Locked Wheels

Chapter 7

"Alright, now this may feel a little bit claustrophobic, but I need you to try to hold your breath and stay as still as possible for me, ok?"

I nodded from where I lay on the table, hoping the nurse in the other room could see me. There was a pause as she turned away from the speaker to turn on the MRI machine, and then the table began to tremble a bit as it thrummed to life. I felt myself slowly begin to roll backwards into the gaping tunnel of the machine. My surroundings went dark and even though I wasn't usually afraid of tight spaces, my breath caught in my throat and my palms started to tingle. I closed my eyes.

This, according to Dirk on the way over, was the start of the series of appointments and tests and monitoring that would take place over the next five or so months until my surgery. To make sure no unwanted or rapid growth was occurring, as Dr. Scratch had put it. Basically, they were gonna comb through every cell of my body twice a month for five months to make sure no other tumors had suddenly popped up as well, or to make sure that the one I already had didn't get too big or suddenly turn cancerous. All it really meant to me was even more doctor's visits and poking and prodding and scanning than usual. I was understandably underwhelmed.

I let out a short exhale of breath as I opened my eyes, staring at the pale beige interior of the tube. They were giving me a full body scan this time, and it was taking for-fucking-ever. The tightness of the tunnel was starting to get to me, and I had to breathe as shallowly as possible. The nurse in the other room kept murmuring over the speaker for me to stay calm. I kind of wanted to punch her. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I started moving in the opposite direction and I was out. I let out an involuntary sigh of relief as the nurses helped me into my wheelchair. It wasn't that I had much of a real problem with small spaces, but at the same time, the front seat of a car does get noticeably smaller when you push the dash forward, and 11-year-olds tend to be impressionable.

"Hey," I said to Dirk as they wheeled me back to the examination room where they'd left him. "Looks like they're gonna have to amputate."

"Don't make jokes like that in a hospital," he murmured, not looking up from his phone.

"Fine. But when they looked at my legs, every single one of the nurses started salivating uncontrollably. I don't know if this is some kind of secret nursing school thing or what, and I'm not saying they're gonna take 'em, but if I come home with no legs, that's why. Is that better phrasing?"

"Yes."

I sat back in my wheelchair, looming down and picking at the fabric of my gown. As we waited for the doctor to call us back, the silence in the room grew and grew until I could hardly breathe, so I quietly mumbled, "Fall risk."

"Hmm?"

"Fall risk," I said a little louder. "R-remember? When that kid in the next room over had a fall risk bracelet and I asked for one bec--"

"Because you said you couldn't stand on your own either," Dirk finished with a small half smile. "Yeah. I remember. Didn't the nurse just give you the, uh, the socks or something?"

I cracked a smile myself. "Yeah. And then I told her I couldn't feel my toes so it was worthless and she got all scared until she read my chart and then she just got mad at me."

Dirk chuckled a little to himself. "Yeah. That was a riot." He was quiet for a moment. "That... That was the first funny thing you'd said that trip. it was when I knew you were gonna be ok."

"Yeah." I could feel the smile start to falter on my face as the silence returned and my mind went back to the obvious. I clenched my jaw a bit, tugging on the edge of a hangnail as I searched for the right words. "W... What do think the, um... MRI's gonna find?"