The Convention of Wives by Debra Green

Author:Debra Green
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: She Writes Press

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rosie Kinsella

New York, New York, January 2001

Rosie squinted at the afternoon sun coming through her apartment’s windows. She shifted on the couch, feeling the muscles in her butt cry out for attention. It had been weeks since her fall. Weeks while she coped with physical pain and unbearable uncertainty. Not to mention her parents, who stayed after she came home from the hospital. At first it was all happy family as her mom and dad watched over her. Then, two nights in, she heard them arguing through the thin apartment wall.

“Tomorrow? You’re leaving tomorrow? You can’t be serious. You’re being selfish. Your patients can go on without you for a few days. This is a family emergency, for God’s sake! Rosie needs you,” her mom pleaded.

“I have a practice to run,” her dad yelled. “What do you think pays for the lifestyle you’ve gotten used to? When was the last time you made a car payment on that Mercedes?”

“This isn’t about money, and you know it. This is about time. You’re never around when we need you. Especially when we need you. When I need you.”

“Enough!”

Her dad left for Atlanta the following day. Her mom became Rosie’s personal combination caterer and drug dealer, alternatively running to the corner bodega for food and weaning Rosie off the Percocet by giving her Tylenol with codeine instead.

“Mom! Mom!” she yelled over the soap opera blaring from the TV.

No answer.

Right, she’d gone to do some errands.

She eyed the crutches resting on the white shag carpet nearby. She was thirsty but had to pee too. How was that possible?

Shit.

Rosie painstakingly made her way to the bathroom. She was exhausted by the time she got back to the couch but impressed with her newly found talent at balancing herself between the two crutches. The phone rang.

“Hello. John?”

“I think you have the wrong number.”

“Is this Dr. Kinsella’s line?”

“Oh, my dad. No, this is his daughter Rosie.” She thought she recognized the voice.

She heard a muffled exclamation. “Goddamn it, I told you to get me the father’s number, not the patient. Can’t anyone do anything right around here! Sorry, Rosie, this is Dr. Katz, we met a few weeks ago.”

“Yes, Dr. Katz, I know who you are.”

“Your bloodwork came back. First, I want you to know that I have some good news for you. You do not have lymphoma or any other blood cancer.”

Rosie started to cry.

“Rosie, are you there? Can you hear me?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, Dr. Katz. It’s just that that is such a relief.”

“Yes, well, I do have something else to tell you.”

Rosie held her breath.

“You have been diagnosed with something called Gaucher’s disease. It could be contributing to the symptoms you’ve been experiencing. It is treatable, but I’ll need you to come back into the office so that we can go over more information. My scheduler will call you back early tomorrow morning with a date and time.”

“I have what? Wait, I have to write this down to tell my folks.” Rosie grabbed a nearby pad and pen.

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