Clever Girl

Chapter 24: "There's no reason to panic."

"Not a chronic cough, but I have coughed up blood recently. For the rest . . . yes," my mother responds, her tone hinting at fear as well. 

"So what does that mean?" I ask.

"I can't say for certain now. These tests will give us a better picture."

"And how much would all that cost?"

"I will have the hospital call you with the full financial breakdown in the next couple of days. Since your father has insurance it will be based on that as well."

"Okay, but roughly? Can't you give me a ball-park?"

"Roughly . . ." her voice trails, and I brace myself for impact. "Costs can vary between six-hundred to five-thousand a month, depending on what percentage is covered by insurance. There are premiums to consider, and cost-sharing. It's best not to rely on these figures until everything is calculated."

"Per month? What will they be testing for, exactly? I've run all the calculations for MS patients, on-going care and standard tests. I also keep track of all the bills we've received so far, and nothing's come close to five-thousand in a single month."

"Veronica, stop pestering the doctor," my mother interjects. "There's no reason to panic."

"But I want to know what they're testing you for. It's something specific, obviously."

"When the tests are done, then we'll know. Please let Dr. Manning continue with the appointment now."

When Dr. Manning leaves, it takes a great deal of strength for me not to check the symptoms she had listed online, to see what results will populate. Google will most likely threaten me with the worst case scenario, and I can't let that fuel my fear. I need to focus on work, on the costs, and nothing else. One thing I am thankful for is that my mother has finally agreed to leave the house, since the x-rays, scans and tests can't be done at home. So at least I can feel a bit of ease in that regard. 

As Monday turns into Tuesday, then evolves into Wednesday, and knocks on Thursday's door, I spend every waking hour consumed with working. There isn't a single minute that isn't accounted for. Even for dinner, I've been taking out everything we've had stored in our freezer and defrosting stuff like pizza pockets for Matty, and vegetables and chicken for my parents, with little to no time to actually prepare anything decent. 

Both Will and Jay try to contact me, and while for Will I do respond when it's strictly paper related, I ignore Jay completely. I can't let anything or anyone distract me. 

All the while, I try not to spiral. Because one momentary slip and I will probably sink into the deepest corners of my mind, where horror and anxiety and hopelessness collide. 

***

Friday promises the end of the two-week trial that my parents had agreed to. With everything happening so fast now, I'm confident that they won't make me go back, that they finally understand why I need to be exactly where I am now. 

They sit me down after dinner, and I hold my breath for the decision. 

"Veronica, we've decided that it would be best for you to go back to school," my father says.

His words ring through my mind, breaking apart my confidence. I sink into my seat, and my head starts to spin. Did he really just say what I think he said? Or did I imagine it? "Wh-what? But . . . what about mom? What about all the money I've made in the last two weeks?"

"We feel it's still best for you to re-enroll. You gave us two weeks, and we agreed that whatever our decision would be, you'd respect it."

"But why? Why'd you decide this? School isn't for everyone. There are lots of very successful people in the world who didn't graduate high school, but still made something of themselves. Why can't you let me do that, especially since I have so many reasons to not go back?"

"This isn't about school itself. This is about you living your own, separate life. With your mother's illness deteriorating, and with my condition, we see you slowly sinking further and further into a state of apathy - not towards us, but towards yourself.  We've already failed you up until this point, and we will not hold you back anymore. Whatever happens to us, the one thing that'll make us happy throughout all of it is to see you shine, in whatever setting that might be. But when every single thing you're doing is tied to this family, you'll never be your own person."

"That's absolute bullshit," I say as my throat becomes tight. I blink back tears, knowing that there isn't anything I can say to make them change their mind. How could they think I'm not my own person? "You can't make me go back. I won't."

"If you're an honest person, you won't go back on your word, Veronica. You promised."

An almost deranged feelings takes over, and before I can control it, I stand up in fury, "Then I'm breaking my promise, and you can't do anything about it."

I storm off before they can say anything else, as tears run down my cheeks. I know it in my heart that I'm being childish, that I should indeed follow through on my promise, but it's like I've been taken over by a vindictive spirit, unable to comply to anything except my own furious disappointment.