Page 58 of Bad Boys Don’t Date Clumsy Girls

Chapter Twenty-Two

The tests take too long to schedule, the results aren’t immediate, and Joel’s terse attitude isn’t doing Mom any good. So, we go home with the doctor’s promise that he will text Joel with updates.

Joel doesn’t have to work tonight, but we both have homework, so we shut ourselves into our rooms. I find it ironic that Joel and I both hung our “IN” signs on our doorknobs even though Mom clearly isn’t coming home to be bothered by the lack of them.

I text my friends to let them know what’s happening even though I don’t have any answers or even a diagnosis at this point. Sam asks if I want to hang out at her house, but I decline. When I finish my homework, I flop onto the bed and stare up at the ceiling.

I have a bad feeling about what’s happening with Mom. It isn’t as if I’ve displayed unusual instincts in the past, so my bad feeling is probably anxiety, but I still feel like Mom is probably really sick. How can a person drink that much for that long and not become sick? But it doesn’t sound like her liver, which would make the most sense for an alcoholic. Regardless, I’m scared. Even with my fear of her drunk driving, I’ve never really thought about what it would be like to lose her before. What if whatever is wrong with her now is fatal?

What would that mean for me? Would it be better to live my last year at home with only Grandma? Or would it be worse? Grandma has become entirely apathetic to me and Joel. We’re only pawns she uses to make Mom mad. If Mom dies, would Grandma sell the house and move? It wouldn’t be horrible. I could move in with Sam. I rub my temples to relieve some stress.

There’s a gentle knock on the door and Joel pops his head in. “The doctor wants to video chat with us.” Joel flashes his phone to show me the doctor on the screen.

“Okay.” I sit up and Joel perches on the bed beside me. He holds the phone so that we are both in view of the camera. “Hi, Dr. Hishkin.”

“Hello Ava. I’m afraid I have some bad news for the two of you.”

I shift closer to Joel until our shoulders are pressed together.

“Your mom has two brain tumors. One is at the back of the brain and is the reason she’s been falling. The other is at the front of the brain, which caused the gibberish she spoke yesterday, Joel. That one is an aggressive brain tumor. It’s probably been developing for about six months. Left to grow, it would be fatal.”

We stare at the doctor for a while before Joel finally asks, “What are you saying?”

Dr. Hishkin sighs. “We need to operate immediately.”

“To remove them?” Joel asks. “Will she be okay?”

“There are certainly some inherent risks with the procedure, but it is a rather common surgery that I have performed hundreds of times, so her prognosis is good. The tumors appear to be very accessible, though we won’t know for sure until we get in there.”

I don’t know how to feel about the news. Of course, it’s awful, but it’s so unexpected that I’m having a difficult time processing it. When you spend years thinking you know what’s wrong with someone and then something unrelated becomes the issue, it’s very confusing. This diagnosis doesn’t erase her years of drinking and neglect, but it somehow changes things. I just have no clue how. Instead of watching the doctor, I’m watching my brother’s reaction. He looks as stunned as I do.

“I’ve told your mother,” Dr. Hishkin continues. “She has agreed to the surgery as soon as possible. Cora has listed you as her primary contact, Joel, so I will call you when we know more about when the surgery will be. We can go over the care she will require and what kind of recovery time to expect when we know that date, but I would expect it to be early this week.”

Joel stares at his hands clasped in his lap. “So, her behavior recently has been because of these tumors.”

As soon as he asks it, I’m relieved. I need to know the answer too.

Dr. Hishkin shifts forward. “Yes, but it sounds like there are other issues for her to tackle. I wish I could say this will fix them, but if she has a drinking problem or some other dependency, those are unrelated to this issue. She will be forced to dry out, as it were, while she is in the hospital, and depending on your situation at home, she might have a difficult time acquiring what she craves during recovery and rehabilitation as well. The only thing you can hope for is that she gets help for the situation while she is clean.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Joel’s slumped shoulders and quiet tone worry me. I thread my fingers through his and squeeze, hoping to convey that I’m with him one hundred percent.

“Do either of you have any questions for me?”

Joel looks at me and I shrug. “I have no idea.”

He laughs humorlessly. “Me neither, sis. But I guess now that I’m eighteen, Grandma no longer has to deal with this stuff.”

“Oh,” I breathe. “That’s why.”

“We’ll talk again soon. I’m sure questions will pop up. Just make note of them when you think of them and we can go through your list next time I call,” Dr. Hishkin says.

“Will do. Thanks, Doc.”

The man’s smile is sad. “I’m sorry to have to dump all of this on you. The hospital has an excellent patient advocate program. Your mom won’t be sent home without you being armed with all the information you need, and they will help her navigate insurance and the financial end too. But the most important thing is to get her better.”

Joel nods.

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