Chapter 10, part 2: Clinic visit

As the weeks went by, the newness of college wore off and homesickness settled in.  I worried about Oma.  I missed my family.  I liked Lacey, Ian and Breanne well enough, but it wasn’t the same as spending time with my old friends. 

Every time I saw a girl with long black hair I thought of Alicia.  We talked on the phone and texted, but it wasn’t the same. Whenever I saw the Japanese exchange student, the only Asian on campus, I couldn’t help but think of Quan.  We were still “friends” on a few different social networking sites, but I thought it would seem desperate and lame to get in touch with him.

Mom and Kirsten called and left messages, but after the second week of classes I seldom returned their calls.  I figured the best way out of the homesickness was to cut ties to home and plunge myself completely into campus life.  I participated in as many activities as I could, but still felt lonely.  At least the Elkie Hi kept me from feeling like an outcast.  Still, I only knew Lacey and Breanne well enough to call a friend.  Everyone else seemed to be great pals with one another already.  What was wrong with me that made it so hard to have more than a few friends?

When I finished the antibiotics prescription, I returned to the health clinic.  The lump was slightly bigger, slightly more tender.  I’d been feeling more tired than normal too.  This time I saw a different doctor, who confirmed that my temperature was still elevated, but not quite high enough to be classified as a fever. 

Another prescription, more instructions to return if no change.  Not the birthday present I was hoping for.  Normally my birthday was the best day of the year, but this year was different.  How I longed to celebrate it at home with Mom’s famous chocolate-orange cake and my favorite chicken and dumpling dinner.  I longed for the salty air of the beach, the bright lights of the city.  Even a traffic jam would have been a welcome sign of home. 

One day a week from Halloween, I pulled my down jacket tighter around my body as I left Warner Hall and headed down the hill for my follow-up  visit to the clinic. 

“Giselle!” a male voice called.

I turned and panicked at the sight of red hair and a dimpled smile approaching.  Which twin was it? “Uh, hey there, uh…  Mr. Finley,” I said as he caught up to me.

“Mr. Finley?  It’s Rhys,” he said with a wink.  “Don’t worry, it happens.  My brother and I should probably start wearing name tags or something.”

“Sorry about that,” I said as we started to walk together.

“Really, it’s no problem.  But what’s with the coat?  It’s only 50 degrees.  If you’re that cold now, how are you going to survive an Ohio winter?”

“Guess it’s my California blood,” I said.  Or was my fever really that high?

“Well, that’ll thicken up soon enough.  Here’s where I turn,” he said when we reached a fork in the sidewalk.  “Where are you off to?” he asked.

“Health clinic.”

“Oh right.  You asked us to pray for your follow up visit last night.  Hope they figure out what’s wrong with you.  Stay warm, California girl!”

Minutes later, I sat shivering in a flimsy gown in the examining room of the clinic.  Why were doctor’s offices always freezing?  And why did I have to get undressed when the problem was on my neck?

The lump had definitely grown, and was increasingly painful. Was it something worse than an infection?  My mind swirled with horrible possibilities. 

Before my worries got any more out of control, the doctor knocked and entered.

“Hi, Giselle.  I’m Doctor Swanson.  Let’s see what we have here.” She ran her hand under my jaw.  I winced as she pushed on the tender mass.  “Did you finish the script for Keflex that Dr. Smith wrote for you the last time you came in?”

“Yes.”

“Those are some pretty powerful antibiotics.  Have you noticed any improvement?”

“Not really.  If anything, it’s gotten bigger.”

“Let’s have you lay back for me.  I want to palpate your internal organs, check to see if there’s anything else unusual.  Tell me again, when did you say you first noticed it?” Dr. Swanson asked as she continued the exam.

“The first week of school … so, a little over a month ago?”

“A month and a half.”   She flipped through my chart. “Hmmm … you still have a low-grade fever.”  Suddenly she stopped and re-read something.  “I just noticed that you said you had your wisdom teeth out in August.  I wonder why Dr. Smith didn’t make the connection.  It could be an infected socket.”

I remembered the day I had my wisdom teeth out and the oral surgeon’s instructions to swish with salt water.  I knew I’d slacked off on that.  But the pain wasn’t in my mouth. “Why would an infected socket cause this lump on my neck?”

“I’m not sure, but what we’ve tried so far hasn’t worked.  It’s a possibility worth investigating.  You’ll need to find a dentist or oral surgeon to open it up and clean it out.  Dr. Foster down the street can probably take care of it.”

“How do I contact him?”

“Judy at the front desk can help you make an appointment.  I’ll write you a stronger dose of Keflex.  Come back and see us for follow-up when you finish it.  I’d bet anything you’ll be as right as rain by then.”

I nodded grimly.  Another oral surgery wasn’t at the top of my wish list, but if it might end this pain and fatigue, it would be worth it.  Judy explained the situation to Dr. Foster’s office and got me squeezed in for an appointment at the end of the week.

Chapter 11, part 1: Call home

I trudged back to my room, feeling so worn out.  All I wanted to do lately was sleep, but the tenderness in my jaw was so uncomfortable I never stayed asleep for long.  

Despite the evidence, I’d wanted to believe the antibiotics were working.  It was too scary to think that something could be really wrong even as the pain got worse and the lump under my jaw grew big enough to be visible. Why was this happening? Maybe it was a punishment?

I hadn’t yet told my parents what was going on.  Why worry them until I had more concrete information?  Or maybe it would just go away on its own.

Lacey sat on her bed studying, wearing a skirt and nylons even in this casual setting.  I was a little relieved to see that Ian wasn’t there for once. He’d been spending way too much time in our room, trying to escape the malodorous feet and other antics of his inconsiderate roommate.  I didn’t have anything against him, really, but sometimes he got on my nerves.  But what could I say?  He was Lacey’s friend, practically her brother.

“How did it go?” Lacey asked, putting aside her books.  

I told her about the surgery, and she gave me a hug.  

“My appointment is Friday morning.  I’m pretty freaked out.  Do you think you could walk there with me?”

“Oh, honey, I wish I could.  My parents are coming to take me home for the weekend on Thursday night.  But you shouldn’t go alone, and definitely shouldn’t walk there or back.  How about I ask Ian for you?  It’ll be better anyway. He has a car you know.  ”  

“I guess so.”  

I thought about asking Breanne to go with me instead.  But Lacey had a point.  I remembered how loopy I was after surgery in August.  Even though the dentist office was right across the street from campus, it was ridiculous to think of walking back after a procedure like that.  Ian could be annoying, but not many freshmen or even sophomores had a car on campus, and I didn’t feel like I knew Phoebe well enough to impose.  Just the thought of finding someone else to help was exhausting.  Ian it would have to be.



I decided to skip the rest of my afternoon classes and take a nap before calling Mom.  Lacey went to the lobby to finish studying.  I loaded up on ibuprofen, hoping to take the edge off the pain so I could get some deeper sleep.

When I woke up, it was dark.   What time was it anyway?  After eight?  Had I really slept that long?  The dining hall was already closed.  Not that it mattered.  I didn’t have much of an appetite lately, and when I did, my mouth didn’t open far enough to eat anything other than pizza or soup.

I flipped open the laptop computer my parents had given me as a graduation present and launched Skype.  It was the first time I’d called home since the second week of school.

“Giselle! What a nice surprise! I was beginning to wonder if we’d ever hear from you again.” Mom said.  I could see her fiddling with her web cam as she spoke.  Satisfied with its position, she finally looked at her screen.  “Oh my God, you look awful!  What’s wrong?”

“Do I really look that bad?”

“Your face is pale.  And thin, much too thin.  Your eyes—they’re glassy.  I can always tell you’re sick when your eyes look like that. You just look plain exhausted to me.  Are you getting enough sleep?”

“I try.  I’ve been going to the campus clinic to try to figure out what’s wrong.”

“And what do they say?”

“They think the lump may be a complication from my wisdom tooth surgery.”

“What lump?”

“This one.”  I turned the side of my face to the screen and pushed my hair back so she could see the marble-sized mass under my jaw.  

“Giselle, what is that?  How long has that been there?  Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?”

“No one knows what it is.  I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you, I guess.  I didn’t want it to be real.” I started to cry. “I’ve been so scared, Mom.  And now they want to go back in my mouth and see if there’s any debris causing an infection.”

“But I reminded you every day to swish like the doctor ordered.  Didn’t you keep up with it?”

“Maybe not as well as I should.”  

“This is crazy. What is God doing with our family?  First your Oma and now this.  At least with Oma, I can visit and take care of her.  With you, I feel so helpless. My baby, so far away.  I wish you were here so I could tuck you in bed and take care of you.  Have you thought about coming home?”

“I want to stay.  I like it here.”

“But you look so sick.  Maybe this is a sign—”

“Mom!” I said sharply, although I’d been wondering the same thing lately.  Had it really been God’s will to come to Elk River at all?

“Sorry, I just miss you so much already, and now this.  If you’re going to stay at least please don’t keep me in the dark any more.  I want daily updates until you are better.”

“Okay, I promise.  I’m going back to bed.  Good night.”  

Halfway through the night, I had a bad dream about what the surgeon would find on Friday. 

Chapter 11, part 2: Ride

Friday morning I sat out by the curb in front of Warner Hall, waiting for Ian.  He pulled up in his beat up brown monster truck and jumped out to walk around and open the passenger side door for me.  He wore stained grey sweats and an unbuttoned grungy plaid flannel shirt-jacket.  A hairy belly stuck out below the torn undershirt.  His face was stubbly, his white blond hair matted and sticking out in all directions.  

“Ready?”  He wove his hands together to make a step.  “I’ll help you up.”

I wrinkled my nose as I climbed past him into the car.

“Sorry about the way I look.” He sniffed his pits and exhaled sharply.  “Whew! And smell.  This morning I got up early to pray, then lost track of time.  All of a sudden, God was like, ‘Uh, Ian, aren’t you forgetting something?’ and whoa, two hours had gone by without me noticing. It was either shower and shave, or get you to your appointment on time.  We can roll down the windows if you want.”

“No, that’s OK,” I said, but was relieved when he ignored me and cracked them a bit anyway.

The trip to the dentist office took only a few minutes. I didn’t have the energy to make small talk, and Ian seemed content to drive in silence.

When we got there, Ian took off his coat and found a seat in the lobby while I signed in at the receptionist window.  The smell was even stronger without the jacket.

“You don’t have to wait,” I said as I walked toward him and sat down a few seats away.  “I don’t know how long this will take.  I could have them call you when I’m ready to be picked up.”

“Not a problem, don’t mind waiting.  I don’t have Friday classes anyway.  Besides, it wouldn’t be right to leave you here all alone.”

“You could probably go home to freshen up and be back before I’m done.”

“Whoa, I can take a hint.   Is it really that bad?  I’m so ashamed!”  He hung his head and covered his face in an exaggerated display of humiliation.

I couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.  Even if he was a weird slob, I would feel terrible if I had hurt his feelings.  I reached out to touch one of his hairy arms.  The hair was surprisingly soft, his arm muscular. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

He looked up and winked.  “Aw, you’re so sweet.  Don’t take things so literally, Gigi.  I’ve got thicker skin than that.”  

A petite woman in purple scrubs opened the door to the waiting area.  “Miss Gottlieb? We’re ready for you.”

I hesitated and looked at Ian.

“Don’t be scared.  You’ll be fine.  I’ll be praying for you, Gigi.”

They used local anesthetic rather than put me under all the way for this surgery.  With the pain temporarily gone, the muscles in my jaw relaxed some, at least enough for the dentist to force my mouth wide enough for his instruments to fit.  Although it didn’t hurt, it was still excruciating to feel the pressure and hear every noise as they cut open and irrigated the back of my mouth.  Thankfully, it didn’t take very long.

“All right, Miss Gottlieb.  That should do it.  You may return to the lobby.  I’ll be out in a moment to discuss my findings.”

Ian sat reading a Bible.  He had changed into clean jeans and a black turtleneck.  His hair was wet and slicked back, his face clean shaven.  The cologne or aftershave reminded me of Quan on prom night.  He still wasn’t exactly my type, but I could see how some girls would find him attractive.

“Hey, you clean up good,” I said.

He looked up, surprised.  “How did it go?”

Before I could answer, the dentist came out.

“Would you and your friend like to come back to my office?”

Ian jumped up and held the door for both of us, and looked at me questioningly.  I shook my head to indicate he should stay behind.  Alone, I followed Dr. Foster down a narrow hall.  Hopefully he had good news.  This could be the turning point.  
   
“Miss Gottlieb, I have some good news and some bad news,” he said as we settled in.  “The good news is that your wisdom tooth wounds were healing nicely, and had no debris in them.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”  That meant whatever was going on, it wasn’t my fault, even if I had missed a few swishes here and there.

“The bad news is that leaves us without an answer.  We still don’t know what could be causing your mass or the fever.  This case appears to be beyond my expertise.  I’d like to refer you to an Ear Nose and Throat specialist, Dr. Curtis in Avondale.  He’s amazing at what he does.”  

I scheduled the appointment with Dr. Curtis for the following Friday.  Ian picked me up in front of Warner again, freshly showered this time from the look of his wet hair, clean-shaven face and the alluring scent of his cologne.  Wait, did I just call Ian alluring?

I had been thinking of him a lot in the past week.  It took my mind off worrying about my health.  How kind he was to stay and wait for me during my surgery.  How spiritual he was to get up early to pray and get so involved in a conversation with God that he’d lose track of time.  Suddenly his extra pounds and crooked teeth didn’t seem to matter so much.  

Maybe I’d had so much trouble getting boyfriends in the past because I was setting my sights on the wrong type of guy?  That guy Brad, and even Ewan and Rhys were out of my league.  I’d never considered Quan either until he confessed his everlasting like for me, and that turned out pretty well.  At least until his parents made him dump me.

“Did you do anything for Halloween?” I asked him when we pulled onto Interstate 70.

“With all our reading through the Old Testament, I got to thinking about why we celebrate so many secular holidays,” he said.  “So I did some research and decided to celebrate only Biblical ones.”

“What do you mean by Biblical holidays?  Like Christmas and Easter?”

“No, no.  First of all, Jesus probably wasn’t born on Christmas at all.”

“He wasn’t?”

“Think about it.  John the Baptist was born six months before Jesus, right?”

“That sounds right.”

“And we know approximately when John the Baptist was born,” he said.  He quoted from the story in Luke and explained how the Hebrew calendar lined up with ours.  “So, add nine months to that, and you know what month old Johnny was born.  Six months from that puts Jesus’ birthday in the fall some time.  One cool theory I read said it was likely during Sukkot.”

“Sue-coat?”

“The feast of tabernacles.  Jesus is God in flesh, and a tabernacle is a tent.  God tabernacling with us, get it?”

“I’ve never heard this stuff before.  Tell me more.”

Ian was more spiritual than I had imagined.  How did he know so much?  Theology was fascinating to me, and the more he talked about it, the more fascinating he became too.  Maybe when I was feeling better I’d ask Lacey if she thought I would have a chance with him.

I didn’t see Dr. Curtis that visit.  His physician’s assistant took my case history and then sent me for a CT scan to see what was really going on in my neck.  I’d have to go back the next week to get the results and discuss a treatment plan.

Chapter 12, part 1: Patient Wait

“Gigi, how are you feeling today?” Mom had been calling twice every day since the oral surgery to check up on me.   She was worried and so was I.

Cleaning out my wisdom tooth sockets had done nothing.  Different courses of antibiotics had done nothing.  The lump just kept getting bigger.  Ibuprofen was no longer controlling the pain, and the acetaminophen with codeine made me nauseous.   

“About the same.” The lump was the size of a golf ball, and it was pressing on my jaw so that I couldn’t even open my mouth wide enough to bite into a sandwich.   My diet was limited to soup and smoothies, but I wasn’t that hungry anyway.  I’d lost 20 pounds since starting college.

By some miracle, I was still keeping up in my classes.  I even attended most of the CSF meetings, even if all I could do when I got there was languish on a sofa.  Maybe my body needed to rest, but my mind and spirit needed the normality of going to class and the support from fellow Christians more.
 
“Your father and I are praying for you.  Kirsten and Ruthie too.  I put your name on the list at church, and my Bible study group asks me every week for an update.”

“Everyone here is praying too. I give a weekly update at CSF meetings.”

“I still think you should be staying in your room and resting.”

“Mom, I can’t.  I’d go crazy with worry and fear.  I need to stay a part of campus life as much as I can.  Dr. Curtis said …”

"Yes, how did your second appointment with the specialist go?  Did you actually get to see him this time?”  

“I liked him.  He’s pretty funny.  He even thanked me for bringing him such an interesting and challenging case to diagnose.”

"So you have a diagnosis?”

“Not exactly.  The CT scan they took last week showed necrotic tissue in my neck.  He still doesn’t know if it’s an infection, or …” I paused, not wanting to say the word that terrified me most. “Or something worse, but either way, the dead stuff has to come out.”  

"Something worse?  You mean cancer, don’t you?  Oh, God.”  Tears were in her voice.  “Is it a major surgery?”

“Just outpatient.”  To me, that sounded less serious, and therefore, less scary.   

“When?”

“We talked about scheduling it for the day after Thanksgiving so I don’t have to miss any classes.  I don’t know how I’m going to get there though.  Ian’s been my chauffeur all this time, driving me to every appointment, but he’ll be going home.  I mean, everyone is.  It’s a major holiday.”

“You should come home too.  We could do the surgery here.”

“Mom, we’ve been over this.  If I come home I’m afraid I’ll never make it back.  I don’t want to be the girl who went away to school and couldn’t hack it.  I want to at least finish one semester.”

“You got sick, honey.  That’s not in your control. Everyone will understand.”

“But I’d still feel like a failure.  Besides, I want to stick with Dr. Curtis.”

"In that case, I’m coming there.  I can’t let my baby go through major surgery alone.”  

I’d been trying so hard to stay strong, but all of a sudden I realized how much I wanted my Mommy. “It’s just outpatient surgery.  But it will mean a lot to have you.  Even if I’m not a baby anymore.”  

“You’re never too old to need your mother.”

I had to change the subject or I’d start crying.  “Oh, before I forget, I want to do something to thank Ian for everything he’s done for me.  He’s been so willing to help, not just giving me rides, but always asking if I need to talk or do something to cheer me up.  He’s turned out to be such a good friend.  Sometimes I wonder if it could be more.”  

“Is this the same Ian you told us about at the beginning of the year?  Didn’t you say he was annoying and odd looking?”

“He is a little, but it’s kind of endearing once you get to know him.”  He was so good, so godly, so kind, so wise, I hardly noticed his unkempt appearance any more.  But I was reluctant to tell him of my feelings. “I Don’t Know How to Love Him” from Jesus Christ Superstar got stuck in my head whenever we were together.

“I knew it, you’re going to fall in love and get married and you’ll never come back from Ohio. Just like your grandmother.  You know she met Opa at Elk River.”

I’d been so wrapped up in my own problems, I’d forgotten about Oma.  “How is she?”

“A little better I think.  She started talking again, although it’s very hard to understand her.”

“I wish I could visit her.”

“I’m ready to buy your plane ticket tonight.  Come home and let us take care of you, honey.”

“Mom, let’s not go over that again.”

"Had to try.  You’re handling this all so well, Gigi.  I’m so proud of you.  Call me tomorrow, ok?”

“I will.  Good night.”

“Good night.”



A week or so later, I jolted awake at the creak of the door.  The book I’d fallen asleep studying slid off my stomach and crashed to the floor from my loft bed.  

“Sorry to wake you, hon,” Lacey whispered as she handed the book back up to me.  “How are you doing today?  Feel up to CSF tonight?”  

“Not sure.  Just walking back from class took so much out of me this afternoon.  Could you just give them an update for me?”

“Sure I could.  I know how much it helps you to be around people though.  How about I ask Ian to give us a ride?”

Before I could answer, she had Ian on the phone.  Of course, he’d be happy to help.  

“Better get bundled up,” Lacey said.  “It’s cold out there tonight and Ian says the heater in his truck just went out.”

Lacey insisted that I ride shotgun while she crouched on the jump seat behind us.  We sped around the campus roads.  

“Thanks for driving us, Ian,” I said.  “It’s so icy out there!  I clung to the hand rails all the way down and up the hills this morning, they were so slippery.  As it was I ended up on my rear more than once.”  

“Ian, sounds like Giselle’s hinting that she’d like a ride to class tomorrow too,” Lacey said.  

“That’s not—,” I protested.

“I’m ashamed I haven’t thought of it sooner,” Ian said.  “We’re both going that way anyway, might as well carpool.  Plus, I’d be glad of the company.”

He’d be glad of the company?  I couldn’t help wonder if there was a hidden message in that.  Maybe Ian was developing feelings for me too.  Why else would he do so much?  

Wednesday I stayed on the Quad, buying soup from the snack bar in the Student Center during my break between classes.  After my afternoon class,  Ian drove me back and dropped me off at the curb of Warner Hall.  

“Pick you up tomorrow at ten till nine?” he asked as I climbed down from the truck.

“You don’t need to,” I said.

“Don’t be afraid to accept help,” he said.  “It’s one way God shows his love.”

“Fine, see you tomorrow.”

Thursday morning, we walked in to Religion 101 together.  

“Thanks for the ride again,” I said to Ian as we took our seats.

Breanne leaned over.  “The ride?  Something going on between you and mountain man?”

“He’s just a friend, helping me out because I haven’t been feeling well.”  I felt myself blush.  I hadn’t wanted to talk about my health problems with anyone outside of CSF.     

“He may be a friend now, but looks like you want him to be more?” she said.  She sounded odd, maybe disappointed?


Breanne’s words rung in my ears as Ian continued giving me rides to class more mornings than not.  Did I want him to be more than a friend?  Did he think of me that way?  I surreptitiously studied him for clues as to his true feelings.  

As the date of the surgery approached, though, such trivial issues fell away under the weight of pure exhaustion.  The last few days of classes before Thanksgiving break arrived and for the first time all semester, I told Lacey I planned to skip the weekly CSF meeting.

Ian and Lacey tried to drag me from my room anyway. “Gigi, are you up to taking a walk with us?  We have a little surprise for you,” Ian said.

“Depends on how far we’re walking.”

“Not far, I promise,” said Lacey.

“Where are we going?”

Ian’s eyes twinkled. “It’s a surprise. C’mon.”  He grabbed my hand and led me down the hall.  I liked the feel of his hand in mine.

As we turned the corner to the lobby of Warner Hall, I saw a room full of people — the CSF meeting had come to me.  Tacked on one wall was a giant banner that read, “Get Well Soon.”

I was stunned speechless at the outpouring of care.  All I could get out was, “You guys!”

Phoebe stood up and addressed the group.

“We’re all here tonight to hold Giselle up in prayer and encourage her as she prepares for surgery on Friday.  Giselle, the banner is yours to keep.  Everyone signed it with their favorite scripture or a prayer or a joke to cheer you up.  You’ve been such an inspiration to us all, your faith and sweet spirit as you patiently wait for healing.  I’d like to open it up now to anyone who wants to share some words of affirmation for Giselle, and then we’ll spend the rest of the time laying hands on her in prayer.”

I was overwhelmed.  I couldn’t help crying as my friends and even people I didn’t know that well shared their affirmations.  Would they be saying such kind things if they knew the real me?

Then during the prayer time I couldn’t help worrying: Did I have faith enough to get God to heal me? What if He was the one who allowed the sickness in the first place?

Chapter 12, part 2: Thanksgiving Break

Late Wednesday night after almost everyone had left campus I stood at the lobby door, looking out into the falling snow for a sign of Mom.   At last headlights broke the darkness, and a small red sedan pulled up to the curb.  The doors opened and the interior light silhouetted not one, but two figures.  Elation momentarily overcame exhaustion and I ran out to them.

“Ruth!  I never expected to see you too!”  

“Blessed Redeemer has the whole week off and—”  Mom began.

“And I’m doing my state report on Ohio,” Ruth cut in. “My teacher said this can count as first-hand research.”

They followed me down the hallways of Warner to my dorm room sharing details of Ruth’s first plane ride.  Inside, Mom set her luggage on Lacey’s bed.  

“Where am I going to sleep?” Ruth whined.

“We talked about this,” Mom reminded her.  “In a sleeping bag on the floor.”

Ruth rolled her eyes.  “You didn’t tell me the floor wouldn’t have any carpet!  Why do you both get to sleep on beds?  It’s not fair!”

“You’d like to sleep on a bed,” Mom said evenly.  “It doesn’t seem fair that Giselle and I get one while you sleep on the floor.”

“Doesn’t seem fair?  No, it really truly totally is completely unfair!  Just because I’m the littlest.”

“Sounds like this is really important to you.  Do you have any other ideas?”

“We could go back home.”

“What about Giselle’s surgery tomorrow?”

“Oh, yeah.”  Ruth thought hard, then brightened with an idea.  “Could we go to a hotel?”

“Keep thinking.”

“You could let me sleep with you in the bed.”

Mom looked at the narrow twin mattress and back at Ruth.  “Any other ideas?”

“We could take turns.  You sleep on the floor first and then wake me up in the middle of the night and I’ll switch.”

“Doesn’t sound very restful.  What else?”

Ruth flopped down into my desk chair and folded her arms across her chest.  “You aren’t giving any of my ideas a chance.  If I can’t have a bed then nobody should have one!”  

“You want us all to sleep on the floor together?  Giselle, you up for that?”

“Sure, why not?” I said.  “It’d be like a family slumber party!  But I don’t know how much help I can be setting it all up.”

Mom and Ruth dragged the mattresses of the beds and onto the floor, creating a colossal spread of sheets blankets and pillows in the center of the room while I supervised.  

“What’s good to eat around here, Gigi?” Mom asked as she plumped a pillow.

“There’s a pizza place and a diner here in town, or if you want a chain restaurant, we could drive to Exeter or Avondale.  I’m not really hungry so whatever you and Ruth want is fine with me.”

“Can we order a big dessert too?” Ruth asked.

“Not tonight, sweetie.”

“But why not?”



Ruth continued pestering Mom about dessert all the way to the diner at the end of Main street.  She asked one more time as we looked over the menus.

“I believe that’s been asked and answered, Ruth.” Mom said.  “Now, would you like to order the chicken fingers or spaghetti?”

“Neither one.  I want the hamburger,” Ruth sulked.

“Fine.  A hamburger for Ruth, and Giselle, what will you be having?”

“I told you I’m not very hungry.”

“I’ll order you a bowl of chicken soup and you can eat what you like of it.  No wonder you are so sick if you’re not eating.  You need all the nourishment you can get to fight whatever this is.  Now I really wish I’d insisted on you coming home so I could take care of you.”

“Well, you’re here now,” I said.  I slowly slurped on the soup and managed to eat almost the whole bowl.  

The waitress came to clear our places.  “How about a slice of pie?”

“C’mon, can I Mom?  I’m still hungry after that hamburger.”

“Asked and answered.”

Ruth banged her fork on the table.  “That’s so stupid!  You never let me have anything!”

Mom put her hand over Ruth’s.  “You really wanted dessert tonight and are angry and disappointed you can’t have it.”

Ruth calmed down and met mom’s eyes.  “Yeah.  Sorry for yelling and saying stupid.  I really do want dessert but that was a rude reaction.  I’m ready for our slumber party. Let’s go!”

I couldn’t believe it.  What voodoo did Mom work to make Ruth go from whiny demands to apologizing so fast?  If I’d pulled the same attitudes as Ruth when I was nine, I’d have probably gotten a spanking or at least sent to bed without any dinner.  I might have apologized but wouldn’t have meant it, and the rest of the evening would have been spent in tense silence.  

The snow fell heavier as we left the restaurant.  Mom drove unusually slow, worried about hitting black ice.  When we got back to the room, we called Daddy and Kirsten on Skype to pray together as a family for the surgery.  Mom was nervous not only about the surgery but about driving the 20 miles to Avondale in the inclement weather.  We prayed for safety on the trip to the hospital.

Our prayers were more than answered.  The morning dawned clear.  The storm had moved on, leaving a gorgeous winter scene in its wake, and the traffic reports said that driving conditions were good on Interstate 70.    

When I first came out of anesthesia after the surgery, Dr. Curtis came to see us.  

“Quite a surprising morning!” he chuckled.  “It was the oddest thing.  As soon as I cut into your neck, pus oozed out.  With that dead tissue on your CT scan, I fully expected to find something else.”

“So it’s an infection after all?  Not cancer?” I asked.

“Yes, but obviously an antibiotic resistant strain.  I’ve sent a culture to Ohio State for testing to determine what exactly we’re looking at and more importantly, what can kill it.”

“And what was the dead tissue?” Mom asked.

“A lymph node.  It nobly sacrificed itself to save your life.  If it hadn’t shut down and closed off the way it did, we’d be looking at a systemic problem.  I doubt you’d have made it this long.”

“Praise God!” Mom cried, clutching my hand and pulling Ruth close to her side.

The trip back home was a blur, fogged by lingering anesthesia.  Mom and Ruth stopped at an ice cream parlor and left me sleeping in the car.  As the anesthetic wore off, I realized that even with the pain from the incision, I felt a thousand times better.  

Between my codeine-induced naps, Mom, Ruth and I watched Netflix on Demand or just talked. The thick blanket of white left behind by the storm compounded the eerie silence that enfolded the empty campus.   

“Mom, can I go outside and play in the snow?” Ruth asked after the first movie ended.

“Yes, but stay close to the window so we can see you,” Mom instructed.  

“How’s Oma doing?” I asked after Ruth headed out.  

“She sends her love.”

“So she’s doing better?”

“In some ways.  She still can’t move her left side though.  Her doctor thinks she’s made as much progress as she’ll ever make.  Your father and his brothers have agreed to have her go to Walnut Manor.”

“Why?” I’d been to Walnut Manor with our youth group caroling.  The place gave me the creeps.  Death felt so close there.

“She needs a lot of assistance, honey.  It’s too much for any of us.”  Mom looked at me with concern.  “I can see this is upsetting you.  Let’s change the subject. Did you know Kirsten finally changed her look?”

"I thought something was different about her when we Skyped last night.  What happened?”

“Apparently there’s been some kind of rumor going around the high school that she and Heidi are, um, more than friends.”

“That’s ridiculous!”  

“I know, right?  I’ve never heard anything more ludicrous.  Anyone who knows her knows that she’s been dating Charlie forever.”

"That’s crazy.  Do people believe everything they hear?”

“Anyway, my point was, that as soon as the rumors started, she went to Old Navy and bought a whole new wardrobe.  No more mens’ pants or ugly shirts.  She even dyed her hair back to it’s normal color and is letting it grow out.  She looks so pretty and feminine now.  If she had just listened to me in the first place …”  

“Mom, you know nagging doesn’t work, right?”

Mom laughed self-deprecatingly. “You’d think I learn, especially where Kirsten’s concerned.  It’s like the best way to get her to do anything is to tell her I’d love for her to do the opposite. You on the other hand … Well, what I was going to say is that you’re my good girl, but … let’s just say I appreciate that I’ve never had to worry much about you.”