Free Don't Leave Me This Way: Or When I Get Back on My Feet You'll Be Sorry by Julia Fox Garrison Page A

you stand up. Mom is lying on the bed reading a magazine. She looks up, astonished, and says, “What are you doing?”
    She means, “Why are you standing up? You can’t do that.”
    You thought you would just get up and walk over to the fan to dry the polish. So you did. Suddenly brought back to reality, you fall back into the wheelchair and slump over the young Vietnamese girl. Mom struggles with her to get you into a sitting position while at the same time wrestling with the unstable wheelchair.
    Pretty weird mind games. To think you can stand and then do it—but once you’re reminded of your paralysis, to collapse.
    The Vietnamese manicurist has had enough. She gathers her beauty supplies and bolts from the room, leaving her jacket and a few other items. Mom has to chase after her to give her the things she’s left behind.

Judge Judy Gets Hammered
    YOUR DECISION TO REFUSE more chemotherapy treatment in the rehab hospital made Dr. Jerk madder than a hornet on the inside of a window. He sent his friend and associate Dr. Panic in to see you, in an attempt to convince you.
    Dr. Panic is hovering over your bed now clutching a large manila envelope.
    “Hi, I’m Dr. Panic. Dr. Jerk asked me to review these CAT scans and angiograms. I haven’t yet, but what you have is incurable. You may die from this disease if it goes untreated.”
    You’re caught off guard. You had been relaxing, watching Judge Judy with your mother after a long day of therapies. Judge Judy has become your secret addiction in the rehab hospital. She puts everyone in his place. Before this conversation, you had decided that you wanted to become Judge Judy. Setting the rules and enforcing them.
    Now you have to put Judge Judy in the background. Someone in a white coat, with authority, is saying you will die if you don’t do as he says.
    Die.
    The word has black tentacles. You burst into tears.
    Dr. Panic leaves and sends for the on-staff neurologist. She steps into your room and asks how you’re feeling.
    In between sobs, you say, “How am I supposed to feel? He just told me I’m going to die. I know we’re all going to die, it’s inevitable, but I’m not ready. I still have so many things to do. I need to raise my little boy. The way everyone keeps talking, I feel like I can’t even cry, because I’m afraid my head may explode.”
    She stares at you intently but says nothing to comfort you. Her only response is to shrug her shoulders. She vanishes as suddenly as she appeared.
    The phone is ringing. You are crying hard. Mom has witnessed the whole exchange and is fighting back tears, too. She answers the phone and hands it to you.
    “It’s your brother. John wants to talk with you.”
    “Hi, Johnny, I’m a little upset, I’ve just been told I’m going to die.” You say it all between sobs.
    “Okay, listen to me, Julia.” John tends to get animated when he’s trying to convince you. That’s why he makes a great trial lawyer.
    “You’re upset, but LISTEN TO ME, I’M COMING OVER THERE RIGHT NOW TO UN-UPSET YOU. I’LL BE RIGHT THERE!” he screams into the phone to get his point across. You can tell he’s mad—or is that fear in his voice?
    You hang up the phone and continue crying with Mom. “I feel like I can’t blow my nose too hard, or cry, or laugh. Any strain and my head is liable to go.”
    John must have used some kind of superhero method to arrive as quickly as he does. He is pacing by your bed.
    “YOU ARE NOT GOING TO DIE,” he continues, as though he had never put down the phone. “We’re going to find out what happened and how to get well. You’re not going anywhere but home to recover. You’re a fighter, Julia. You’re going to beat this. You’re tough. Do you hear me? You are not going to die. How did that asshole doctor come to his conclusion?”
    “He said he consulted with Dr. Jerk. The surprising thing is, he has not reviewed my films.”
    “Obviously, these are not the right doctors to listen to.