entire week. Chance continues to avoid me. As a matter of fact, I’ve noticed that he purposefully takes different routes to evade me at school. Frustrated, I can’t take it anymore.

  On Tuesday the following week, I wait by his car in the parking lot at the time I know he leaves. Sitting in my wheelchair with my chin up and my lips set in a firm line, I’m determined to confront him.

  When Chance sees me as he approaches his car, he stops in his tracks. Gathering his composure quickly, he starts walking toward me again until he stops right in front of me.

  I look up directly into his eyes, trying to read him. His eyes are guarded, though, and I have no idea what he’s thinking.

  “Are you serious? You’re going to just pretend that we haven’t been friends for the last yea
r and a half? Like we don’t even know each other? Sorry, buddy, but you don’t get off that easily. You owe me an explanation, and it better be a good one. I’ve shared some of my deepest secrets with you. You’ve been my best friend, and I finally permitted myself to trust you. You don’t just get to walk away when you’re done. That’s not how life works, Chance!”

  After staring at me for a few seconds, he says, “You had a lot to say there, Lily. Did you program all that in your device ahead of time?”

  I can’t help but smile. “Yes, last night.”

  Chance laughs. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, Lily. I purposefully stayed away because I just thought that’s what you wanted. After I told you everything, you looked so upset. I wouldn’t blame you one bit. I know it was a lot, and I refuse to bring my burden to you.”

  “Of course, it was a lot! But can I get a minute to think before you jump to conclusions?” I respond.

  “You didn’t even text me. You could have just contacted me. When I didn’t hear from you, I knew I had to do the right thing and stay away from you.” Chance kneels in front of me.

  “You’re a fool.”

  “Yes, I am.” Chance leans toward me and kisses my cheek. “I’ve been miserable this past week without talking to you. Look at us; we’re a mess.”

  “Speak for yourself. I’m not a mess. I know exactly who I am and what I want.”

  Chance smiles. “I guess I’m the messed up one. Can’t argue with that. You’ve always been the stronger one between us.”

  I wouldn’t have agreed to that statement a week ago. Now that I know this new information about him, though, I see that Chance needs more help than he even realizes. He’s not the strong, secure guy that I had thought all this time. He’s lost, confused, and hides from all his problems. The happy-go-lucky Chance that I’ve gotten to know has been merely a facade. Chance is not ready to deal with his past or his future.

  It’s like old times again for the rest of the school year. Chance and I are inseparable. I realize that when Chance can’t deal with something, he likes to ignore it. I’ve learned through the years that this doesn’t work. The best way to deal with something is to face it. It simply won’t go away by avoiding it.

  While Chance and I are hanging out on my back porch one day, I say, “I know what I want for a graduation present from you.”

  “What? I’m broke! What makes you think I was going to give you graduation gift?” Chance teases.

  “Shut up. I only want one thing. Are you listening?” I ask, determined to make him focus.

  “Yes, Miss Cooper. I’m all ears.”

  “I want you to make an appointment with an ALS specialist. I want you to be followed closely from now on. Even when you’re away at medical school and I can’t check on you, I want you to remember. Do it for me. That’s all I want.”

  Chance looks away, staring at the backyard like it’s the best view in the world.

  “Please, Chance. It’s important. Please do it for me. Promise me.”

  When Chance turns toward me, he sees the tears that have gathered in my eyes. Before I can stop myself, a single tear sneaks out. Chance reaches with his fingers and softly caresses it away.

  “Don’t, Lily. I can’t bear it. And okay, I promise. I’ll do it for you.” Chance kisses my cheek.

  “Make an appointment as soon as possible.”

  “Okay! Aren’t you demanding! Anything else?” Chance laughs.

  “That’s all. Thank you.” Okay, I won this battle. It’s a start.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chance is true to his word and starts seeing a specialist. A series of neurological tests are performed, and none of them show any indication that Chance has ALS. Although he does possess the mutated gene, he is asymptomatic. The physician does not diagnose him with the disease. He doesn’t think that the episodes of dropping the glass and knees buckling are related to ALS. The physician feels that we’d see more than a couple of random episodes if he has the disease. However, he is quick to remind Chance that just because he doesn’t have ALS now, it doesn’t mean he won’t have it in the future. The good news is that they will keep a close eye on Chance and continue to monitor him.

  Of course, both Chance and I are ecstatic about the news. Chance also shares that the doctor told him if he’s diagnosed with it in the future, in some rare cases, ALS can be reversible. I share his excitement and his hope. This is what I give him because this is what he needs. However, inside I remain cautiously optimistic.

  When I graduate, knowing Chance is out in the crowd with my parents to support me makes it all even more worthwhile. It feels good to go across the stage to receive my diploma. I had missed my high school graduation since I had no desire to go without Layna. Today is a different day, and I’m proud of my accomplishment of graduating on time with my teaching degree.

  My parents are beside themselves. Mom can’t stop crying; she can barely get a word out. Even my dad is teary-eyed.

  “Darling, you do realize that you’ve made us the proudest parents on this planet, don’t you?” he asks, pulling me into his embrace.

  My smile widens. Actually, I haven’t stopped smiling in the last couple of hours. This is my day and damn it, I’ve worked my butt off for this.

  Mom whispers to me, “Layna would be so proud of you, sweetie. You know that, right?”

  I nod because I know Layna is right here with me. There’s no way she would miss such a big event like this. Of course, she’s here supporting me.

  Chance comes to the house to continue the celebration with us. When we’re alone in my room later, he pulls out a card and hands it to me. “Here’s your graduation gift.”

  “You already gave me a graduation gift.” I remind him of our deal.

  “Here, I’ll open it, smartie!” Once opened, he hands me the card, but keeps the envelope with him.

  The card has a picture of a graduation cap on the front. Inside, I see Chance’s writing.

  Lily,

  Look at you! All grown up and ready to conquer the world! There are no words to describe how I feel right now. You have been my hero from the first day I met you. Thank you for being my best friend, my family, my everything.

  Now, go find a job!

  Love,

  Chance

  I can’t help but laugh at his last sentence. He can never stay serious for too long. I hold my arms open for him for a hug. Chance leans toward me, and I pull him into my arms.

  “Thank you.” This time I use my own words. I know they don’t sound perfect, but Chance knows me well enough to understand what I’m saying to him.

  “You’re welcome,” Chance says. “Oh, and I have one more thing.” His eyes filling with excitement, Chance hands me the envelope. He pulls tickets out and places them in front of me.

  Confused and curious, I squint my eyes to see what it says. They are two first class airline tickets from Michigan to Cancun.

  “I’m taking you to Cancun for your gift, Lily. We’re staying there for a week! I already talked it over with your parents, and I thought maybe we can take your manual, folding wheelchair so it’ll be easier to get around. Your communication device can still attach to it. I’ve researched everything. The resort is handicapped accessible and so are the beaches! We can even use one of their wheelchairs with big wheels that can go right to the ocean! I’m so psyched about this trip!” Chance is rambling with excitement, smiling from ear to ear.

  “Who’s going to help me there?” Staying with him for a week is out of the question. I have to be fed, bathed, and even cleaned up after using the bathroom.

  “Me! I can help you with everything! It’s not a big deal.”

  “But, it’s a big deal to me,” I reply. I don’t want to be upset about this because I know he means well. I can see the enthusiasm in his eyes, but it’s another reminder of our circumstances.

  “Lily, you know that I’m a nurse, right?” Chance teases.

  “But I’m not your patient! I’m not your p
atient! I want you to see me as your equal, not your fragile patient who needs to be taken care of!” By now, I’m furious! How can he not know how I feel? I fight the tears from sneaking out. Quickly turning my wheelchair away from him, I try to put some distance between us.

  Taking a deep breath, Chance says, “I’ve never thought of you as my patient, Lily. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way just now. I’ve always seen you as my equal, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like to take care of you. I like helping you. Why does that make me a bad guy? What’s wrong with me wanting to help someone I care about?”

  “Forget it! You won’t understand!”

  “Try me.”

  “People have to do everything for me. I hate it. It makes me feel dependent, helpless. I don’t want you to see me that way.”

  “One thing you’re not is helpless, Lily. For God’s sake, you just graduated with honors from a very prestigious college!”

  “I need help with basic functions. Putting on clothes, bathing, eating…it sucks, Chance! And I don’t want your help.”

  “Fine, I don’t understand it, but I’ll give in. How about if we have your personal helper come with us? If she’s not available, we’ll find somebody else. Remember, the vacation is for you and me, though. That’s my last week before I leave for medical school. I planned the dates accordingly. I want to have the time of our lives before I have to leave. So your helper is only there to assist you with your needs. That doesn’t mean she goes everywhere we go. Deal?” Chance uses his stern voice, but I catch the smirk he tries to hide.

  “Deal,” I say, smiling smugly.

 

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