AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Instead, I had no one and nothing except an anxiety attack hurling me into a deep, dark spiral I couldn’t stop.
I wish I had never found out.
"Well, what are my options? What kind of treatment can we start on? Some kind of medication?"
"You have a few options," Dr. Kozol said.
As he went through treatment after treatment, my stomach constricted with fear and the world around me faded away. Information circled my head, all revolving around my dreams. Side effects. The risk of growing sicker. Sitting out the rest of the season—possibly for good.
"What's next?" I interrupted him. Tears were threatening to c
limb but I wouldn't let them. I refused to have come this far, and be this close to my dream, just to have it yanked away. I wouldn’t go down without a fight. "These won't work with my schedule. I can't afford to be out like that."
"Quite frankly, there is no next option."
My lungs struggled for air as anger infused my blood. That wasn't acceptable to me. "There can't only be two options."
"Unfortunately since this was detected so late, your options are limited. Until you find a match, you really only have one choice."
Unacceptable. I'd have to get a second opinion. Both treatments required too much from me, or they would make me extremely ill and I refused to deal with that. Medicine had come a long way. There was no way I would make time for either option if it put my gymnastics career in jeopardy. Surely a few more months wouldn't make that big of a difference. And, if I was forced to have the life sucked out of me, it would be from something that I loved, not sitting in a chilly hospital bed watching my dreams pass me by.
"You only get one life, Adrianna. Chose it wisely."
I rolled my lips between my teeth and considered what he said. "What if we hold off on treatment for a couple of months?" I asked, holding my ground. "That would be okay, right? Just a few months?"
Dr. Kozol and Dr. DeLang looked at each other for a long moment, their faces grim. I knew the answer before he even said it. Still, I wasn't ready for it. My chest tightened, fearing pushing its way in at the unknown. My lungs struggled for air, and I swallowed hard, waiting for a response.
"I don't recommend that. In fact, I'm highly against it." Dr. Kozol stared at me without judgment. "There is not one medical professional who would agree with that."
Breathing heavily, I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "I'm going to wait. I'll be fine."
I pulled my shoulders back. Dr. Kozol leaned forward and his voice dropped. "This is very serious. You're extremely ill and need to seek treatment. This isn't playing guinea pig to see which medication will help you. You don't have that luxury." He paused, his voice firm. "Your kidneys are failing." He stated it slowly, like I hadn't heard him the first time. He became a blurry vision as silent tears rolled down my cheeks. "It's not a matter of if you will die, but a matter of when you will die. This needs to be your first priority."
I shook my head, my lips a thin, flat line. Dr. Kozol sat back while Dr. DeLang wrote in my file. She reached for the phone next and started dialing, probably calling my dad. But so what, there wasn't a soul on earth who could change my mind. Not my dad. Not Kova. No one was going to take this away from me.
My love for gymnastics is what drove me, what gave me the out I needed to express who I was. I wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet, not when I’d only just gotten started.
Like the roaring thunder in the distance I could hear headed toward me, I felt the water level building, curling, the impending wave that would no doubt drown me. The pressure was already too great and it was growing by the second. Just thinking about what lay ahead for me sent an all-consuming wave of sadness over me. I'd come too far.
And the thing was, I wasn't going to try to stop it. Not yet at least, because the timing wasn't right, and timing was everything.
I would risk it all to achieve my dream.
Even if it killed me.
* * *
To be continued...
Turn for a preview of
Hold On to Me
by Lucia Franco
Prologue
Hospitals are always such frigidly, sad places. The happy pictures mounted on the walls with lake side images representing happy days full of sunshine and fun were nothing but a lie. Cold, leather blue chairs connected at the legs took up most of the space in the waiting room. A muted television hung in the corner, subtitles running across the lower screen. Fake smiles dazzled the nurses’ faces when they made eye contact, but he could see right through them. It was such a deceiving environment that it made his skin itch.
