“Please sit down, Professor Harrison,” the doctor said to Tasha, pointing to the chair across from his desk.
“Thank you,” she said and sat down, fear kicking at her heart.
“I am doctor Fabian,” the middle-aged doctor said with a professional smile.
“Please, what is wrong with my son?” She asked in a panic-stricken voice, “What is wrong with Tyson?”
It was three weeks after she returned from Los Angeles. She was lecturing her students when a call came through that she needed to come over to the state that Tyson collapsed in class.
“Not yet, Prof.,” the doctor’s face softened. “We’re not sure yet, but we’ll do everything we can to find out.”
Tasha looked around the sterile white room. Dr. Fabian’s calm voice was a stark contrast to the turmoil going on in her mind.
“How long is that going to take?” She clasped her hands on her legs. “Doctor, please?”
“Let’s say two days,” he closed up Tyson’s case file in front of him.
“He’s going to wait for two days?” She pushed forward in her seat, she was becoming more agitated. “Before you can diagnose what the problem is?” She wanted to scream, but all that came out was a choking gasp.
“Please take it easy, we already ran a few tests already, but everything came back positive.” He tried to explain more. “That means we have to keep Tyson here for more tests and observation.”
“I hope he won’t collapse again before you finish with the tests?”
“Prof.,” Dr. Fabian called out softly. “He won’t. We are monitoring him. That I assure you.”
“Thank you,” Tasha nodded, her eyes were blurring with tears already. She knew the next two days were going to be agonizing for her.
Seeing how panicked she was, Dr. Fabian tried to calm her down. “Professor Harrison, rest assured that we are doing the best for Tyson. Please trust in us.”
“Can I see him now?” She asked, trying to sound normal.
“Of course,” he opened Tyson’s case file again. “He is in room 44, wing B.”
Tasha thanked the doctor again and left to check on her son.
She took the elevator to wing B and hurried down the long corridor until she got to the door marker room 44. Tasha pushed open the door, her heart heavy with worry. Everywhere was quiet. Only for tye sound was the rhythmic beeping of the machines monitoring Tyson.
The door opened again, and a nurse walked in. They exchanged greetings and Tasha introduced herself.
“Professor,” the nurse said kindly. “You have until ten pm to stay with your son.”
She nodded. She already knew from coming to visit neighbors and friends that she wouldn’t be allowed to sleep over.
Tyson’s eyes fluttered open as soon as the nurse left.
“Mom,” he whispered. “I thought they didn’t call you.”
“They did.” She sat on the bed beside him and kissed his forehead. “I have been with the doctor.”
“Mom, what is wrong with me?” He squeezed his mother’s hand. He was as scared as his mother.
“They don’t know yet,” she took his hand. “You are going to be here for the next two days so that they can carry out some tests to find out what is wrong with you.”
“You are going to stay with me, right?”
“No, my sunshine,” she sighed. “They won’t allow me to stay overnight. I can only be with you before even pm.
**********
Over the next two days, Tash watched as the medical staff came in and out of Tyson’s room to take care of him and take blood samples for tests.
Late evening on the third day when there was only about forty-five minutes before Tasha had to leave, a nurse came in to tell her that Dr. Fabian would like to see her. She quickly jumped to her feet and left the room. Thankfully, Tyson was taking a nap then. And Parker who had been with them since noon was still around.
“Have you been able to find out what is wrong with my son, doctor?” She asked after she exchanged greetings with Dr. Fabian when she got to his office.
“Please, have your seat, Prof.,” he said, his face etched with concern. “That is what I am about to tell you.”
Tasha nodded, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. “I’m listening, doctor.”
“I think we have finally gotten an answer,” Dr. Fabian cleared his throat. “Tyson is suffering from aplastic anemia.”
He stopped for a moment to allow the weight of his words to settle.
“Aplastic anemia?” She asked. She wasn’t familiar with the ailment. “Is…is it cancer?” Her voice was shaking.
“No, it’s not,” the doctor shook his head. “It’s a rare condition where the bone marrow isn’t producing enough blood cells.”
Tasha took a deep breath and looked on.
“The good news is that it’s curable.” He assured her.
“Thank God,” a ray of hope shot through her mind. “Is he going to need surgery?”
“Not necessarily.” He fixed his gaze on Tyson’s case file opened in front of him. “The treatment is mainly drugs and blood transfusion.” He took a deep breath, “but if those do not work, we will have to look towards the bone marrow cell transplant.”
“Bone marrow transplant?” The words felt like a sledgehammer in his brain.
“For now, let’s start with blood transfusion,” Dr. Fabian broke into Tasha’s thoughts. “We’ll do that tomorrow.”
“You will need to fill out some form for your consent,” he picked up a plastic file and slid it over to her. “These are the consent forms for the treatment,” he put a pen on the folder. “Start now.”
“Oh. Okay,” she picked the folder. Her hand trembled as she brought the forms out for her signature.
Dr. Fabian explained the process of blood transfusion to her after she had filled out the consent forms.
“The process won’t take more than two hours,” he said. “But we are going to keep him here for another Forty-eight hours for observation.”
“It’s okay, Doctor,” Tasha replied. “I am just so happy that he can now receive the proper treatment in time. Thank you very much for your care.”
“You are welcome,” he nodded. “We are only doing our job here.”
“What time is the transfusion going to be tomorrow?” Tasha asked him.
“Nine,” Dr. Fabian opened Tyson’s case file and put the forms Tasha just signed in it. “Nine, am.”
“Okay Doctor,” Tasha stood up. “I will be here before nine tomorrow morning.”
She walked back to Tyson’s office feeling bittersweet. Bitter because of the severity of her son’s illness and sweet because it was manageable.
She took a deep breath at the front of the door before she opened and walked in. The now familiar beep of the heart monitor filled her ears as she walked further into the room. Tyson was still sleeping; he looked peaceful and innocent. Tears pricked her eyes as she watched him.
“How did it go?” Parker asked, squeezing Tasha’s hand, his eyes filled with concern.
“It’s fine,” she looked at her son’s sleeping form. “It’s time to go already.”
Her gentle smile did little to hide the worry in her eyes. Parker understood she didn’t want to talk just yet and just gave a nod.
Tasha sat beside Tyson on his bed, gently stroking the boy’s forehead for a few minutes before the door opened and his nurse walked in.
“Prof.,” she looked at her wristwatch and gave her a kind smile. “It’s time to go home and rest. You need your strength, too.”
Tasha kissed Tyson’s forehead, and she took Parker’s outstretched hand. And they both left the room.
“So what is the diagnosis?” Parker asked as soon as they got into his car. Tasha had come to the hospital on a public bus in the morning.
“He has aplastic anemia,” she told him, her voice cracking with emotion. “The doctor said it occurs when the body stops producing new blood cells.”
“Oh Lord.” Parker’s face paled, and he curved his arms around Tasha. “I’m so sorry, Tasha.” He rocked her in her arms for a moment before he pulled back.
“What does this mean for Tyson?” He enquired more.
“Well,” she shrugged, her face looking so sad. “They are going to do a blood transfusion tomorrow. Dr. Fabian said that he can recover with the transfusion and medication.”
“It’s okay,” he took both of her hands. “Everything is going to be fine.” He reached out and touched her face. “We’ll get through this together, Tasha.”
She touched the hand he placed on her face, as she said through her tears, “thank you, Parker. Thank you for being here for me.”