by Coco Simon
We checked in at the desk and were directed to the preop area. As we walked, Jake held my hand in one hand and clutched the officer bear in the other. His eyes were wide with fear, but he didn’t cry, and my dad began to relax a little. The nurses were really nice, and they gave Jake a cute gown to wear with fire trucks all over it. (In a pinch, fire trucks are almost as good as police cars to Jake.) Then we had some downtime, and that was the hardest part.
My mom gave Jake the presents from Matt and Sam to kill some time, and then she gave him the one from “me.” Naturally, Jake adored the boys’ presents, and he wanted to play catch in the waiting area, but my parents wouldn’t let him. So Jake and I drew and played hangman and tic-tac-toe until finally I was so hungry, I couldn’t stand it, and I told Jake I had to go to the bathroom, so I could hide down the hall and eat my cereal bar.
At this point, it was eight fifteen, and Jake would be called in at any minute. As I walked down the hall, a door to a doctor’s office opened, and I heard a man’s voice saying “See you in two weeks!” and out walked Diego Diaz and a man who must’ve been his dad!
“Diego!” I said, so surprised to see him that I blurted out his name before I even had a chance to feel shy.
“Hi, Emma,” he said. He was not his usual happy self, though. “What are you doing here?”
“My little brother is getting his tonsils out, so I’m here for moral support,” I said, shrugging. “Hi,” I said to his dad. Diego introduced us.
“Oh! You’re the model who’s scared of the dentist!” said his dad, smiling genially.
“Dad!” said Diego, blushing. He rolled his eyes at me.
I felt bad for Diego, because obviously he’d told his parents about me, and now he was mortified. But I felt great for me, because Diego had found our dentist visit worth mentioning! Quickly, I said, “I know. It’s crazy that I’m even here, because the last time I came as a visitor, I fainted! I can’t believe they even let me back in here!” I laughed.
Diego and his dad laughed too. “Well, I have to come back and get an operation on my ankle,” said Diego, his smile fading as he thought of it. “I hurt it playing lacrosse, and it just keeps getting worse.”
“That’s a bummer,” I said. “But maybe you’ll be, like, bionic after!” I was trying to make him feel better.
He smiled. “I hadn’t thought of it that way,” he said. “Mostly I’m just dreading it.”
“Well, you’re much braver than I am. You were a rock star at the dentist’s, anyway, where I would normally faint, so I think you’ll handle this just fine.”
“Thanks,” said Diego.
We smiled awkwardly at each other for a minute, and then his dad cleared his throat and said, “I think we’d better head out, so you’re not too late for school, son. It was nice to meet you, Emma. Good luck with your brother’s tonsils!”
“Thanks!” I said, waving as they walked away.
“Bye,” Diego called over his shoulder.
I couldn’t believe Diego of all people was nervous about an operation. At Dr. Brown’s, he was so cool. I guess everyone has something they’re scared of (okay, maybe a few things). I was smiling happily to myself as I started walking again, lost in a daydream of Diego and me on a date at the movies. I wasn’t paying much attention to my surroundings, and, suddenly, I turned a corner and found myself back at that dreaded lab room again, where I’d fainted the other day.
I gasped and ducked back around the corner I’d just turned, flattening myself against the wall. That room was like kryptonite for me! A passing nurse gave me a funny look and said, “Everything okay?”
I nodded and decided to eat my cereal bar right there. I was almost all the way through it when suddenly Jake and my parents appeared, with Jake riding in a wheelchair!
“Emmy! There you are!” he cried. “Look at me! I’m just like you were in the wheelchair! Woohoo!”
At least he was having fun for the moment.
“Is it time?” I asked my parents through my dry, sawdusty mouth.
“He’s just going to the lab to get the port put in for the IV,” explained my dad.
“You stay here,” my mom said firmly to me.
“No! Emmy, come!” cried Jake in a baby voice.
“Oh, Jake, I can’t go in there,” I said sadly. “I’m not allowed.”
But someone hadn’t briefed the nurse. “Sure you are, honey. It’s just fine. There’s no one else in there yet, anyway,” she said, peeking around the corner at the lab.
My mom and I groaned.
“See?” said Jake. “Come!”
“Oh, Jake . . .”
“Don’t be scared, Emma. I’ll be there to take care of you,” he said. “You can hold my bear.”
He was so cute, I almost cried. How could I put my own fears before his bravery and generosity? I took a deep breath, nodded at my mom, and said in a fake cheerful voice, “Okay! Let’s go!”
In the lab, I tried to focus only on Jake’s face. I didn’t want to see any needles on the counter or vials of blood waiting for collection or anything. I didn’t watch as the nurse snapped on her gloves and tied the rubber tube around Jake’s arm. (Okay, I watched a little, but more like you’d watch a snake in the room with you: out of the corner of your eye, to make sure it doesn’t attack.)
The nurse kept up her chatter the whole time, to distract Jake, but it kind of worked for me too. I kept trying to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth like Dr. Brown taught me.
“So, how old are you, honey? What grade are you in? What’s your favorite TV show?”
Jake answered politely and stared at everything the nurse did, totally fascinated by all the equipment and not at all freaked out.
“What’s your bear’s name, honey?” asked the nurse.
“Well . . . ,” said Jake. He didn’t really call it anything except “the officer bear,” which isn’t really a name, I guess. He looked at the bear for a minute, and then he looked up at the nurse. “Emma,” he said with a grin.
“No, the bear, honey, not your sister,” said the nurse. She was doing something with a needle and Jake’s hand, but I was studiously avoiding looking at either. My knees felt a little wobbly all of a sudden, but I pinched myself and tried some deep breaths. I can do this, I can do this, I chanted in my head. Deep breaths, desensitize, distract . . .
“No, the bear’s name is Emma too!” said Jake. “Because I love her!”
Awwww! “Jake! That’s so nice!” I said. Mia and Katie would have a field day with that one when I told them.
“Well, you obviously have a very nice sister. You’re awfully lucky,” said the nurse, focusing on Jake’s hand.
“I have some brothers, too,” said Jake. “But they’re not as fun.”
“Oh, Jake,” I said. I wanted to reach over and hug him right then and there.
“Okay, Jake, it’s going to be a little pinch, then that’s it,” the nurse promised. “You just look at your sister, who is going to make a funny face at you and make you giggle but not wiggle!”
Jake looked at me, and my stomach did a little flip-flop. This was it! I was terrified. I was standing there in the middle of the hospital, and it was . . . divine! Yes, I thought. It is just divine. And with that I took a big breath and made a crazy face at Jake, who started to giggle. I thought about what Alexis had told me: Putting a needle in, for a shot or a blood test or whatever, takes just a couple of seconds, and before it even starts to hurt, it’s over. I can do anything for three seconds, I thought, especially for Jake. And sure enough, after about three seconds, it was all over. The needle was in his hand, ready for the IV hookup, and he hadn’t even complained. I just didn’t look at it.
“Well, sweetie, you’re all done with the pinchy part. What a good boy you are! So brave!” praised the nurse, taping the port in place. “I bet you’ll get lots of ice cream when you’re done here today, won’t you?” She beamed at him.
I had to admit I was pretty surprised with ho
w well Jake was handling it all, now that we were here. I think my parents were too. We kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, as they say. For the real Jake to appear, but so far, since we’d gotten here, Jake had actually been perfect.
The nurse wheeled Jake out of the room, and I stood up to follow. For a second, I felt woozy, and I put my hand out to steady myself against the wall.
“Emma!” my mom said sharply.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I am totally fine.”
She continued to watch me as I struggled for a minute. The rushing sound came into my ears a tiny bit, but I took deep breaths and closed my eyes to make the stars at the edges disappear. I thought of Diego and Jake and how brave they both were, and I told myself, Suck it up, Taylor! After all, I wasn’t even the one having something done to me! Getting mad at myself kind of got my adrenaline going, and I was able to straighten up. I shook my head and opened my eyes, and I was fine.
“I’m fine,” I said again to my mom.
She looked at me skeptically. “Give me your hand,” she ordered.
“I am fine!” I protested.
“I don’t care. I can’t deal with two kids in wheelchairs this morning, thank you very much,” my mom said stubbornly.
“Whatever,” I said, matching her cranky tone, but I held her hand and walked out into the hall, where Jake, my dad, and the nurse were just turning the corner ahead of us.
I’d done it. I’d survived. Now it was Jake’s turn.
CHAPTER 10
Phew!
Jake was not so happy when they told him he’d have to leave Emma the bear in the waiting area with us.
“No,” he said, holding Emma tightly in his hands.
Uh-oh. Maybe this was the tantrum that had been on the horizon the whole time.
“I’m sorry, honey, but we don’t want the bear to get lost. Sometimes they drop on the floor and we don’t see them, and I know you won’t want to leave her behind, right? Isn’t she looking forward to some ice cream later, too?” the nurse said with a wink.
“I’ll take care of her for you, Jake, okay?” I said.
We were all trying to avoid another tantrum. And we were finally in the home stretch!
“Look, let me see her, just for a minute,” I said.
Reluctantly, Jake handed me the bear, and I cradled her in my arm and snuggled her next to my neck. “Just like you and me last night, right? Just like when you were a baby and I used to give you your bottle, okay?”
Slowly, Jake nodded. “Okay,” he said in a tiny voice.
“I’ll take good care of her. I promise,” I said.
Jake sighed. I could suddenly see that the kid was exhausted, and the operation hadn’t even started. He’d probably been so nervous all along, he hadn’t been sleeping well for days. No wonder he’d been so bratty. The poor guy.
“Are we ready?” asked a peppy, big nurse who appeared in the doorway, wearing a pink shower cap and a different kind of outfit.
“I think so!” said my mom, fake cheerful and obviously nervous as heck. My parents had agreed my mom would go with Jake, and my dad and I would go to the cafeteria to wait for her. Once they gave Jake the medicine that would make him fall asleep for the operation, she’d be kicked out of the operating room and come meet us.
“Good luck, Jake!” I said as they transferred him onto a gurney in the hall. “Have fun on your flying bed ride!” I bent down and kissed him on the head.
He smiled weakly at me as the nurse put a shower cap over his head. I almost couldn’t breathe, it made me so nervous, but not in a fainting way. Just terrified for Jake.
The nurse tucked him under the covers, and my dad gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the head. “Love ya, bud,” he said, and I could see when he stood up that he was crying a little and that he didn’t want Jake to see it.
My mom waved and took Jake’s hand, heading off down the corridor with him.
My dad and I, without speaking, followed the signs to the cafeteria.
Once there, we went through the line with trays, and the only things that really appealed to me were a bowl of chicken noodle soup and some pudding. We paid and then took our trays to a corner where the TV was playing. Some kid was watching SpongeBob, and my dad and I were just happy for the distraction of it. But it also made me think of Jake. I propped Emma the Bear on the table to watch us, and then my dad and I ate in silence.
Suddenly, I realized something and laughed out loud.
“What?” asked my dad.
“I’m doing what Jake has been doing!”
“What’s that?”
“I stayed home from school, I’m wearing my cozy clothes, eating soup and pudding, and watching SpongeBob with my stuffed animal.”
“Huh,” said my dad. “How do you like it?”
“I hate it.”
“Well, the good news is, after this operation, he won’t have to do that anymore,” said my dad, eating his bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich.
We chewed in silence and watched the undersea creatures and their little dramas unfold. I could tell my dad was nervous, because he kept checking his watch and looking at the door. Also, his leg was tapping uncontrollably under the table. I guess we all have different ways of dealing with nervousness.
Finally, after what seemed like hours but was only twenty minutes, my mom walked in.
My dad hopped up and waved. “Over here!” he called, and she saw us and headed over, giving him a thumbs-up as she walked.
“They’re in, the sedation went well, and they should be on their way. They said forty-five minutes to an hour,” she said as she reached the table.
My dad exhaled. “Okay. What can I get for you to eat?”
“Just coffee, please. And something sweet. Maybe something with lots of chocolate in it. Surprise me.” She smiled weakly.
“Mother! I’m shocked!” I joked.
“I need it,” she said. “Comfort food. Ugh, I just want this all over with and for Jake to be fine and home, and then I will fall into my bed for fifteen hours. I cannot wait.” She pulled back her hair from her face and tied it into a rubber band, and then she rested her chin on her hands. She looked young in a ponytail, but tired.
“I totally don’t want to make this about me, but can you believe I didn’t faint back there?” I grinned.
My mom shook her head slowly. “I couldn’t believe it. You fought it off! I’m proud of you!”
“I’m actually really proud of Jake,” I said. “Who would have thought after the show he’s been putting on these past two weeks that he would rally.”
My mom nodded. “You should have seen him with the surgeon, doing a thumbs-up and then counting backward as they put him under. . . .” A small sob caught in her throat. “Sorry. It’s just scary,” she apologized, blotting at her eyes with a paper napkin from the dispenser on the table.
“I know. And this is just tonsils. Thank goodness it isn’t something more serious,” I said.
“I know.” My mom’s shoulders sagged heavily.
My dad returned with three plates: a Danish, a fat swirly cinnamon bun, and a huge slab of chocolate cake, as well as my mom’s coffee in a paper cup.
“Looks like they could use some cupcakes around here,” I said. “I’ll have to tell Alexis.”
“As long as you’re not the one making the deliveries,” teased my mom.
“I think I’m on the way out of all that. Now when I have to think of someone I admire while they’re taking my blood or whatever, I’ll just think of Jake. He can be my little hero,” I said.
“Oh, Em,” said my mom, reaching out to pat my hand.
We sat quietly for a moment, staring at a new show that had come on TV. I spaced out as more people—hospital employees, mostly—filled the cafeteria around us, quickly grabbing breakfast and sitting at the tables to wolf it down.
Two pretty women about my mom’s age sat next to us and smiled, and we smiled back. They obviously worked here, but weren’t nurses, so just out of
boredom, I started to eavesdrop on them to see if I could figure out what they did.
“Yes, so now we need a new agency, a whole new plan for the campaign,” one was saying.
“It was a dumb idea to begin with,” said the other lady. “I don’t know why the board went for it. It’s not fair to ask children to pose near hospital equipment and blood.”
“Well, they wanted to play on the heart strings, you know. Remind people kids get sick too. Guilt them into donating blood . . .”
I looked at my mom and saw that she was listening too.
“Well, I think once they realized there weren’t any kid models who’d sit for the shoot, they knew they had a problem. . . .”
I widened my eyes at my mom. They were talking about the blood drive poster! I was sure of it! My mom held her finger up at me, like, Wait.
“Well, there was the one girl . . .” They both started to laugh and shake their heads.
My mom chose that moment to turn to them.
“I am so sorry to be nosy, and I hope you don’t mind me butting in, but something you said just caught my attention. Were you talking about the audition for the blood drive poster, where you were going to use child models?”
The women looked surprised but were friendly.
“Why, yes!” said one. “Did you know about it?”
My mother gestured at me. “Well, my daughter, Emma, was called to come in for the shoot but . . . she’s a little squeamish. . . .”
“I used to be squeamish!” I corrected her jokingly.
“Anyway, she just didn’t think she could pull it off, so we canceled.” The other ladies introduced themselves, and my mom turned her chair to chat with them better.
“Well, I’m certainly glad you knew your own limits,” said one of the ladies. Her voice then dropped to a whisper. “We had one model come in and actually faint when they set up the shot and brought in the blood.”
The other woman shook her head. “The whole idea of the shoot was terrible from the get-go,” she said. “They fired the ad agency that cooked it up, you know.”