Chapter 12

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*Richelle POV*

I sat up in a hospital bed, propped up by pillows. I fidgeted with the IV in my left hand. Every time I flicked it, I could feel the little shot of pain as it shifted in my skin. It was pumping a significant amount of painkillers into my body.

My left leg, the one with the tumor, was propped up on a pillow without the Aircast. I could see the tumor bulging out of the area just above my ankle. It made me nauseous to look at.

My leg wasn't even strong enough to stand on. They had previously decided that the best course of action was to just keep my leg in an Aircast until amputation, because, chances were, if they tried to put me through physical therapy to get me walking without the Aircast, as aggressive as the tumor was, I would probably break my leg again before physical therapy had any positive outcomes.

Sadie and my mother sat on my left, Gabby and my father on my right. Everything was quiet. Solemn, I suppose. I didn't like it. I didn't care that I was about to have my leg chopped off, I don't like silence.

"Does camp sound like it'll be cool?" I asked, breaking the silence.

Sadie looked up at me, surprised.

I rolled my eyes. "What- you expected me to stay quiet?"

Sadie shrugged. "How do you feel?"

"Crappy," I said. "Now answer my question."

Sadie sighed a little. "It was good, I guess."

"You guess?" I arched an eyebrow.

"Ally was there," Sadie said.

"Oh," I fell silent. There was the problem. Sadie and Ally didn't get along at all. Sadie had already filled me in on everything. I opened my mouth to respond to Sadie when my surgeon walked in.

"Hey Richelle," Dr. Danforth said, smiling at me.

I tried to smile back. "Hello there."

"Are you ready?" Dr. Danforth asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What am I supposed to say to that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in reply.

"You don't have to tell me you are," Dr. Danforth assured me. "I'll take good care of you. I promise."

I nodded. "Okay then." I was rapidly drifting away, straining against the holds of anesthesia. "I'm ready. Let's do this."

Then I drifted off.

I woke up feeling drowsy and a little bit loopy, according to my sister. Sadie and my mother sat in recovery with me. Gabby was too young, and Dad had to take her outside.

A blanket covered most of my body. An IV ran through my hand administering, what I assumed and what I hoped was a hefty amount of pain medication. I felt a small tickle, a bit like a flutter in my nose. I reached up and felt the nasal cannula around my head administering a liter of oxygen to my lungs. Why I needed oxygen to my lungs after my leg got cut off is something I can't tell you.

"How are you?" Sadie asked.

"I just got my leg cut off," I said. "What is that question supposed to mean?"

Sadie shrugged.

"So how do you feel?" Mom asked me gently.

"Emotional," I croaked. "And tired. Very, very tired."

"I want to see her leg," Sadie said.

"Wow, Sadie," I said groggily. "I just had a life-altering surgery and your first request is to see my leg."

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