Don't Forget About the Roses

Time to Breathe

The Next Day

I'd been thinking a lot about what Izzy had said, and I started to wonder how long it would be before I knew whether or not I was going to die. Before then, I'd never really given it much thought, death I mean. Being as young as I was and recently out of college, I still thought I was invincible.

Dr. Cole, who's name I finally learn, had given me a few days to gather my thoughts before starting treatment. AML moved fast and she didn't want to wait much longer than that.

Mr. Rose gave me the next few days off, saying he could take the girls himself after having been gone for nearly a month on business for the embassy.

And since I needed time to think, the park seemed like a good place to do it.

Sitting on my usual bench, I sipped at a latte from Dunkin's. I'd been doing fat free for the last few months, but as of now that didn't seem all that important.

When I got tired of sitting, which I usually did eventually, I started walking down the path to the second bench further down the way. And it was there that I encounter an interesting sight--a guy, maybe just a little bit older than me, struggling to get his wheelchair to sit upright again.

"Umm...do you need some help?"

"No, that's alright, I should really figure this out myself."

I walked closer, standing right in front of him by the time he finally righted himself. Holding out his hand he said, "Ian Rosa." His eyes seemed to say "And you are?".

I told he offered hand. "Lauren Brooks."

"Well, Ms. Brooks, it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise, so--"

"Why was I stuck almost upside down?" I nodded. "New chair. Takes a little while to get used to."

"Oh, so you have D--"

"Becker Muscular Dystrophy actually, similar to Duchenne, but not quite as bad."

"So what are you doing here?"

"Same as you I guess."

"So what are you thinking about?"

"Life I guess. I know it's sort of a cop out, but I'm just trying to figure out what to do with my life. My father, well, he just thinks I should be having fun. Not that he ever really pays much attention." He slapped his face into his hands. "Listen, I'm sorry. Here I am ranting and you were just being nice."

I felt myself blush, just the tiniest bit and I hoped he couldn't see it. "You know, I don't mind a bit, because this is the best conversation I've had in a long time." I didn't tell him that his competition was pre pubescent girls. "So, do you want to go on a walk?"

"Ok." And that was it. Everyone of my two days left I spent walking with Ian in the park, just talking. And you know what, it felt great.