Today I am going to the hospital to get a blood test, to see if my platelets counts are stable, if not, I'll have to stay at the hospital for a while.
I arrive at the hospital and meet a nurse. Her name is Kendra. She takes me too a room with a chair with a plate of crackers and lemonade on the arm of the chair. It has a stress ball on the other side. I sit down and she explains that she will be drawing my blood out of my forearm. She blots my arm with a disinfecting wipe and slowly puts the needle in I gag at the sight of the blood and squeeze the stress ball in frustration. Kendra removes the needle and stops the bleeding. I wince, "I'm sorry," Kendra says, "it's so we can find out what's wrong with you." She finishes. I nod and sit up in the chair. "I feel light headed..." I say steadying myself on the chair. "That's normal, eat a cracker or two." Kendra says to me as I reach for one. Kendra gets up and helps me stand up, "I'm going to bring this to the lab and you can go in your room until we figure it out." I nod and she nods back at me, I smile.
After a lengthy time period, Kendra comes back with tight lips. "It seems that Rebecca's platelet counts are extremely low and she will need further treatme-" I plummet to the ground, unconscious.
Doctors are rushing around and I'm in a bed with a needle in my wrist; an iv, and my head hurts so much I can't think. Kendra is looking at me, "Thank god you are ok. Sweetie, you have dangerously low platelets level and white blood cell counts and you need treatment. Becca, you have to stay the night. I'm sorry." I nod, holding back tears. I look around and think to myself; this is my new home. That night I didn't sleep.
YOU ARE READING
Sick Kid
Short Story14 year-old Rebecca or Becca Stein has her childhood taken by a brutal bully; cancer. As Becca embarks on her journey she finds love, faith, and what it means to be a sick kid.
