I stop by our room to grab another dose of cough syrup. Mom looks like she wants to talk, so I quickly run out the door again, saying something about meeting Caitlin. I’ve done the FUNctional, now I can do the actual fun.
Just to spite everyone, I plan on embroidering this project with the words Darlington Is a Dick. Just thinking about him pastes images of pale walls, bright lights, and that heavy smell of antiseptic over every thought. This place is safe, and much like our house, as long as I stay here, she doesn’t need to keep tabs on me.
Medical Coach (7)
I scroll through Ryan’s messages as I go find Caitlin. It was foolish to ask him if he told his friends about the hospital. But I’m curious as to his answer.
Medical Coach
Some
But not a lot
My friend Sarah gets it
Sort of
Her girlfriend has juvenile arthritis
I lean against the wall, taking in what he has to say. There is a whole novel contained in the some and sort of. An unsure footing, and so you stay quiet but hope that maybe someday—not today and probably not tomorrow, but someday—they will get it.
Medical Coach
Why?
Trying to figure out what to tell Jack?
And just like that, he’s overstepped. I click my phone closed and head for the living room.
Caitlin’s claimed the couch and Luis sprawls out on the floor, a new beanie covering his bald head. I want to ask why he’s bald already if he hasn’t had chemo yet—but in the hospital, you don’t ask people what they’re in for.
“Here to save me or just hiding out?” Caitlin asks when I appear. Yarn loops easily over her fingers and she’s already started on a new hat.
“Save you from what?” I ask, dropping onto the couch. Our FUNctional trip has taken its toll and now every movement feels like I’m lifting two tons.
“He’s making me watch television.” Caitlin pours all the venom that I save for Darlington into that word.
“You do know that this is the golden age of television, right?” Luis says, raising his bushy eyebrows in question. Harsh winter light cuts through the window and Luis picks himself up to close the blinds.
Caitlin holds up a hand. “Please, TV is in the process of cannibalizing itself. There are a few episodes that are decent, but overall—dying art. Film is forever.”
I sink into the couch, letting their conversation play in the background. Ryan’s words stare up at me from my screen, creating conflicting feelings in my chest.
“Ellie,” she says, and squeezes my arm, the one still bruised from my gallium scan IV. I wince and shake her off. She’s crouched over me, her eyes fixed on my phone. “Why do you have a medical coach? Do you need me? Is this why you’re having surgery? Is this something of your mother’s?” Caitlin says. She starts off with mock hurt, but slowly the sense of You will answer this or else laces into every word. I feel a pang of guilt because I didn’t go to her. Caitlin is a pro at this life. The hospital hasn’t torn her life apart, she’s made it work for her. She gets me … but not how our lives are different. We are not science experiments; I can’t just replicate her success.
“No, although Mom would probably pay for the service,” I say.
Luis holds up a hand, like he’s asking a question. “I’m sorry, medical coach? Is that a thing?”
“No,” Caitlin and I say together. Luis nods and motions for us to continue.
“It’s nothing.”
“How is everything in your life nothing? ‘My mom blogs about me’—eh, whatevs. ‘I have a rare genetic disease’—you know, it happens. ‘I have a medical coach’—doesn’t everybody?” Each question is punctuated by a strong jab of her crochet hook. And just like that, she took it too far.
“We can always practice for your TV gig.”
Caitlin gives me a look that dares me to cross her and she’ll find new ways to kill someone with a crochet hook.
“You can’t hate TV so much that you refuse to go on it. I am going to help her overcome that.”
Caitlin and I lock eyes, both completely unwilling to move from our position, and for the first time, I feel like we are on the same footing. “Can we both agree that was terrible phrasing?”
“Fine.” I wave it away, not willing to get in a fight about the politics of using overcome in regard to us. People love to say things like You can overcome your disability. Caitlin did a whole month just on the ableism behind everyday phrases. “But you know it would be great publicity for A Patient Life.”
The words seem to scrape the inside of my throat. I want Caitlin’s message out there, because at least it’s her life and she’s choosing it.
“After everything I found out today—I demand to be told what’s going on,” Caitlin says, ignoring the conversation and turning the spotlight on me. I just glare at her. Caitlin squares her shoulders, ready for battle, and pulls out her phone. “Should I just call your mom and tell her what you really think about the blog?”
“You wouldn’t.…”
Her finger hits the button.
“It’s just Ryan,” I say before the call can even connect.
“Ryan—the guy from dinner Ryan? Newer than me, how can he be a medical coach?” Luis asks.
Caitlin holds up a hand to stop me, as if this news is too much for her to handle. “Ellie, are we friends? What makes you go to Ryan—the one who was like Oh doctors, they’re always right! And you didn’t lead with that? Are we still even friends?”
I roll my eyes. Caitlin is one hundred percent overreacting, which for her is just reacting. “Do I need to answer your first question, Caitlin?”
“Yeah, I would like group verification. With witnesses.”
Luis gives a two-finger wave to show he’s listening.
“He showed up last night and we … started talking.” I shrug; this is not a big deal. The last thing I need is for Ryan and Caitlin to form a united Team Doctor or something.
“So this is while you were alone—watching that space thing?”
“That show is actually brilliant.”
“Oooh, which show?” Luis asks.
“Battlestar Galactica,” I say at the same time that Caitlin says:
“Not important.”
“Never fear, I am here to settle any and all TV disputes.” Luis hits pause on the TV show in progress and turns around to give us his full attention. It’s like he’s suddenly become the judge in the case of our friendship.
Caitlin holds up her crochet hook to silence him. “Back to the original question. Why is Ryan—who you are on a first-name basis with—texting you? And why was I not informed immediately? Did he know you were having surgery first?”
“You’re having surgery too?” Luis says, brightening.
I look to Luis for help. Can’t he be my way out of this like he was the last time? But he holds up both hands in a sign of surrender. There is no way he’s stepping between me and Caitlin, and honestly, I can’t blame him. When Caitlin gets on a roll, it’s best to just lie down or get out of her way.
Caitlin glares at him. This is no time for interfering, and he seems to fear Caitlin and her hook more than wanting to help me distract her.
“He just sat down, what was I supposed to do—say no, go somewhere else?”
“Yes, you tell him he is not welcome. That doctor’s orders say something else. Why would you take advice from him?”
I pick at the edge of my phone case. A message pops up from Brooke:
Brooke
Probably a long shot …
any chance of you making Jack’s concert at the Morelands this weekend?
My breath stops when I see Jack’s name. It’s still a raw emotion, and it makes me miss him and what we had. I’m sure Ryan would be like Try to figure something out. There’s a small—and I mean small—chance Mom might let me go to the Moreland Mall this weekend.
“He’s just helping me with stuff.”
“Oooooh, stuff?” Luis asks, raising his eyebrows at me. Caitlin and I both roll our eyes and look at him. Luis just holds up his hands in apology, recognizing the line he crossed.
Caitlin turns to Luis. “And do you know how I found out that my friend of five years and over thirty hospital visits is having surgery? My mother.”
Luis makes a lemon-sucker face. “That’s low.” They both focus on me, waiting for my brilliant answer that will excuse all of this.
“It’s not a done deal, and if…” The sentence dies on my tongue, because it may happen. If I want to get Jack back. If I want my life back.
“Hey guys,” Veronica says, leaning over the partial wall.
“What’s up?” Luis says as Caitlin and I try to untangle ourselves from our argument. Luis seems to shrug it off without a second thought, his whole body seeming to focus on Veronica. She pulls out a flyer and holds it up. “Anyone feel like a trip to the Moreland Mall this weekend?”
Brooke, you had the perfect timing.… This will be just the chance I need to see Jack and clear everything up before I get back home.
“It can be my goodbye tumor trip,” Luis says.
“Let’s do it.”
Caitlin looks at me and shakes her crochet hook, and I swear she’s going to ask me if this is about a boy. Because when have I ever been up for Home-sanctioned activities? But after several severe looks she determines I must be sane, because she turns to Veronica. “Fine. Count us in.”