Emory

 

Only the strong will prevail…

 

 

 

 

We just finished telling my family about my diagnosis. My mother and sisters have not stopped crying. I look over at Carson and see the devastation on his face.

“I’m sorry, Carson, I can’t fix this with the snap of my fingers. But I’m going to fight it and take my medication and pray for the cure.”

“And we’ll be at your side,” Mom says putting her arms around me.

“Absolutely,” Rainey says.

“Wild horses couldn’t pull us away,” Ariel tells me. The four of us huddle in a hug, why did I think I could do this without them?

Marcus comes up to me and wraps his arms around me saying, “We have this, Emory, nothing on this earth will take you from me. You’re a fighter baby, and with all of us at your back, there isn’t’ anything you can’t do.”

“Thank you, I was trying to protect you all by not telling you. I see now that it was a mistake, one I won’t be making again,” I tell them all.

“You best not, young lady,” Mom scolds me.

“Don’t keep us in the dark anymore, Em,” Ariel tells me, “we didn’t know what was going on with you. Only that something was, and we all had a feeling it was bad.”

“And our imaginations were worse than your prognosis. This is treatable and curable. We’ve got your back, sis, anything you need, we’re here for you.”

“I’ve got this,” I state, more to myself than anyone else.

“Now,” Mom says, clapping her hands together, “do we need to change your diet or anything to go along with getting you back on your feet?”

“We didn’t talk nutrition, Mom, only medication and which was the best with the highest success rate,” I say honestly, wondering if I should consult with a dietician.

“Well,” Ariel pipes up, “you’ve got a brother-in-law who’s a doctor and the world is your oyster, sister dearest. We have the internet to consult,” and I laugh at her hand gestures as she points at my laptop which is currently out and on the coffee table, due to my own research.

“What have I told you about googling medical diagnoses, Ariel?” Dillon asks holding my precious nephew in his arms. He’s beginning to get fussy, I guess someone wants his momma to feed him.

“Give me Devon, he needs to eat, Dillon.” Ariel tells him, surely, she’s not fixing to whip the boob out here in front of everyone is she? I sigh in relief when she asks me if she can use my bedroom. Once she’s gone, the guys all gather on the couch and Mom takes off down the hallway to assist Ariel, not sure how she plans to do that. Hmmm…Mom’s been kinda grandma crazy since Devon was born. Wonder if she tried to get Ariel to let her hold a boob? As I think this I burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny, beautiful?” Marcus asks me.

“I was just wondering if Mom’s helping means holding Ariel’s boob while Devon eats.” My statement causes the room to burst out into laughter—Dillon, not so much.

“You’re evil,” Dillon tells me.

“Me? How?” I ask him with innocent eyes.

“As if Glory would want to hold her boob,” he states to me.

“I’m sorry, have you met my mom?” he looks at me, then gets up and walks down my hallway.

Next thing I hear is, “Are you crazy, woman!” and that is the straw that broke the camel’s back. We are all hunched over laughing hysterically with tears rolling down our faces. For such a traumatic day, this sure has turned out better than I could’ve imagined or hoped for.

 

 

It’s been six weeks since I was given my prescription and started it. I have good days and I have bad days. I feel weak and tired and have had to slow down on my client list. Ariel and Rainey have picked up a lot of my clientele and it’s made things easier for me to cope with the schedule. Marcus has been a mother hen, never letting me do anything as easy as lifting a milk jug. He comes in every morning that he’s not on shift and helps me prepare my supplies and helps me stock up my room. When he isn’t around to do it, Levi and Carson step in. I’m starting to realize why it was Ariel got so frustrated during her stalker event.

“Would you back off, Carson! I can lift a damn bottle of ink!”

“You look pale today, Emory, let me help and don’t give me any shit,” he tells me. I look pale? I didn’t notice it when I looked in the mirror when I went to the bathroom. As whereas I feel a little weak, today is actually a good day for me. Giving him my best ‘go to hell’ look, I march into the bathroom to look in the mirror. My pallor looks fine to me, but then again, I don’t see myself the way others do I suppose.

“I look damn fine to me,” I say walking out of the bathroom where I overhear my sister laying into him.

“Don’t take all of her independence away from her. She’s fine, let her be, if she needs help she’ll ask for it.” I walk up to my sister and give her a high-five.

“You tell him, sis,” I state, turning around and putting my hands on my hips to show Carson that we stand united in this.

“What’s going on out there?” Ariel asks leaving her cubicle and coming to us.

“My man,” Rainey says pointing at Carson, to which his face lights up from her referring as him being her man. “Doesn’t know how to let well enough alone. He won’t even let her lift her bottle of ink to take into her space. It’s ridiculous and ludicrous, they need to let her breath,” she says with her chest breathing deeply through her anger.

“I agree, let her be, Carson. She knows to ask for help if she needs any.”

“Marcus told me not to let her lift anything,” he tells her.

“Well, we’re your bosses, not Marcus. You listen to us,” she tells him.

“This isn’t a work thing, Ariel,” he tells her. “It’s about takin’ care of my buddy’s woman. It’s a man code thing, and I have to stand by him.”

“Keep it up, and you’ll be standing by him outside,” I say pointing to the door. Carson is one of the best up and coming tattoo artists I’ve ever been around. He’s taken to the art like he was born doing it from birth. We’re all impressed, and he just has a couple of months ahead of him before his status changes from intern to artist.

“Hardee-har-har,” he says walking away from us as a client enters the door.

“I’m going to ring Marcus’ neck,” I tell my sisters.

“He’s just worried about you,” Ariel says to me, causing me to roll my eyes at the statement.

“Wouldn’t you be worried if he wasn’t showing that he cares?” Rainey asks me. I think about it, and yes, I would be.

“Yes, okay, but don’t you think he’s taking this a bit to the extreme level?”

“Maybe? But that’s what he has you for. To put him back in line when he crosses that invisible line,” Ariel tells me. And I know she’s right, because I’ve seen her put Dillon back over that proverbial line on several occasions.

“Fine!” I say, slapping my hands on my legs dramatically and walking away from them and back into my room.