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ne is different and only time will tell." He tipped his head and bore his eyes into mine. I felt like I was about to get yelled at from my dad. "Make sure you take it easy and don't overdo it. If you're postponing the transplant surgery, then you need to treat your body like a temple during this time."
"Okay." It was all I could say. I swallowed, though my throat was dry. That was a lot of time to sit and do nothing while my body was cramping up.
"Take the nausea pills I prescribed you since we know they already work. You'll have nausea most of the time, and drugs will be given to hopefully prevent flare ups. Your blood pressure will likely dip. That’ll be monitored so you don't pass out from not being able to catch your breath from something as simple as carrying groceries to doing a light jog."
That worried me. I already had a hard time catching my breath, which he was aware of. Now I was going to need to be extra cautious that I didn’t pass out and hit my head and die in my new apartment alone.
"She'll be taking a year off from sports to work on her health," Dad said to Dr. Kozol, then he turned to me. I told him I would take a year off. That didn't mean I actually would. I was estimating six months, at most. "Your priority is your health. Nothing else. There should be no reason for you to exert yourself. All you have to do is get up and go to treatment. That's it."
I nodded vehemently. Dad was right, and I had to remind myself that I had a very strong and solid support system. He was making it possible so that I wouldn't have to worry about anything except my health and attending the few classes I was taking.
Dr. Kozol continued. "Some people will either gain or lose a substantial amount of weight, so watch for that. Some patients claim they have newfound energy after dialysis starts. No two patients are the same. Log your symptoms in a journal so you can track how you’re feeling." He looked at Dad. "If you want to have a driver on the back burner for her, it wouldn't be a bad idea. Occasionally there've been patients who are too physically tired to drive after.
Of course, Dad loved the idea and said he'd set something up just in case.
I thanked Dr. Kozol and apologized to him for all the times I had been difficult. He chuckled and said he liked the medical challenge I brought to his desk. He also added that I probably aged him ten years while I was under his care.
My future wasn't going to be pretty for a bit, but one day it would be again. I was confident that it would be, even if the only thing I had to look forward to wouldn't start for about eight months or so. I wouldn't give up sports completely, it just wasn't possible. However, I would be smart about my decisions. Light jogging maybe, and some light weights. No actual gym, though. No Motrin, nothing that could hold me back. I only wanted to go forward from here. Moving to a new town alone would be a challenge too, but I was a little excited about that. I wasn't sure how I was going to handle everything on my own in the beginning, yet I knew exactly what I had to do in order to live.
I was going to live. I had to for me. I hadn’t achieved my dream of Olympic glory only to give up now.
Forty-Seven
Like every other night of my last week here, Dad and Sophia brought over takeout.
They made sure it was food I could eat on my special diet. Dinner was really the only meal I ate since I slept most of the day, so I made sure to eat everything they brought over.
"Did I bring enough boxes?" Dad asked, taking the last bite of his steak.
After we ended with Dr. Kozol, my dad picked up boxes then dropped me off at my condo. He was flying out in a few days to negotiate a new business deal, and Sophia was going with him.
They both planned to meet me in Oklahoma two days after I arrived to help me get settled and go to my first doctor’s appointment. Dad had insisted that Sophia stay and be there for me after he left until I got used to the side effects of the treatment, but I wanted to do it on my own. It was something I needed to do on my own. Maybe she could stay a few days, but that was it.
"Yes, I have plenty. I should be able to have this place packed up in a couple days with a day or two to run last-minute errands."
"How have you been feeling…otherwise?" Dad asked, dragging out his question uncomfortably. I watched his eyes do a quick sweep across my body and I knew what he meant by that. "Every time I see you, you look like you're hardly sleeping."
Though the part of my life that haunted his eyes was in the past, it was still very much in the present for me and lingered like a bad odor in the air. It was going to take time to dissolve.
"I'm honestly doing well, just catching up on all the sleep I missed out on. Dealing with the aftermath, of course, but otherwise, I'm really okay."
Dad regarded me. I held his stare, willing him to believe me.
"I can help you pack, if you’d like," Sophia offered. I looked at her.
"I'd like that. Thanks," I said, giving her a smile.
I didn't want to pack, and I sure didn't want to do it alone where I was lost to my thoughts. I'd either get nothing done from being depressed and not having the energy to do it, or I'd cry over the shitty hand I'd been dealt.
Dad's voice caught my attention. "When you get off the plane, look for the chauffeur to take you to your apartment. Your SUV won't arrive until the following week. Your apartment is right outside of campus and within walking distance of everything you could need, at least that's what student services told me when I spoke with them. The driver will have your house key, and the place will already be stocked with food."
I smiled, grateful that Dad was still willing to support me after everything. He could've kicked me out. I was eighteen, after all. Standing, I took the plates to the sink. They didn't usually stay after the sun set.
"Let me get this," Dad said quickly, and stood with me. He waved my hands away. "Go relax with Sophia on the balcony, or something. It's cooler out now."
"Dad, it's still like eighty degrees outside."
"It's better than ninety-three."
