The Secrets We Keep

Bianca: Dreadful, Horrible, Terrible News

When I finally woke up, it was 11:00.  I sat frozen.  For the first time in almost 4 years I was late for school.  I wanted to call out to my Mom and tell her to rush me to school, or anything about going to school, but of course, I couldn't.  What a stupid no speaking rule I had forced upon myself. 

I started jumping up and down to get my mom's attention.  As I suspected, she came running.

"Oh Bianca, what is it?" She asked in an exasperated sigh.  Her shoulders came forward in a slouch, and she collapsed on my bed.  "Just tell me.  With your words."

Tears bubbled in my eyes.  Was my mom, the one who had risked her left arm to save a mouse, the one who called off her own college graduation for a week to adopt a dog in the Bahamas, talking sarcastic to me?  Trying not to let it get to me, I pointed to my calendar, which had the word school written in most boxes.

She groaned.  "Sweetie, did you really think you were going to school today?"  She got up.  "Instead, we're going to the doctor."  She looked at me in a way that said: Just-Deal-With-It.

I crossed my arms in denial.  The last time I had been to the doctor, it was because I jammed my toe and it was purple for 5 days.  The doctor had ended up "accidentally" breaking my entire foot, and I couldn't do anything for 4 months.  He was evil.

"No, we're not going to Dr. Restonza," she confirmed, shivering at his name. "We will be going to Dr. Minstronni!" She beamed at me. "Yes, she is the one your Beatrice's dad recommended. Apparently, she loves her."

I nodded in agreement. Beatrice told me that after a few minutes with her, all of her worries had mysteriously disappeared, and she was cured of strep throat in no time. My mom left me to get ready for the doctor.

******************

"Hello Bianca," Dr. Minstronni welcomed me cheerfully. It seemed like a rainbow followed her like her very own shadow. "Today I will be your doctor." She grinned. Not the I-Will-Murder-You grin, it was more of a Glad-You-Can-Make-It grin.

I waved in return. If only I could talk to her, I thought to myself. I could, but did I really want just to speak to a doctor? How would that make my family and friends feel?

"She doesn't really talk anymore," my mom explained, rubbing my back. "But anyway, I was wondering how you should and I should, for that matter, take care of Bianca. She's my little angel, so I hope she gets better." She turned my around so that I faced the door. "Do you see that lump in her head. By golly it's as large as a bee's nest," she rambled on to Dr. Minstronni.

Surprisingly, she wasn't bothered. "Don't worry. That bee's nest will be gone in only 2 days at the most." She flashed us a smile. With that, she motioned for me to sit down.

Dr. Minstronni put pressure on my lump. It felt like I was chained up while the devil threw extremely well sharpened darts at my head. With each little push, it was almost like my head would explode. I whipped her hand away and turned to glare at her. I thought she wouldn't make me cry, wouldn't make me feel pain. Such a betrayer, I thought to myself angrily.

"I know why it hurts so much," she concluded. "I think, well, I know that a huge puss ball has formed where she hit her head. It will just have to be surgically removed, so the sooner, the better." She turned to my mom, with a clipboard and pen ready in her arms. "What date would be good for you?"

"How about this Saturday?" My mom offered.

"Okay, how about 2:00-3:00," Dr. Minstronni replied. She sounded professional.

As I was watching their exchange from the corner, I could only think one thing: I am going to get surgery.