Valentina Karas
We come to the consensus that Ronan shouldn't get his treatment at Horizons. Part of me regrets not sharing my first experience with that prison with my mom. The last thing she needed was pushback on something that could save her son's life.
Right when we get home, I conduct research on the second hospital. St. Gabriel's Children's Hospital is a twenty minute drive from my house, but the inviting photos on their website quickly outweigh our concerns about the distance. They have the most modern technology and all of the treatments my brother needs. The website also includes comments about the staff's knack for making all of their patients feel like family.
I'm about to present this research to my family when I hear yelling from their room. Although they sometimes don't see eye to eye, I can count on one hand the number of arguments I've heard from them. This is the first one that has involved yelling. It isn't my intention to be nosy, but I hear everything said through the paper thin walls.
"Tim, you have to believe me! I know what I heard." Mom chokes on a sob as she tries to get her point across.
"I never said I didn't believe you, ok?" Dad retorts. "Everyone has bad days. There's no use judging an amazing medical facility based on one experience."
"But, Tim, this is about Ronan's well-being. A bad day for them could mean a nightmare for our son," Mom insists, the concern for her son evident in her voice. The weight of their son's battle with leukemia hangs heavy in the air, intensifying the stakes of the conversation.
"Taking a tour, let alone leaving our son there is an awful idea. Leukemia is hard enough on him. He doesn't deserve to be in that environment." Her voice carries a mix of frustration and fear.
"Ok, you win. He's not doing his chemo there."
Mom is probably grateful that Dad sees her point of view. "Then what do you have against St. Gabriel's?"
"Nothing, Shania. You need to consider how far away we live." Dad responds, attempting to bring a practical perspective into the emotionally charged discussion.
"What are you saying? You want your own son to be miserable for convenience's sake?" I feel the weight of her accusation from the next room.
Dad is horrified at Mom's suggestion. "You know you're wrong for saying that, honey. It's just so far away from our jobs."
"That's a minor sacrifice. It's a good hospital, Tim," Mom asserts, hoping to emphasize the potential benefits of going with St. Gabriel's for Ronan's treatment.
"I guess that's one we can make. Besides, he'll be there for weeks on end," Dad concedes, acknowledging the practicality of Mom's suggestion given the prolonged nature of Ronan's treatment.
"I'm so glad you see what I'm saying," Mom says, a note of relief in her voice. "When we're not able to get Ronan where he needs to be, why don't we ask Valentina for help?"
"Why her? She deserves to enjoy her senior year," Dad questions, expressing concern for my well-being. I'm not exactly sure when I got roped into this, but both of my parents know my answer.
"I'm not saying turn her into our slave, Tim. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to do that for her brother when we can't," Mom suggests.
My parents' argument gives me a revelation. These circumstances impact me just as much as they impact my parents and brother. I know Ronan needs my support, but there will be a few trade-offs in the process. I just hope my friends and teachers continue to be understanding.
I would love to interrupt their argument and tell them that I'm happy to help them out, but something stops me. Instead, I knock on my brother's door. I don't know what makes me suddenly want to spend time with him over Katelyn or Layla.
YOU ARE READING
a dance with cancer
Spiritual"you fought it hard like an army guy remember i leaned in and whispered to you?" -taylor swift