Chapter 21 - Treatment Ends
Emma completed the intensive phase of treatment eleven months after the trash incident.
Not cured in one dramatic bell-ringing moment.
Her hospital did have a bell.
She chose not to ring.
“Too loud.”
Fine.
Dr. Brooks hugged her.
Emma allowed.
The plan shifted to surveillance imaging and follow-up.
Her energy improved slowly.
Her hair began filling beneath the knit cap.
She stopped wearing it around house first.
Then school.
One morning she stood in front of mirror.
“Looks weird.”
“It looks like hair.”
“It sticks up.”
“Hair does that.”
She smiled.
Then:
“Grandma used to say sick hair makes me look messy.”
I felt anger.
Emma watched me.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Do angry face.”
I breathed.
“Sorry.”
“I like it.”
“What?”
“My hair.”
“Then that is enough.”
She went to school without cap.
I sat in car and cried.
Yes, adults always crying.
We eventually revisited Charlotte.
The original job gone.
Another opportunity came in Richmond.
I accepted.
Not because Margaret kept us.
Because I no longer needed proving anything by moving.
Staying could be choice.
Leaving could be choice.
No one else’s fear determined it.
Emma resumed soccer? After brain tumor treatment maybe balance? Better she returned to art club and swimming gradually. She joined art club.
Her drawings changed.
Before, hospitals.
Rooms.
Beds.
After, doors.
Lots of doors.
Some open.
Some closed.
Dr. Moreno asked what they meant.
Emma said:
May you like
“I like knowing I can close them.”
Good.
