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“I don’t know, that’s the problem. The social worker said she would be a ward of the state for almost two years before anyone could adopt her, and he also said people don’t generally want to adopt sick kids. The future seems so bleak for her. When I look at her little face, I just want to cry. Her chin wobbles and she gets these huge tears that roll down her face when she cries for her mom, and I think; what kind of woman does this? It’s awful.” She wiped at a tear that was sneaking out of the corner of her eye.
“I know you’re doing all you can for this little girl, but there is a limit to how involved you can get. One day, maybe you’ll be the wonder doctor to cure the disease.” My protective instincts reared. If she stayed focused on school, then maybe she wouldn’t get too attached to this little girl. “Don’t forget about your big picture.”
“I can’t abandon Rory, too,” she said softly.
“I’m not suggesting that you do, but you’ve got hundreds or thousands of sick children in your future, Remi. You’ve always wanted to be a doctor and you’ve got to keep your eye on the ball. Keep visiting her, but I just worry about you. I don’t like to see you sad.
“I thought you, of all people, would understand,” she sighed and closed her eyes.
“I do, but you are my main concern. I don’t want to see you struggling with emotional turmoil.”
“Being a child oncologist is the wrong choice of profession, then. Maybe I should be a pediatrician instead.”
She said the words, but I knew Remi and that she didn’t mean it. She wanted to find a cure and I wouldn’t be surprised if, after she got her degree, she’d do a residency at St. Jude’s and then want to do a research fellowship after that. She had many years of work ahead of her. It was a heavy load to bear and once again, I found myself aching to be with her; to help her in some way.
“Do you need some money to buy her anything?”
Her face softened. “That’s sweet of you, but Mom and Dad send me a monthly stipend, and I never use it all, so I’m okay. I can buy her things, but I’m concerned what will happen to her when she finishes chemo and they put her into foster care. I’m terrified for her. She’ll feel abandoned all over again.”
“Take it one day at a time, sweetheart.” I stopped as soon as I said the word, but it just fell out of my mouth. “Sorry, Remi. I shouldn’t call you things like that. I know you’re with Alan.”
“I’m notwithAlan!” she said exasperated. “We go to dinner or coffee once in a while. That’s it.”
“Well, he’s a fool, then,” I said.
Remi’s eyes locked with mine, even on the screen of the phone. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“If he’s a fool, what does that make you, then?”
“A double jack ass.”
She nodded and then fell into silence, still staring into my eyes but there was a flicker of sadness in them, but I had to be honest.
“I miss you, but I still struggle with the fact that you don’t trust me.”
I closed my eyes and dropped my head. I knew the minute I let that slip the conversation would go downhill. I let out a frustrated huff.Shit!
Remi sniffed contemptuously and visibly stiffened. “Yeah, well, ditto. Let’s just leave it the way it is. Bye, Dylan.”
“Wait, Remi!” I said, but she had already ended the call.
“Damn it!” I shouted and threw my phone against the wall as hard as I could. Either there would be a broken phone or a hole in the wall to show for it, and I didn’t give a fuck.
Remi
I had spoken to my professors and was taking the day off from class because Rory was having her second chemo treatment.
She cried when I was about to go home for the evening, so I took my books into her room and stayed in the chair next to her bed until she fell asleep.
The chemo drugs usually made patients lose their hair a few weeks after the first treatment and it would be starting soon for Rory. Children that young didn’t usually realize what was happening, but considering all she’d been through, I wanted to distract her.
I spent the morning at a costume shop and came back with a toddler size Rapunzel wig, then went to a bookstore and bought a big book of fairy tales, making sure it contained the story of the princess with the long locks and walked into her room where they were giving her the “mean medicine” laden with my bag of gifts. I remembered calling chemo by that when it was given to me, but I was a little older and had treatment for three years, which was standard.
The first month of treatment was brutal, and she would undergo two lumbar punctures that would deliver intrathecal chemotherapy directly to the spinal fluid to kill any leukemia cells that may be in there and in her brain. Thank goodness she would be sedated for those procedures.
Thankfully, Marcia was in the room with Rory when I arrived. The nurse was removing the bag of saline she had received prior to the chemo and hooking up the chemo meds. Rory was watching for me, and her little face lit up when I came into the room.
