Band X

Chapter 16: Flexible Bones

The test is over and we have a winner, if you can call any of this winning. I have Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome or POTS, for short. According to Dr. Phillips, it's a condition that affects my blood flow and involves the autonomic nervous system and sympathetic nervous system. I'm not sure what all of this means yet so you can be sure I'll be visiting Dr. Google soon to make sure I really scare myself and so I can worry about the absolute worst case scenarios.

As though he can read my mind, Dr. Phillips says he'll give my parents all the information I need and that I should not look up the condition online.  I saw the paper he handed to my father and it had a really long list of things we can do to help me get through my life with this weird condition. It all looks like it's too much, honestly, and I'm not sure I'm up to trying a ton of things just so I can possibly have a normal life. Maybe it won't be so bad if I pass out all the time. I'll just hang out in my room like I always do and crash on my bed when POTS shows up and kicks my ass.

My heart skips a beat when I remember I don't just sit in my room anymore. I have friends who are counting on me and I'm now confident that I'll let them down. The battle of the bands is in one week and not only do we need to practice, we still don't have a name for the band. My stomach knots up in a tight ball
How the hell am I going to do all this? What if I crash right in the middle of a set? How can everyone depend on me? At least I know the answer to that last one. They can't.

Isabelle popped her head in my room. "Hey! How are you? Ready for our big gig?" It's like she can read my mind and heard me asking the questions in my head. I'm so not ready to sing but I'm also not ready to tell Isabelle that. She's so intense. All she thinks about is the band and how big we can get if we win the contest. 

Even though she says she understands what I'm going through and that she feels sorry for me, I don't think she really gets it. How could she? She doesn't have what I have. She doesn't even have one sick family member so this is all new to her.

I try to look enthusiastic but when I look in my dresser mirror, my smile seems forced. Painful even. "Sure!" I sound way too perky which means Isabelle will know something is up. 

She sighs dramatically and flops on to my bed. Stares at the ceiling and starts laughing. What the hell are you laughing at I ask? She rolls over and stares at me. I was really worried for a minute there I honestly didn't think that you were going to be able to sing with the band. I'm a little shocked but she doesn't seem to notice my incredibly fake reply.

Isabelle starts chattering away, talking faster and faster, picking up speed, waving her hands in the air as she makes grand plans. Plans that might not include me.

"So, tomorrow, we'll meet at my house and rehearse a few times and then head to the school for the contest."

I start to speak and she holds up her hand inches from my face. "I know what you're going to say. We still don't have a name for our band. I put down Band X on the entry form because they told me I had to have something on there but then I told them that we'd give them our real name just as soon as we think of it. 

The guy wasn't too happy about that but I told him, hey, there isn't anything I can do about it. No one in this band can make a decision. Ever. I thought he was going to say no but he kind of rolled his eyes, kind of like you're doing now, and told me that calling ourselves Band X until we get a real name was OK."

Isabelle abruptly stops talking, jumps off my bed, and stares down at me with her hands on her hips. 

"Wait. Why are you rolling your eyes? I mean I get why the guy rolled his eyes at me because I was bugging him." She cocks head to the side and narrows her own eyes at me. "Am I bugging you?"