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In the oncology ward, they wanted to give Johnny a blood test. I watched as a nurse stuck a needle into an unfocused Johnny. After that was over, they told us to just sit in the waiting room until they had the results.
We opted for a long bench, so that Johnny could lie down and sleep with his head in my lap.
Mom put her hand on my shoulder, and for once I didn't shrug it off, although, I admit, I kind of wanted to.
"I can't believe I couldn't tell," she muttered more to herself than me.
"You're not a doctor," I answered in an emotionless monotone.
"Still, my mom…" My grandma had fought several different cancers in her life, finally dying of leukemia.
"Livvy, I don't feel good," Johnny mumbled drowsily from his resting place on my lap.
"I know, honey," I replied.
"I wanna go home."
"Me too. We'll go home soon. This will be over soon," I said, hopefully soothingly, pushing his hair back and caressing his arms, trying to do something comforting.
We sat like this for a while, nobody talking.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we were called into the oncologist's office.
A tall tan, balding Asian guy with glasses was sitting behind a desk. He instantly caused me to think of a monkey. He was looking over some papers that I assumed were Johnny's test results.
When he noticed us, he gave a friendly grin, which I found out of place in this situation.
"Hi, I'm Dr. Ling," he chirped, still wearing his lunatic smile, offering each of us a hand to shake.
We each shook his hand and introduced ourselves. The smile persisted through all of this.
Then, he turned to Johnny and me, his eyes on our intertwined fingers.
"Are you guys boyfriend and girlfriend?" He now looked like an overly enthusiastic puppy, and I sincerely wondered if he would wet himself with excitement.
We just nodded, not knowing what to say to this man.
"Awww! You're such a cute couple! Bonus: you're both short! That just makes it cuter, if that's even possible!"
I looked at the opened bottle of fruit juice on his desk. Maybe he'd been slipped something.
"Are you going to actually do your job, or merely continue to fill us with inane chatter regarding our romantic relationship?" I asked bitingly. I didn't think I would like this guy.
"Olivet," Mom began, but Dr. Ling silenced her.
"It's fine, Mrs. Waters. I respect straight-shooters. Anyway, the results of the test conveyed that Johnny is anemic, meaning that the number of red blood cells in his blood stream has gone down. This leads to his tissues and muscles being deprived of oxygen. This is the main cause of his exhaustion."
He took a deep breath, and then resumed his explanation. This time however, he directed his eyes to Johnny.
"Your bone marrow, which is responsible for producing white blood cells, red blood cells, and platelets, is producing abnormal white blood cells. Now, the job of regular white blood cells is to fight infection, but these abnormal ones don't carry their weight, making you get all those infections you've had recently."
Mom's face was a ghostly white. We both know exactly where this was going. Dr. Ling resumed speaking.
"The reason they're doing this, Johnny, is because you have a form of blood cancer called acute lymphoblastic leukemia, or ALL."
I felt numb. Although I'd been practically waiting to hear them, I felt like the words weren't real.
Dr. Ling looked at us for a moment.
"I know this is a lot to deal with. There's more to tell you, but I'm going to step out for a while so you can try to digest this. I'll be right outside. Don't feel any pressure to hurry. Take all the time you need. Just come outside when you want me to come back and tell you the rest."
Mom quietly thanked him, and he exited the room, closing the door behind him.
"How are you doing, Johnny?" I heard Mom's voice saying this as through it was coming through a thick wall.
"Shocked, I guess," I heard him say faintly.
"Do you remember Olivet's grandmother having leukemia? I know a lot about it because of her," Mom said. I didn't know how this was supposed to console Johnny, but it wasn't likeI had anything better to say.
" Do you still want," Johnny paused, "me living with you? I can understand if you don't."
I couldn't comprehend what he was saying, and then it hit me. Mom got it at about the same time.
She said, trying to be serious, "Johnny, do you think that because you have cancer we want to take you back like a toy that doesn't work?"
Without being able to help myself, I let out a weak laugh. Then Mom laughed a little, and we all lost control. It only caused us to crack up more when we remembered that we were in an oncologist's office.
Mom called Dr. Ling back in and he talked about chemotherapy, the treatment we had decided to go with for Johnny. We scheduled an appointment for him to get the chemo on Friday afternoon.
Then we left the hospital, walking at a slow pace because it was obvious how sleepy Johnny still was. Sure enough, as soon as we got into the car, he lapsed into unconsciousness, leaning on me for support.
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