"Is there anything I can do? Anything?" I ask. My mum shakes her head in negative. "You see" she begins, "Alzheimer's has no cure. But it can be slowed down using certain medications. Slowing it down enough to make me live a few more years since I'm on the cusp of mild and moderate. Also, Alzheimer's is going to make me a bit more irritated so bear with me." She smiles and it's the saddest thing I've ever seen. "Yes okay, alright. You know what mum? I'm going to call up Julie. She's a med student. She should know about this stuff." I say slowly, trying not to panic. I tried so hard all these years to keep the panic at bay. The rising swell of anxiety, the hollow pit in the stomach, the crashing down I've felt all that. Not wanting to stress my mum out, I leave the living room. In my bedroom, I feel like I'm seven again. Sitting in a room similar to this, while screams went on the outside, the dishes crashed and suddenly it went silent. Dead silence. The door was a barrier and I should've never crossed it. A knock on the door and I'm back to reality. "Y/N dear, do you want some food?" I reply in negative and strain my ears as my mum's foot steps recced back into the dark of the house. I pick up my phone.
50 unread messages from Julie
Shit, I didn't even text Julie saying that I had reached. Quickly, I dial her number. She picks up on the second ring.
"YOU STUPID FUCKING IDIOT. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? ARE YOU EVEN ALIVE?WHAT THE FUCK? I MESSAGED YOU LIKE 50 TIMES. WERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? IS EVERYTHING FINE?"
Julie is a loud speaker and I've to hold my phone away from my ear. Even at an arm's length I can feel her shouting at me all the way from The United Kingdom.
"Hey girl. I am fine. I landed like two hours ago and I couldn't catch the signal. Nothing's fine by the way."
"Why?" she asks dread pooling in her voice.
"My mum has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's stage 2. This isn't even recent. She got her reports back in August last year." Even from miles away, I can hear the silence on the other side of the phone. I picture her biting her nails, thinking about what she could make of this information.
"Has she started on her medications? If possible, can you send me her reports? A family friend of mine's a neurologist. He might be able to help."
"Yeah sure. I'll send them to you. Could you do me another favor? Can you ping my college head to mail me my marksheets but like physical copies? I presume we still use them? " She replies in affirmative and like the mother she is asks me to try to sleep. Right, Jet lag. She hangs up the phone and I throw mine on the bedstand which surprisingly does not even have a single particle of dust clinging to it. I braid my hair and try to fall into a fitful sleep.
YOU ARE READING
The Language Of Love
同人小说Freshly graduated from Oxford with a degree in English, Y/N returns to South Korea to support her mother during a challenging time - her mother's recent Alzheimer's diagnosis. In a twist of fate, she finds herself employed as a tutor and translator...
