If Only for the Summer
Two
“Honey, you should call your dad. It's a miracle you made it here in the first place.”
“I'm fine. I'm eighteen, I can handle myself."
“You came here coughing up blood, you could barely walk,” the nurse insisted. “You’re in no condition to drive yourself home.”
Henley took her phone from the table beside her bed with a glare towards the woman. It lost its effect as she started coughing.
Her dad picked up on the fourth ring, right before she was about to hang up and say he didn’t answer. “Henley? Where have you been? We were expecting you yesterday.”
“I’m fine, Dad. I’m just at the hospital.”
“The hospital? Henley, what happened?”
“I just had an asthma attack, I’m fine, I swear. I should be back up there by this afternoon.” She rolled her eyes at her dad’s terrible attempt at feigning concern. She wasn’t surprised that she could hear an obvious apathetic undertone in his voice. They hardly spoke since her dad had moved to Bethel, and Henley knew that the less association he had with his old family, the better off his new one was. But her mom had made this trip obligatory, and now the two were stuck with each other for the summer.
“How long will you be down there? We’ve waiting for a while, Henley, how much longer?”
Henley wanted to hang up. Instead she turned to the nurse. “When can I leave?”
“The doctor still has to run a few tests. After that, we’ll need to address the diagnosis and go from there. It’ll be a couple days before results are in, so you’ll need to come back we’ll base what we need to do on the results. But you’ll be able to leave by this afternoon.”
“I can leave today, but they’re going to want me back here,” Henley said into the phone to her dad.
“Call me when you’re on your way back up.” Henley’s dad hung up and she looked at the nurse.
“Let’s get this over with.”
-
Three days later, after a two hour drive to Minneapolis, Henley sat in a new hospital bed, as a nurse walked in with her dad. A moment later, Dr. Miller was introduced to Henley, carrying a clipboard and a stack of papers. Henley nodded at her dad briefly, then gave her attention to the doctor.
He smiled warmly, almost sympathetically, at Henley and she knew that he only had bad news for her. They wouldn’t have moved her all the way down to Minneapolis for a simple asthma attack. He shook hands with her dad, then sighed and glanced at his papers.
“There’s really no easy way to tell you, Henley, but you have cystic fibrosis.” She gave him a blank look. Dr. Miller smiled weakly and continued. “Cystic fibrosis affects the cells that produce mucus, sweat and digestive juices. In people with cystic fibrosis, a defective gene causes the secretions to become thick and sticky. The secretions plug up tubes, ducts and passageways, especially in the lungs and pancreas. Essentially, it affects breathing and the fluids your body usually produces.”
“So, what’s the cure?” Henley’s dad snapped.
Dr. Miller laughed nervously and flipped through his papers. “There is none.” Henley choked on her water, coughing as the nurse clapped on her back. “Right now, the most pressing case concerning your CF is the condition of your lungs. They’re deteriorating quickly, so we’ll be putting you on the transplant list for a new set. As for your pancreas, for now, prescriptions to manage its job will do.”
As Dr. Miller finished, the nurse pulled an oxygen tank from behind the doorway of Henley’s room. “Your blood oxygen level was very low in your tests, so we’re going to have you wear this.” The nurse showed Henley how to put in on first, then handed the cannula to her. Henley replaced the cannula she had already been wearing with the new one attached to the portable tank.
After two other doctors and a nutritionist came by the room throughout the day, Henley and her dad left the hospital. The two walked to the parking lot together, silently, then separated toward their own cars.
Henley struggled as she tried to shove the oxygen tank into the truck before her. As she finally got into the truck, she huffed and shoved at the tank to get it situated in the passenger's seat. She sighed as she realized she would have to get used to it.
-
As Henley followed her dad up the dirt road she had gotten lost on days ago, she was careful to note exactly how they got from the bottom of the hill to the house at the top.
Halfway up, she saw where she had made the wrong turn the other night. There was a cloud of dirt suspended in the air, like someone had just driven down that way. She wondered what was so important that was down that road for the rest of the drive.
Before she could even manage to get out of the truck with her oxygen tank, her dad, surprisingly, was already at her side, helping her down from the cab of the truck. As soon as she was down, he opened the back door to get to Henley’s stuff. A boy no more than thirteen was next to her dad a moment later, and he took two of her four bags.
“I can handle it, really,” she offered. Her dad shook his head, not even looking at her, and he made his way to the front door. Out on the porch of the woodland manor was his wife and his two kids—Henley’s step-siblings.
They all stared as she walked and the tank behind her slammed against each step up to the porch. As she passed, she ignored their gazes, keeping her eyes focused on the front door ahead of her.
Henley’s dad dropped off her stuff in the spare room she would be claiming for the rest of the summer, and she took a spot on the bed. She glanced around the room, with its bare walls and furniture that had obviously been untouched for months, if not longer.
Henley fiddled with the tube that connected to the tank that sat on the floor next to her before she got up and began moving her clothes and other stuff into their new spots.
She could hear her dad’s family chattering from the floor below her, but she chose to turn on music and ignore it. As Henley unpacked, she sang along to the songs. Though, she got frustrated when she had to stop more than once to catch her breath, and shut the music off.
Henley tossed the shirt she was still holding back into the bag, then pulled the oxygen tank onto her new bed and sprawled out. Only a few minutes later, she was asleep.
“I'm fine. I'm eighteen, I can handle myself."
“You came here coughing up blood, you could barely walk,” the nurse insisted. “You’re in no condition to drive yourself home.”
Henley took her phone from the table beside her bed with a glare towards the woman. It lost its effect as she started coughing.
Her dad picked up on the fourth ring, right before she was about to hang up and say he didn’t answer. “Henley? Where have you been? We were expecting you yesterday.”
“I’m fine, Dad. I’m just at the hospital.”
“The hospital? Henley, what happened?”
“I just had an asthma attack, I’m fine, I swear. I should be back up there by this afternoon.” She rolled her eyes at her dad’s terrible attempt at feigning concern. She wasn’t surprised that she could hear an obvious apathetic undertone in his voice. They hardly spoke since her dad had moved to Bethel, and Henley knew that the less association he had with his old family, the better off his new one was. But her mom had made this trip obligatory, and now the two were stuck with each other for the summer.
“How long will you be down there? We’ve waiting for a while, Henley, how much longer?”
Henley wanted to hang up. Instead she turned to the nurse. “When can I leave?”
“The doctor still has to run a few tests. After that, we’ll need to address the diagnosis and go from there. It’ll be a couple days before results are in, so you’ll need to come back we’ll base what we need to do on the results. But you’ll be able to leave by this afternoon.”
“I can leave today, but they’re going to want me back here,” Henley said into the phone to her dad.
“Call me when you’re on your way back up.” Henley’s dad hung up and she looked at the nurse.
“Let’s get this over with.”
-
Three days later, after a two hour drive to Minneapolis, Henley sat in a new hospital bed, as a nurse walked in with her dad. A moment later, Dr. Miller was introduced to Henley, carrying a clipboard and a stack of papers. Henley nodded at her dad briefly, then gave her attention to the doctor.
He smiled warmly, almost sympathetically, at Henley and she knew that he only had bad news for her. They wouldn’t have moved her all the way down to Minneapolis for a simple asthma attack. He shook hands with her dad, then sighed and glanced at his papers.
“There’s really no easy way to tell you, Henley, but you have cystic fibrosis.” She gave him a blank look. Dr. Miller smiled weakly and continued. “Cystic fibrosis affects the cells that produce mucus, sweat and digestive juices. In people with cystic fibrosis, a defective gene causes the secretions to become thick and sticky. The secretions plug up tubes, ducts and passageways, especially in the lungs and pancreas. Essentially, it affects breathing and the fluids your body usually produces.”
“So, what’s the cure?” Henley’s dad snapped.
Dr. Miller laughed nervously and flipped through his papers. “There is none.” Henley choked on her water, coughing as the nurse clapped on her back. “Right now, the most pressing case concerning your CF is the condition of your lungs. They’re deteriorating quickly, so we’ll be putting you on the transplant list for a new set. As for your pancreas, for now, prescriptions to manage its job will do.”
As Dr. Miller finished, the nurse pulled an oxygen tank from behind the doorway of Henley’s room. “Your blood oxygen level was very low in your tests, so we’re going to have you wear this.” The nurse showed Henley how to put in on first, then handed the cannula to her. Henley replaced the cannula she had already been wearing with the new one attached to the portable tank.
After two other doctors and a nutritionist came by the room throughout the day, Henley and her dad left the hospital. The two walked to the parking lot together, silently, then separated toward their own cars.
Henley struggled as she tried to shove the oxygen tank into the truck before her. As she finally got into the truck, she huffed and shoved at the tank to get it situated in the passenger's seat. She sighed as she realized she would have to get used to it.
-
As Henley followed her dad up the dirt road she had gotten lost on days ago, she was careful to note exactly how they got from the bottom of the hill to the house at the top.
Halfway up, she saw where she had made the wrong turn the other night. There was a cloud of dirt suspended in the air, like someone had just driven down that way. She wondered what was so important that was down that road for the rest of the drive.
Before she could even manage to get out of the truck with her oxygen tank, her dad, surprisingly, was already at her side, helping her down from the cab of the truck. As soon as she was down, he opened the back door to get to Henley’s stuff. A boy no more than thirteen was next to her dad a moment later, and he took two of her four bags.
“I can handle it, really,” she offered. Her dad shook his head, not even looking at her, and he made his way to the front door. Out on the porch of the woodland manor was his wife and his two kids—Henley’s step-siblings.
They all stared as she walked and the tank behind her slammed against each step up to the porch. As she passed, she ignored their gazes, keeping her eyes focused on the front door ahead of her.
Henley’s dad dropped off her stuff in the spare room she would be claiming for the rest of the summer, and she took a spot on the bed. She glanced around the room, with its bare walls and furniture that had obviously been untouched for months, if not longer.
Henley fiddled with the tube that connected to the tank that sat on the floor next to her before she got up and began moving her clothes and other stuff into their new spots.
She could hear her dad’s family chattering from the floor below her, but she chose to turn on music and ignore it. As Henley unpacked, she sang along to the songs. Though, she got frustrated when she had to stop more than once to catch her breath, and shut the music off.
Henley tossed the shirt she was still holding back into the bag, then pulled the oxygen tank onto her new bed and sprawled out. Only a few minutes later, she was asleep.