To Let Go

Nineteen

I sip on my coffee from the cafe downstairs.

I'm just finishing up my report on a girl, age 11, who was diagnosed with EDNOS. She kept having seizures accompanied by not eating anything for a few days. I was typing in the caloric requirements and whatnot. I hear the door open, and I jump.

"Hi?" I say awkwardly.

"Hello, sorry to bother you!" the nurse smiles sheepishly. "Room 5127 just got filled up. The doctor wants you to speak with the proxy."

"Now?" The nurse nods. "Okay. Thanks, I'll be right there." She exits and I take another sip of my coffee. My eyes droop. And I was just about o go on lunch break. I stand up and get a bit dizzy. I find my bearings, and some assessment forms. Then I push aside the feeling and walk down the halls to the room.

I come to the room, and knock on the door. A deep voice yells come in. I smile as I enter. There is a teenage girl lying on the bed, headphones in. Her tube is full of the white liquid. A man in a military uniform is sitting in the chair by the window.

"Hello, I'm Emma Chota." I come over to the girl who has her headphone out now. "I'm the Eating Disorder specialist here at San Diego. I'm going to talk to your legal guardianabout your nutrition, okay?"

"You're just here to make me fat." The girl says.

"No, I'm here to help you." I never used to believe that they would help me. But they saved my life. They and myself saved my life.

"Oh what bull! You don't even understand."

"I'm so sorry about Layne. She's a bit temperamental." The man says. He turns to me. He's a bit recognizable, but from where, I cannot fathom.

"It's okay. ED patients are often unstable from the out of wack hormones." I say as we step outside.

"So how much does she weigh?"

"82.4 pounds."

"And her vitals?"

"Well, her heart rate isn't doing too well. Labs are dangerously unsafe. She's at very high risk for another cardiac arrest," the man scratches his buzz cut hair, as if deciding what to say. "But you caught this in the early stages. So she'll most likely live a long, happy life after recovery."

"I just don't want to lose my sister."

"Oh, she's your sister?"

"I'm also her proxy."

"Where are the parents of the child?" Nope, not weird at all. Not one bit.

"They live in Bakersfield. Since I'm stationed in the military base close by, they gave me legal guardianship so I can make the medical decisions when they can't." I nod.

"So, what these forms are for is for you to fill out these to help us better understand her mental state and medical history. Fill these out and return them to me. I'm in the room down the hall, in conference room five." I say, and walk away.

It's at the end of the day, around 6 pm, when I get those forms back.

The man knocks on my door, and then walks in and places them on my desk. I stare at them, then glance up at him. He's staring at my name place on the desk in confusion.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yeah, I can't help but notice your name."

"What's wrong with my name?"

"You're Emma Chota."

"Yes, and you are ?"

"Major Leo Roth."

"Oh." I say, the floor drops.

"I thought you were dead."

"I thought you hated me."