'Til Next Time
By Nelly Taylor
()
About this ebook
"I'd never loved anyone as much as I loved Wynter, and somehow, I was expected to just let her go."
Fifteen-year-old Seth Rosenberg has just entered his freshman year of high school--isolated, friendless, and eager to have the next three years pass him by as swiftly as possible. But when Wynter Meadows, the widely popular, not to mention Seth's biggest crush, reveals that she is in the midst of a battle against leukemia, his entire world is flipped upside down.
Seeing that Seth is the only student to know of Wynter's condition, the two of them end up forming an unlikely yet secret friendship. During which, Seth learns that Wynter has chosen not to treat her disease and, consequentially, has been given less than a year to live.
With the monumentally important task of changing Wynter's mind weighing heavily on him, Seth must deal with the intense roller-coaster ride that accompanies being friends with Wynter Meadows while also being painfully aware of the unfortunate reality that awaits if he is to fail his mission.
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'Til Next Time - Nelly Taylor
'Til Next Time
Nelly Taylor
Copyright © 2023 Nelly Taylor
All rights reserved
First Edition
PAGE PUBLISHING
Conneaut Lake, PA
First originally published by Page Publishing 2023
ISBN 979-8-88960-022-0 (pbk)
ISBN 979-8-88960-032-9 (digital)
Printed in the United States of America
Table of Contents
Part 1
Thursday, September 13
Monday, September 17
Wednesday, September 19
Thursday, September 21
Friday, September 21
Tuesday, September 25
Wednesday, September 26
Friday, September 28
Monday, October 1
Wednesday, October 3
Thursday, October 4
Wednesday, October 10
Tuesday, October 16
Thursday, October 18
Friday, October 19
Monday, October 22
Wednesday, October 24
Wednesday, October 31
Monday, November 5
Tuesday, November 13
Friday, November 23
Tuesday, November 27
Thursday, December 6
Friday, December 7
Friday, December 14
Monday, December 17
Tuesday, December 18
Wednesday, December 19
Tuesday, December 25
Saturday, January 12
Wednesday, January 16
Part 2
Thursday, January 17
Friday, January 18
Saturday, January 19
Monday, January 21
Friday, February 1
Monday, February 4
Thursday, February 7
Saturday, February 9
Wednesday, February 13
Sunday, February 24
Monday, February 25
Tuesday, February 26
Part 3
Wednesday, April 3
Thursday, April 18
About the Author
Part 1
Thursday, September 13
Well, I guess it all started the day I went to the hospital. It was a Thursday, September the thirteenth. My illness had been present for several weeks now, so I figured it was probably time to go see a doctor. Through my extensive research that day, I learned that seeing a doctor is highly recommended if your symptoms don't subside in seven to ten days, which I probably could've guessed, but ironically enough, I tried to put it off for as long as possible. At first, my reasoning was simple: none of my symptoms were really all that bad, and I figured my immune system would handle the job in a few days—a week, tops. But after I was forced to struggle through the end of the summer along with the first couple weeks of my freshman year of high school with worsening symptoms, I knew I couldn't justify putting it off any longer.
Hospitals have always frightened me; I'm not really too sure why. They're just not the most inviting of places to be in. The sterile scent is unpleasant, you're in a place full of sickies, and if you're going to get bad health-related news, a hospital sort of tops the list of the places you are most likely to be located.
Before I finally made the decision to go, I felt as if a little research was warranted. As I was sitting at the desk inside my bedroom, I began entering in all my symptoms into the WebMD symptom checker on my iPad. The list was quite vast: shortness of breath, a cough, recurring fever, sore throat, chest pain, headache (in the temples), and sneezing—all of which I had experienced at one time or another over the past three weeks.
After I finished, an eye-popping list was provided for me, naming at least thirty possible conditions that coincided with my assemblage of symptoms. As I read through all the possible matches, there was a tightening in my chest that had nothing to do with whatever illness I was suffering from.
On the positive side, some of the conditions weren't really all that bad. I mean, influenza, the common cold, strep throat—not very welcoming, but manageable nonetheless. But some of those conditions were really quite disheartening.
Pneumonia! Tuberculosis! Lyme Disease! Poisoning!
Is it possible that I've been poisoned?
And then of course, there was the air of unease that naturally comes with the unknown. Half of the conditions listed I had never even heard of before.
Was everyone supposed to know the medical definition of conditions like infective endocarditis and leptospirosis?
Allowing my curiosity to get the best of me, I began looking into a few of these mystery conditions. The results only succeeded in further demoralizing me.
Pulmonary Embolism: the sudden blockage of a major blood vessel in the lung, often caused by blood clots. May require surgery. Potentially fatal.
Peritonsillar Abscess: A bacterial infection that usually begins as a complication of untreated strep throat or tonsillitis. (I'd been sick for almost a month! This complication could have arisen because of my unwillingness to seek medical attention.) If not treated quickly, you may experience complications from peritonsillar abscess: obstruction of the airway, bacterial infection in the jaw, neck or chest, bloodstream infections, sepsis, death.
Hodgkin's Lymphoma: A type of cancer…
Cancer?
If I was scared before, now I was officially terrified. Just at the sight of the word cancer, my heart nearly stopped, and after putting down my iPad, I immediately ran downstairs to find my mother. It was around 6:00 p.m. School and work had already let out, and she had just begun preparations for dinner.
I need to go to the hospital. Now!
I blurted out.
The hospital?
my mother asked curiously, a look of concern plastered on her face. What's wrong, honey? Are you still not feeling well?
Yes, I think I'm seriously ill, Mom. I was just looking over some of my possible conditions, and a lot of them require immediate treatment. Please, we have to go!
I pleaded desperately.
It's a little late now, Seth. I can call in and try to schedule an appointment for tomorrow, or maybe we can wait until the weekend, hmm?
My patience was waning thin, and I began shaking my head feverishly. Mom, you don't understand, I'm seriously ill! We have to go. Now!
So my mom put dinner on hold and agreed to take me to the hospital. Although she may not have understood the seriousness of the situation, I certainly knew better. I had come to the realization that whatever illness I was suffering from was most likely very serious and almost certainly life-threatening. My symptoms hadn't seemed all too bad at first, but clearly I was mistaken. Of course they were bad; there's no other fathomable explanation for why they would've lasted this long.
There's this little game I often play with myself. I call it Best-Case Scenario, Worst-Case Scenario. The title is pretty self-explanatory, but the game itself is really quite useful. The results of the game allow me to strategically analyze the best and worst possible outcomes of any given situation. If the projected best-case scenario is enticing, that may be enough to enable me to take a risk. For example, receiving the proper medical treatment that will allow my life to continue. But if the worst-case scenario is incredibly daunting, it may convince me to avoid taking that risk altogether. If the situation is unavoidable—as this one was, considering I was already on my way to the hospital—it at least allows me to mentally prepare for each possible outcome and, hopefully, eliminate the element of surprise. The outcome of these situations is never usually as good or as bad as I envision while playing the game. They tend to fall somewhere in the middle. But visualizing the extremes at least allows me to mentally prepare myself for what may eventually come. And at least that way I'm able to handle the results of said situation accordingly and, hopefully, with some poise.
During the car ride, I began to play the game.
Best-Case Scenario: I have a common cold, albeit a nasty bout of it.
Worst-Case Scenario: I have Hodgkin's lymphoma, which is a type of cancer.
Cancer…
No matter how I looked at it, there was no denying the very strong possibility that I was dying. Fifteen years young and already knocking on death's door.
Mentally, I began getting my affairs in order:
I'll leave my Bar Mitzvah money as well as my piggy bank for my sister Leah. She's never been as prudent as me at saving her money, and she's going off to university next year. She could definitely use the extra cash.
I suppose I can leave my manga and comic book collection for my brother Adam. He kind of outgrew such literature, even before he left the city to go to an out-of-province university. But who knows? He might still be happy to receive them, even if he'll never actually open any of them up. Maybe my death can even be enough to rekindle his affection.
When we arrived at the hospital, my mom went up to speak with the receptionist while I waited at her heels, fearing the worst would be revealed in a matter of minutes—more likely hours, judging by the amount of people in the waiting area.
After she finished, the two of us journeyed through the waiting room, searching for a pair of seats. Even though I knew I was probably going to die soon anyways, I was still a bit unhinged at being in a room full of contaminated specimen. It would be just my luck to turn out to be okay, only to have contracted a viral infection from somebody who was actually sick.
As we were waiting, I began to look around the room, searching for warning signs, debating whether I should just convince my mother to schedule an appointment for another day (at least that way I wouldn't have to be surrounded by so much hypothetical contagion). My eyes began scanning through the sickies, and coincidentally, they landed on one sickie (was she?) who I happened to know. Her name was Wynter Meadows, an absolutely stunning girl who went to my high school. Actually, Wynter and I attended the same school ever since the fourth grade, when she first moved to Edmonton.
The memory is still so fresh; I remember it like it was yesterday. Nine-year-old me was sitting at the front of the classroom, a spot typically reserved for the academically gifted but maybe not so popular
kids such as myself. Mrs. Stewart had entered the room with a little girl I had never seen before, and she introduced her to the class.
Hello, class! Before we start, we have a new student joining us today!
Mrs. Stewart positively beamed at us.
She was one woman who, no matter the situation, seemingly always had a smile glued on her face. You could just tell she genuinely adored children, and we adored her right back. Her energy was infectious.
I'm very pleased to introduce you all to Wynter Meadows, who has just recently moved here. I trust you will all show her kindness and make her feel welcome!
As Mrs. Stewart stood there, smiling her enormous smile, Wynter smiled shyly toward us as well, giving a small wave before being shown to her seat.
Wynter looked different back then. Her hair was a lot shorter, and she obviously hadn't begun to develop as a woman yet, but ever since that day, I had the biggest crush on her. But even as early as the fourth grade, the social pecking order had long been established, and I was near the bottom of the hierarchy. My chances of winning over this cool and fascinating girl were virtually nonexistent, so instead, I grew accustomed to watching her from afar.
I watched as she familiarized herself with her surroundings and seemingly effortlessly climbed atop the hierarchy and, in doing so, moved even farther away from my grasp.
That day in the hospital though, Wynter didn't appear to be her usual calm, cool, and collected self. She was looking pretty anxious; her teeth were biting away at the fingernails on her right hand, and she was tapping her foot rather aggressively. The man she was sitting with was her father, I assumed, and he also wore a look of apprehension, although he was doing a better job of masking his emotions.
Even though I sat there and watched her for quite some time, Wynter took no notice of me. She must've arrived well before my mother and me because she was ushered by a nurse out of the waiting room well before we were and returned before my name was even called.
I managed to catch a glimpse of Wynter as she was leaving the hospital. Silent tears were racing down her cheeks, and her father had his arm around her. Stricken with a sudden urge to comfort her, I started to rise out of my seat, but quickly thought better of it. Even though I wanted to make sure she was okay, the idea of me doing so was really quite comical.
Wynter and I didn't talk. We'd known each other for years, sure, but the two of us were still virtually strangers. And so I sank back into my seat, hoping that she was all right all the same.
A short while later, my name was finally called, effectively returning the sense of panic that had been so present over the past couple hours but was set on hold upon seeing Wynter.
My mother and I followed a nurse into a hospital room, and I was instructed to sit on the bed until the doctor arrived. Mom tried to engage in some chitchat, but seeing that my jaw felt as if it were bolted shut, I wasn't really able to participate. My heart was beating viciously against my chest, and as the doctor knocked on the door and let himself in, I had the faintest hallucination that I was being greeted by Death himself.
Hello, Mr. Rosenberg, I'm Dr. Parker. How can I help you today?
Well, I uh…
I began, forcing my jaw open with immense difficulty before naming all the symptoms I had been experiencing over the past few weeks.
Mhm.
Dr. Parker looked down at the clipboard in his hands. Sounds like there's a bit of nasal congestion too.
Actually, that's just how my voice sounds—as if I have a permanent sinus infection—but I decided to just go with it. Yeah, a bit.
I took a quick sniff, and in doing so, I suddenly realized that there maybe was some nasal congestion.
Uh-oh! I never added that to the symptom checker, yet my nose is clearly plugged. How much did my blunder affect my results? That's probably at least another five conditions I haven't even had the chance to consider because of my error!
Dr. Parker began doing the routine inspections. He listened to my heart and lungs with the stethoscope, asked me to take a few deep breaths, and looked inside my ears and mouth, all in a calm and hasty manner. I was actually a bit worried that his haste may have led to him missing something vital because he began speaking as if everything was fine, suggesting mere antibiotics.
Doctor,
I forced myself to say and took a deep, calming breath. I…I think that I may possibly have Hodgkin's lymphoma.
There was a long pause. "Hodgkin's lymphoma? Dr. Parker finally repeated slowly.
And why exactly do you suspect that to be the case? Is there a history of cancer in your family?"
Well, I think there was a distant aunt of mine—
No, sweetie, Auntie Esther died of a heart attack, not cancer,
my mom interjected.
Oh yeah,
I said, giving my head a slight shake. Well anyways, I listed all of my symptoms in WebMD, and it gave me Hodgkin's lymphoma as a possible match.
The corners of Dr. Parker's mouth twitched ever so slightly. "Ah, well, although WebMD can certainly be a useful tool, I don't think that it should be relied too heavily upon. In some cases—he gestured toward me—
it can actually do more harm than good. Seeing all those possible conditions can often be a little nerve-racking and even induce some paranoia."
His words did very little to comfort me, and seeing that I was still wearing a fearful expression, Dr. Parker broke into a comforting smile.
Listen, we'll try the antibiotics. That way if the problem is bacterial, the antibiotics will take care of it. I can also get you set up for an X-ray of your chest and sinuses, which should be able to locate any problems that I may have missed. In the meantime, please, try not to worry too much, okay?
He nodded and smiled at me, and I gave him a weak smile in return.
Thank you very much, Doctor,
my mother said as Dr. Parker handed her my prescription and X-ray sheet.
You're very welcome, Mrs. Rosenberg. We're fairly busy at the moment, I'm afraid, so I'm going to send you across the street for your son's X-ray. They close fairly soon, but if you guys hurry, you should be able to get it done by tonight, and I'll be able to give you a call to discuss the results on Monday.
How does that sound, Seth? You up for a trip to the X-ray clinic?
Mom asked me.
In spite of myself, I nodded. My stomach was starting to feel a bit queasy, which I painfully realized was perhaps even another symptom I overlooked! Maybe I should inform the doctor?
But ultimately, I decided against it. Instead, my mother rushed us over to the X-ray clinic, where I received an X-ray of my chest and sinuses. Afterward, we visited the pharmacy, and I was able to get my prescription filled.
Considering it was already pretty late, Mom opted for takeout. Once we got home, however, I was only able to finish about a third of my food before my stomach insisted that I stop. After imagining my own death for the last several hours, my appetite had been MIA for quite some time. Unfortunately for me, I was instructed to take the antibiotics with food.
That night I curled into bed with one of my favorite Iron Man comics, ready to put the day behind me.
Best-Case Scenario: the antibiotics will begin taking effect instantaneously, and tomorrow, I'll already begin to feel a little bit better.
Worst-Case Scenario: the disease I have progresses at an inconceivable rate, and I don't wake up at all.
And the last thought I had before falling asleep that night was that I didn't even get a chance to officially prepare my will.
Monday, September 17
The following Monday, I was already pretty much back to 100 percent. As it turned out, I may have overreacted. I had taken Friday off and used it—along with the weekend—to get some much-needed R & R. Looking back, I don't know if it was the daily naps, the abundance of soup and liquids, the antibiotics, or just having three stress-free days to catch up on some anime, but my symptoms had pretty much subsided. The only troublesome symptom that I was dealing with now was an upset stomach, but the pharmacist had already forewarned me that that was a common side effect while taking antibiotics. But what with the constant nausea now looming over me and being relatively symptom-free otherwise, I desperately wanted to ditch them altogether. However, the pharmacist also stressed that it was imperative that I finish off the entire prescription, so I decided to just suck it up and trust her judgment.
Even though the additional rest was obviously needed, I wasn't too happy about missing a day of school. My mom insisted that I did, despite my arguments, saying that my missed workload could be taken care of when I was feeling better. The schedule I had was already fairly difficult to begin with, so keeping up with my workload could prove tricky if I turned missing school into a habit. First period I had English 10 pre-IB, followed by Art 10, then lunch. And my last two classes of the day were Math 10C pre-IB and Science 10 pre-IB. Full International Baccalaureate courses weren't offered until grade 11 level courses at J. R. Beckwith High School—which was something that I was mildly disappointed about.
High school may be about having fun to some people, but I've always viewed it as a pivotal stepping stone for future success. For the three years I would be studying at JRBHS, I intended to finish English and social at the IB level. As for the sciences, I intended to complete all three—chemistry, biology, and physics—also at the IB level. And math, I intended to complete at the IB level as well, along with the optional calculus course offered after the completion of Math 30-1 or IB. Aside from the core subjects, I intended to complete financial management and entrepreneurship as well as art, both of which are offered at the grades 10, 11, and 12 level.
Altogether, this would amount to twenty-three courses over the span of three years. Each year of high school consists of