THE WORLD CAME CRASHING DOWN
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When the doctor told me that my sister had multiple sclerosis, she said it a tone that you might say "don't forget to pick up the kids from school". Was it that simple to her, or was Doctor Keith truly just heartless? In my frazzled I'd wanted to lash out at her, but I just slumped against the uncomfortable plastic chair and stared at a stain on the linoleum. Lizzie was too strong to have multiple sclerosis. She was too bold, too smart, too filled with life to have have this incurable disease.
Doctor Keith is patting my shoulder, trying to reassure me that they will give her the best treatment out there. This treatment will ensure she doesn't suffer as many attacks. This treatment would help her gain function after any rare attacks. This treatment, this treatment, this treatment and on and on with the bullshit a doctor must say to get their salary. Doctor Keith finally gets a hint and stops touching my shoulder. Straightening up to leave, so says one last thing. Lizzie has a progressive form of the disease, meaning it had developed over time.
But WHEN exactly? She was always my pain in the ass little sister, full of spunk from the day she was born. We were best friends and worst enemies until we just ended up being worst enemies. I hadn't seen her for months. Finally, we both got over our pride and set up a week to hangout and catch up.
But Lizzie wasn't feeling well during the whole time, and now I was wondering if she knew from the start, and all's I wanted was to turn back time and catch it at the exact moment this horrible impostor of a disease started to gain control over her body. I would drive it out. I would protect my baby sister, and all would be right in the world.
"You can't have Lizzie," I whisper, "I won't let you."
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When the doctor told me that my sister had multiple sclerosis, she said it a tone that you might say "don't forget to pick up the kids from school". Was it that simple to her, or was Doctor Keith truly just heartless? In my frazzled I'd wanted to lash out at her, but I just slumped against the uncomfortable plastic chair and stared at a stain on the linoleum. Lizzie was too strong to have multiple sclerosis. She was too bold, too smart, too filled with life to have have this incurable disease.
Doctor Keith is patting my shoulder, trying to reassure me that they will give her the best treatment out there. This treatment will ensure she doesn't suffer as many attacks. This treatment would help her gain function after any rare attacks. This treatment, this treatment, this treatment and on and on with the bullshit a doctor must say to get their salary. Doctor Keith finally gets a hint and stops touching my shoulder. Straightening up to leave, so says one last thing. Lizzie has a progressive form of the disease, meaning it had developed over time.
But WHEN exactly? She was always my pain in the ass little sister, full of spunk from the day she was born. We were best friends and worst enemies until we just ended up being worst enemies. I hadn't seen her for months. Finally, we both got over our pride and set up a week to hangout and catch up.
But Lizzie wasn't feeling well during the whole time, and now I was wondering if she knew from the start, and all's I wanted was to turn back time and catch it at the exact moment this horrible impostor of a disease started to gain control over her body. I would drive it out. I would protect my baby sister, and all would be right in the world.
"You can't have Lizzie," I whisper, "I won't let you."
