7. Giselle
SEVEN
GISELLE
Care Package and Self-Sabotage
“Heyo, it’s your fairest sibling!”
I smiled as my door opened and Nox ducked their head in, smiling from ear to ear.
“Hey there, friendo,” I said, hating how weak my voice sounded but genuinely surprised to see my youngest sibling. “What are you doing back from college? Please don’t tell me you’re skipping class.”
“Like my teacher big sis would ever tolerate that,” they said with a chuckle before bounding to my side. While I had been their age once, I’d never had those kinds of energy levels.
Or knees.
“I’ll have you know the professor canceled the class, and I heard a certain hard-headed teacher ended up in the hospital right by my part-time job.”
“Ha, that’s one hell of a coincidence, but if it lets me see my baby sibling, then I’m not complaining.”
“Yeah, you better not be complaining. Especially since I brought you your favorite nuts.”
“Macadamia?”
“You betcha!” They reached into the messenger bag at their side and produced the largest bag of macadamia nuts I’d ever seen.
“Nox, these are so expensive.”
“I know,” they said with a wink as they flopped into the recliner beside my bed. “Basically, I’m the best little sib ever.”
“You’re not kidding.”
She tossed me the bag, and I happily tore into it. Thankfully, I wasn’t on any sort of special diet, so I could eat what I wanted. In fact, my doctors would be happy I was ingesting such calorie-dense and nutritious food.
Naturally, I shared with Nox, even though I had a fleeting moment of temptation not to. But once that moment passed and I was my normal, not-macadamia-induced-greedy self, I gave them a handful and the two of us caught up.
I should have known that the levity could only last so long, however, because after ten minutes, my sibling cleared their throat and gave me a more serious look.
“Giselle…” they started, and they were just so darn intense about it.
“What?” I sounded far more offended than I had any right to be.
“Don’t what me! You saw how not having treatment made Mom really sick.
And you know what happened when she didn’t take things seriously and pushed herself too hard.
You have the advantage of a much earlier diagnosis and tons more medical technology that wasn’t available to her.
Don’t you think it’s disrespectful to the sacrifices she made for us by making the exact same mistakes? ”
I wanted to say something funny to play it off—after all, humor was an excellent coping mechanism. But I couldn’t. Perhaps because they had hit far closer to home than I had expected.
Perhaps because it felt like they just might be right.
“I didn’t mean to.”
I really didn’t. I’d gotten so caught up in things I hadn’t realized how much I was neglecting my health. I hated the road my mother had had to walk down, and I was infinitely grateful that mine was so much less fraught, so I didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the immense advantages I had.
Ugh.
“I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I?”
Something in my voice must have conveyed how miserable I felt, because suddenly Nox was up on their feet and pulling me into a hug.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. Just the fact that you’re sitting here, laughing and eating with me, means you didn’t let it get that bad. You just gotta keep working on it, okay? And I mean really work on it.”
“I know, I know.” Even though I was trying to keep my voice steady, all the willpower in the world couldn’t stop it from hitching. “I’m sorry.”
God, I was really letting people down. I had to be better. I couldn’t afford to let down my class, my family, and myself.
I just wished I wasn’t so damn sick. I was sick of being sick! Sickness sick. Was that a thing?
“Hey, hey, no apologies. Just promise to do better for yourself next time.”
“I promise.”
“There we go. Now, how about I get your hair up into something to protect it from these awful pillows? They totally wrecked your ’do the last time.”
“You act like there’s something there to braid,” I grumbled, thinking back to the innocuous question that had sent me spiraling yesterday morning.
“Pish-posh. You act like you’re bald.”
“Sometimes it feels like I am.”
“Sis, I say this with all the love in my heart, but you gotta stop being such a bitch to yourself.”
“Pardon?” I blinked at Nox. Not because I was horrified with their cursing or anything, but because I wasn’t used to them talking to me that way.
“You heard me. You see yourself through such an awful lens sometimes. Like, if I had a best friend who talked to me how you talk to yourself, you’d go after them with a baseball bat.”
“But—”
“No buts. I know I’m the youngest and therefore you and Simon think you know everything, but I’m being real with you right now.
You gotta cut yourself some slack. You’re an amazing teacher who’s really making a difference in kids’ lives.
You’re a grown woman supporting herself and her family in an economic crisis.
You’re disabled, and you’re drop-dead gorgeous!
“Yes, you have flaws. We all do. And no, you don’t look like an airbrushed movie star, but none of us do—not even the movie stars. So please, just… be a little nicer to yourself, okay? That’s my big sis you’re bullying.”
I liked to think that I had a good head on my shoulders, but hearing my sibling passionately defend me from myself made me feel both so incredibly loved and also extremely ashamed.
Had I really turned into one of those high-school mean girls, but only to myself? How lame was that? I knew self-sabotage was a thing, but still… I had enough obstacles without having to add anymore, didn’t I?
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said before taking a deep breath. “So, about my hair?”
“Yeah, yeah, scoot forward and let me work my magic.”
I scooched up in my hospital bed and let Nox settle in behind me. They pulled a wet-dry hairbrush and some bobby pins from their bag.
I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy being tended to. I knew if I asked my brother or my father to help me or do the same, they absolutely would. I also knew that neither of them would have any idea what to do, and that I would be too embarrassed to ever ask. Pride was such a silly thing.
But I would worry about that another day. For now, I was going to relish the primping and pampering.
It didn’t last nearly as long as I wanted, but that was always how it went. All too soon, Nox’s phone alarm went off, and they were jumping out of my hospital bed.
“Shoot, sorry! I gotta go! I can’t be late again for at least another month. I’ll text you when I’m done with my shift. Love ya!”
“Love ya,” I said back as they became a whirling dervish around my room, grabbing their discarded bag, their screaming phone, and rushing out. “To be young again.”
Although, sometimes it felt like I never even got a chance to be young. Between my mother’s illness, her death, and then my own illness, it just seemed one long march of “Wow, you’re so mature for your age!”
Ugh.
I didn’t have much time to ruminate on that thought before there was a knock on my door.
“Come in,” I said, already knowing it was the doctor.
One, because my nurses would knock and then come right in.
Two, because my family would text me as they parked.
Three, because the doctor didn’t call my name as he entered the room.
Although they were treating me right, I was just a patient to them.
Which was nice in a way, I supposed. It meant I was too boring to stick too deep into their minds.
And in this case, being boring was a very good thing.
Being interesting in the hospital could be a death sentence.
“Hello there, uh, Miss Fischbacher. I was going through notes on your file and the last two years all show marked improvement from when you were at the worst of your disease, but now your state is not too far off from how you were then. You triggered a thyroid storm, and while it wasn’t anywhere near lethal levels, this is a huge backstep in your numbers. ”
Jeez, rub it in, why don’t ya?
“I didn’t realize it had gotten that bad.”
“These things can sneak up on us. Frog in a pot and all that. But since you have an allergy to PTU and RAI wasn’t an option more than once due to thyroid eye disease, I’m going to have to recommend surgical treatments.”
I grimaced. While a total thyroidectomy or even a TAE worked for some people, the former came with a host of complications, while the latter hadn’t been studied enough to establish its long-term effectiveness or safety.
“What about my LDN? Can’t we just raise the dose?”
“Low-dose naltrexone is low dose for a reason. We can try lithium or beta blockers, but as with everything, there are risks and rewards. I’ll send some literature home with you. There’ve been a lot of advancements in the medical field since the passing of your mother.”
“I know.” God, I hated feeling like a child, but I was definitely completely and thoroughly chastised. “I think this was just a fluke. I’ve been doing so well with our course of treatment for so long, I’d like to stick to that a bit longer.”
“Very well. But if you have another incident like this within a year, I’m going to be rather insistent about changing your strategy.”
“Of course. I understand. It looks like I have a lot of research to do.”
The doctor waved his hand. While he wasn’t the warmest medical professional I’d ever worked with, he had a practical matter-of-factness to him that put me at ease a bit. But only a bit.
“Those can wait until you’re home and in a comfortable environment.
For now, just rest. Also, since your weight is lower than we would like, I’m going to put you on a high-calorie, high-fat diet.
I want you drinking an Ensure with every meal.
I would also love it if you could get a solid nap in before the orderly comes up with dinner. ”