A Fight to Remember

Out of Africa

A/N: For continuity sake, and to make it easier for me, the McKids are all two years apart- so keep that in mind. This chapter features Zola.  Zola is twenty-three. I know a lot of fans of Grey's like the idea of Zola being a surgeon. In this world where Derek didn't die in a car accident, I think Zola was relieved of much of the pressure to aspire to be like her parents. Here, I think her compassion and empathy are much more highlighted. In my universe, she was never considered 'Gifted.' But she is an unbelievably hard worker. Here, she is a nurse, training to be a nurse practitioner.

Enjoy!

Zola

Feburary 28 2034

You think you can handle it. You grow up with all this... confidence. And you say to the world, 'bring it on, I can take it... But sometimes we forget that the world is unpredictable. And the next thing you know, your whole life is upside down. Then what do you do?

Heat. Heat baked the ground and caused it to crack in thin lines like a broken eggshell. Heat, a dry uncomfortable heat that did not relent even when the wind blew, because the wind was hot like a blowdryer in your face. I was a chicken being spun in a rotisserie, except there was no more moisture left in my body.

It was noon, in Bedele, Ethiopia. I sucked the last drop of water from my water bottle as I lay back on the cot in my tent. We were waiting. Waiting for the men to come back from the well. They had been drilling for two days, but as always, this was Africa, and nothing ever went as planned here.

A shadow appeared in the doorway and I heard a shuffle of sandled feet. I opened one eye to view my visitor. "Dr. Stanley?" What was he doing here? Of course, he was my friend and mentor here at the clinic, but he never entered my tent.

He looked at me over his glasses, the dark skin on his forehead wrinkling. "Zola, you have a call." That got my attention. I usually called home once every week or so, even if it was just to leave a video message for my mom. I just called her a few days ago and everything seemed fine.

"My mom?" I asked.

"She says she is your aunt."

I shot up out of the cot. "What? What did she say?" I slipped on my sandals.

"She is waiting to speak to you." Dr. Stanley said as I tore past him and dashed to the clinic. I burst through the main doors and scrambled down the hall to Stanley's office. On his desk was a tablet, I touched the screen and came face to face with my Aunt Maggie.

"Maggie," I gasped, out of breath.

"Zola," Maggie's face wrinkled in concern. "Are you okay? You look-"

"It's nothing," I panted. "Just out of breath, I ran here."

"Oh, okay," she said, "So how are you?"

I was too worried to deal with pleasantries. Why, of all people, was Maggie calling me? "Why are you calling me?"

Maggie let out a long breath. "Don't tell your mother I called..."

"What? What is it?"

"She's sick, Zo.

"Sick? How sick? Is she in the hospital?"

"No, no... Physically, she's fine but... it's been confirmed. She's been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimers Disease."

Maggie's words swirled around me. Alzheimers. For a moment, my world stopped. It wasn't a surprise, not really. Mom had talked about it before- she had actually done extensive research and even spearheaded developments on treating and curing the disease. She had even written a book. But now? So soon? We thought it wouldn't happen for a long time, or that it wouldn't happen at all. Of course, now everything made sense. Lately when I had spoken to her, she had seemed off a little. She kept asking me who Dr. Stanley was- even though I mentioned him multiple times. She had even met him before. Sometimes she would repeat things that she had just told me only a few minutes ago. Once, when we were having a argument, she called me Maggie before telling me to 'shove it.' Which she had would never say to her own daughter. Adopted or not.