My parents are here. It's been a few days since I've last seen them. Both of them are even sort of dressed up. Is this supposed to be some kind of special occasion?
It's not a party.
There is this ritual the head cardiologist has. He takes his time, sorting his papers, then setting them aside as if to make a point of the pointlessness of what he just did.
ED: Is he from Pakistan?
Then he casually sits down on the edge of the bed next to mine. He looks me in the eyes for a moment.
Hello, Hisao. How are you today?
I don't answer him but I smile a little, back at him.
I believe that you can go home, your heart is stronger now, and with some precautions, you should be fine. We have all your medication sorted out. I'll give your father the prescription.
He hands a sheet of paper to my dad, whose expression turns wooden as he reads it quickly.
Over 9000 midichlorians? So many...
I take it from his hand and take a look myself, feeling numb. How am I supposed to react to this?
FUS
ROH
DAH
Side effects, adverse effects, contraindications and dosages are listed line after line with cold precision.
I try to read them, but it's so futile.
I can't understand any of it. Attempting to only makes me feel sicker.
All this..for the rest of my life, every day?
I'm afraid that is the best we can do at this point.
However, new medications are always being developed, so I wouldn't be surprised to see that list fade over the years.
Years...What kind of confidence booster is that? I'd have felt better if he hadn't said anything at all...
Also, I've spoken with your parents and we believe that it would be best if you don't return to your old school.
WHAT!?
Please, calm down, Hisao. Listen to what the doctor has to say...
Calm down? The way he says it tells me he knew full well that I wouldn't like it. Am I going to be home schooled?
Whatever of my concerns shows, it's ignored.
We all understand that your education is paramount; however, I don't think that it's wise for you to be without supervision.
At least not until we're sure that your medication is suitable.
So I've spoken to your parents about a transfer.
It's a school called Yamaku Academy that specializes in dealing with disabled students.
Disabled? What? Am I....
It has a 24-hour nursing staff and it's only a few minutes from a highly regarded general hospital. The majority of students live on the campus.
Think of it as a boarding school of sorts. It's designed to give students a degree of independence, while keeping help nearby.
Independence? It's a school for disabled kids. Don't try to disguise that fact.
If it was really that "free," there wouldn't be a 24-hour nursing staff, and you wouldn't make a hospital being nearby a selling point.
Of course, that's only if you want to go. But...your mother and I aren't really able to home school you.
ED: So I have a choice?
We went out there and had a look a couple of weeks back; I think you'd like it.
It looks like I really don't have a choice.
ED: Sorry I asked.
Compared to other heart problems, people with your condition usually tend to live long lives. You'll need a job one day and this is a good opportunity to continue your education.
This isn't an opportunity at all, don't call it an opportunity. Don't call it a goddamned opportunity.
Well, you should be excited at the chance to go back to school. I remember you wanted to return to school, and while it's not the same one...
A special school. That's...
An insult. That is what I want to say. It's a step down.
It's not what you think. All of the students there are pretty active, in their own sort of way.
ED: ......you wanted to say UNIQUE didn't you?
It's geared towards students that can still get around and learn, but just need a little help..in one way or another.
Your father's right. And many of the graduates of the school have gone on to do amazing things. A person doesn't have to be held back by their disability.
On of my colleagues in another hospital is a graduate.
I don't care. A person doesn't have to be held back by their disability? That's what a disability is.
I really hate that something so important was decided for me. But what can I do about it? A "normal" life is out of the question now.
It's funny, I had always thought my life was actually kind of boring, but now I miss it.
I want to protest. I want to blame this reaction on shock, or fatigue. I could easily yell out something now - something about how I can go back to school anyway. But, no.
I don't say anything. The fact is that I know now it's futile.
I look around the room, feeling very tired of all this. The hospital, doctors, my condition, everything. I don't see anything that would make me feel any different.
There really isn't a choice. I know this, but the thought of going to a disabled school...what are those even like? As much as I try to put a positive spin on this, it's very difficult.
But let me try.
A clean slate isn't a bad thing.
That is all I can think of to get me through this. At least I still have something; even if it's a "special school," it's something. It's a fresh start, and my life isn't over. It would be a mistake to just resign myself to thinking that.