Memories Bequeathed

Chapter 6

I remember.

I remember knowing. I knew that something was off. I knew that something was wrong before I was even told. It had something to do with the whispers constantly flying around me. They were always hovering close by, the voices flittering out of hearing range. My parents constantly spoke in hushed tones. My father was constantly running off to his bedroom, wanting to be alone. My mother called up her friends on the phone, often choking up and getting teary. She would hang up when she saw me and leave the room hurriedly.

My voice began to shake every time I tried to speak, and I was always nervous. I had no idea what was going on. No one would tell me anything. When I would ask what was going on, my mother would let out a strangled sob and buried her face in her hands. She shook, fearful: of her family's future and her daughter's reaction to the news. She was fearful of the challenges ahead, and fearful of how people will react when they hear. My father, on the other hand, took out his frustration and pain by yelling. He would tell me, demanding me, to mind my own business.

What I did not know was that while I was in school, in the middle of my eighth grade year, my father had been diagnosed with cancer. But, it was different. It wasn't like you read about or see in movies. It was scary. All of the sudden there was the possibility of death. It was real.

The doctors didn't find it early. He didn't go through years of chemo. It wasn't dispersed throughout his entire body. No. The doctors didn't even know it was cancer until after it was removed. He had an interesting case.

The doctors went back and forth with their thoughts. When the tumor was first discovered, they said that it was cancer. Then, after some tests, they concluded that it was benign. They then decided on cancer, and after extensive thought decided upon it being benign.They were wrong.

What is there to do?

It wasn't bad, though. He was healthy.

It wasn't that bad. They discovered it in February. In May, they planned to operate and in one painfully long surgery, they would remove the cancerous tumor.

That's how my father explained it to us

"It's easy. I'm healthy. It isn't bad. Others have it worse. Don't worry about me." He'd say.

However, cancer is cancer no matter what, and surgery is risky no matter the conditions, and hospital stays are always hard on the family - especially the little ones... especially on me.

The surgery itself was nine hours long.

I was at home, taking care of the household while my mother was sat in the waiting room.

Every second was painful. Every minute was excruciatingly long.

I remember having nothing to do but sit in agony. I had to do something. Sera was in class, so I couldn't talk to her. But, Tina was available. She was on a plane to France; she was on a plane with wifi and had all the time in the world. So I texted her, "My dad is going into surgery now. I'm very scared." No response. It took her thirty minutes to respond, "kk". She didn't even ask what surgery he was going into. "Tina," I wrote, "What if something happens while he is being operated on? Your dad is a doctor, what are the odds of them making a fatal mistake?" No response. So I texted her again,"Tina? You there?" Nothing. "Tina?" Then she answered. She answered saying, "Plz stop txting me, ur messing up my game."

So, my friends couldn't help me.

I was too much of a bother.

So, I called my mom who was in the hospital.

Every hour I called to check in.

Every hour I was disappointed.

Every hour I was shocked.

Every hour I lost hope, even though it was supposed to be a relatively safe surgery.

Every hour my mother would hang up with the promise to call with news and if she didn't, then I should continue calling as I had been.

Every hour I waited.

one hour

two hours

three hours

four hours

five hours

six hours

seven hours

eight hours

nine hours

In the ninth hour I called my mother. It went straight to voicemail.

"Shit, what happened?!" I remember thinking that as I panicked. She had answered every time prior to this call.

My heart raced.

My head spun.

My tears fell.

A loud noise dragged me out of my grief: a cell phone ringing... my mom.

She had news.

She told me that, finally, the surgeon walked out of the operating room. She told me that he looked grim and worn down, and there was blood all over him. His scrubs were covered in my father's blood.

Then he told her, and she told me.

He told her, and she told me, that, from what they could tell, everything went well.

From their current view, it was a success and they removed the cancerous tumor.

All was well.

At 4:30 PM, the minute the last bell rings at school, I got a text from Sera.

"Everything okay?"

I responded, "Yes. Everything is just fine."

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Author's Note

Chapter six is here! Thank you for reading all this time and sticking with me. 

Don't forget to comment and vote. You are greatly appreciated.

- NerdilyNerdy