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“Sure.”
“Let’s go to my office.”
Aiden walked beside the doctor, his nausea growing with each step. He knew the latest news wasn’t good.
Dr. Stevens opened the door to his office and gestured for Aiden to walk in. Aiden took a seat in front of the desk in the small, clinical office. The doctor shut the door and crossed his office to take a seat at his desk.
“How are you holding up?” the doctor asked.
“About as well as can be expected, I guess.”
“I still recommend seeing a psychiatrist to help you work through all this.”
Aiden shook his head but said nothing.
He couldn’t afford a psychiatrist right now. He had no insurance and most of the money he made went toward his mother’s nursing home care. This place was expensive, especially since his mom required advanced care over the past few years. Many nursing homes wouldn’t take Huntington’s patients due to their angry outbursts — she may be frail now, but she wasn’t always, and Julie had many, many such outbursts when she first arrived there.
“What’s the latest?” Aiden asked.
“Well,” the doctor said, “I’m afraid we’ve reached the point where Julie has progressed to trouble swallowing. She’s not getting the nutrition she needs from eating, even though we are supplementing liquid diets and vitamins as much as possible.”
Aiden shut his eyes and nodded. He was afraid of that. She seemed thinner every time he saw her.
Dr. Stevens waited until Aiden looked at him again before he continued, “As you are aware, Julie’s living-will states she does not want a feeding tube or to be intubated when the time comes. She doesn’t want to prolong the inevitable.”
“I know,” Aiden whispered. “She made that very clear when she was diagnosed.”
“We will continue as we are for as long as possible, Aiden. But I want you to prepare yourself. Julie’s body is failing past the point where we can help without going against her wishes. At most, she may have another month or two.”
Aiden nodded blankly. He knew this day would come after the Huntington’s diagnosis, but he hadn’t expected it so soon. Most people with Huntington’s passed away 10-20 years after diagnosis; his mom’s diagnosis only happened 10 years ago, but her symptoms progressed fast.
A ringing began in Aiden’s ears. The doctor said something else but Aiden didn’t comprehend it. The ringing drowned everything out and isolated him in his head.
He stood. “I’m sorry, I have to go,” he thought he murmured before walking out the door.
Aiden navigated the hallways and left the building without thinking about his surroundings. The ringing continued as he climbed into his car, started it, and drove on autopilot.
His mom had always been the figurehead in his life. His father left before his birth so it had always been the two of them. Aiden’s single mom raised him to depend on himself and work hard for what he wanted. To care for those around him to the best of his ability.
He didn’t know what he would do without her. Huntington’s was always fatal; he knew that. But there hadn’t been enough time. All this happened too soon.
The noise in his head deafened him and made him focus only on the bad. But he didn’t know how to quiet it.
After driving for what seemed like hours, lost in his own head, Aiden pulled into an unintended driveway. He parked and turned off the car automatically. Without realizing what he was doing, he walked up the sidewalk and knocked at the front door.
Bex opened the door and looked at him. Immediately, she asked, “Are you okay?” He saw her mouth the words rather than hear them.
Tears welled in his eyes. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to his chest.
He choked out. “I’m sorry. I need to hold you.”
The first tear broke free, releasing the flood. He buried his face in her hair and sobbed.
He cried for his mom, for the bad hand his family was dealt, for all the years lost. Everything flooded out.
Bex rubbed his neck and hair soothingly, holding him as he let all his grief loose.
Gradually, the ringing in his head stopped and only blessed silence remained. The tears slowed and he took a step back from Bex, wiping his face with his hand.
