This is the thirty-fourth part of a fiction serial, in 752 words.
The phone call from Nottingham came late at night, but neither Annie nor Tony were asleep anyway. It was Scott on the phone, not Melanie. “Angela has been scanned, x-rayed, and examined from head to toe. They even had an eye doctor come and check on her. At least they managed to bring her round, after giving her something to calm the seizures. Mel is asleep with her now. They said we can stay in the room tonight, but I have to tell you Tony, the news is not good”.
Tony felt Annie’s eyes boring into the back of his head, and started to wonder how he would tell her bad news as Scott continued.
“One of the top doctors came to speak to us about fifteen minutes ago. She said they can see something on the scan, a small growth close to the optic nerve. She says it’s in a bad place for surgery. They want to transfer her to Great Ormond Street Hospital in London tomorrow, to see a specialist. I’m going to have to ask you to bring us those things down to London tomorrow, Tony. I will ring you when we know the ward name. Got to go now mate, I’m whacked out”.
Still holding the phone, the buzzing noise after Scott had hung up hadn’t even registered.
Eventually, Annie’s voice made him replace the receiver. “What is it Tony? Tell me! What is it?” When he slowly turned to her and she saw the tears in his eyes, her legs buckled at the knees, and he rushed forward and grabbed her.
The next morning, Tony rang his boss early to tell him he wouldn’t be in. Not that day, and maybe not for a while. When he had explained why, the man didn’t hesitate. “Kev can cover your work, Tony. Take as long as you need, and let me know if there’s anything I can do. I don’t know what else to say mate, but I am hoping for the best for your family”.
Although he had been to London a few times when he was younger, and driven around it to get to car shows more recently, the solid traffic in the centre was something he wasn’t used to. When he eventually found the hospital in a side street opposite Russell Square, there was nowhere to park the Mark 5. He asked a man wearing a porter’s uniform who was outside smoking a cigarette, and he directed him to a car park at nearby Brunswick Square. The man stubbed the cigarette out onto the pavement as he was talking. “Pricey, mind. Gonna cost you a fair bit to leave it in there”.
Leaving Annie waiting in the main reception with the things they had brought, Tony parked the car, put the ticket in his wallet, and ran back as fast as he could. When they got up to the ward, they had to wait in a family room until Melanie came in to see them. Annie hugged her daughter, and they both burst into tears. Once they had calmed down, Mel took them through to the room.
Scott looked shattered, unshaven, and dark circles around his eyes. His own parents hadn’t made the trip. His dad was a retired police inspector, and they had retired to a bungalow in Skegness when he had suffered a mild stroke. He could no longer drive, and Scott had insisted that he not try to make the complicated train journey to London.
Little Angela was sleeping, and a tube ran from a bandage around her arm up to a drip bottle on a stand. Annie stroked the toddler’s head, fighting back more tears. Mel drunk half a bottle of coca-cola before telling them the news.
“Ten minutes before you got here, the consultant came in and told us that it’s too dangerous to do any operation with Angela being so young. He thinks there could be brain damage if he does, and that she could be blind for life too. He wants to wait until she is older, and check on her again in six months. Meanwhile, she will have medicine to control the fits, and regular checks on her eyesight in Lincoln or Nottingham. They said we can go home tomorrow, so if you can get a room near here, you could take us home about eleven in the morning”.
Standing up, Tony was calm and reassuring. “Leave it to me, Mel love. I will find a hotel room somewhere”.
Poor Angela, indeed. Lets hope there will be found a solution. Best wishes, Michael
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I’m sure they will, Michael.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Reblogged this on OPENED HERE >> https:/BOOKS.ESLARN-NET.DE.
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Wow, this took a serious turn!
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I wanted to wake everyone up, John. I think that worked. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Oh, my. This is not good.
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Hang in there, Jennie. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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I will! Best to you, Pete.
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Hoping things turn around, poor Angela, always hard when tragedy hits a young one. Warmly, C
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Trust me, Cheryl. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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Like others not a fan of this twist , Pete.x
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Just trying to reflect real life, Carol. Last episode soon.
Best wishes, Pete. x
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I lnow, Pete and you portrayed it well just a little close to home for me x
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Stick with it for the last episode. x
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I will, Pete x
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Sigh. I’m not liking this either Pete.😕
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More to come, Kim.
Best wishes, Pete.
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I hit LIKE, Pete but I sure don’t like this turn of events.
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Stick with it, Don.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Sigh. . . I could deal with a thrown rod, an intermittent vacuum leak, a minor crash involving quarter panel replacement, or even spun crankshaft bearings.
But a brain tumor on a tiny wee fictional character? That really, really hits hard Pete.
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Real life is often very sad, Chris.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Wait a minute…what about the Consul Cortina? The Mark 5 going to get nicked….and then….
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Nice try, Carolyn. Off the mark though. 🙂
Best wishes, Pete.
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oh no –
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Sadly, Beth, it is ‘Oh Yes’!
Best wishes, Pete.
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(1) Bad citation: “Tony felt Annie’s eyes boring into the back of his head, and started to wonder if she could see what he was thinking. He needed intracranial thought surveillance like a hole in the head.”
(2) The small growth on Angela’s optic nerve allowed her to envision Nirvana.
(3) Great Ormond Street Hospital? G.O.S.H., what a name!
(4) Tony wouldn’t have been bothered by a buzzing noise in his ear if he’d removed the ear wax in it. I’ve heard that ear wax attracts bees.
(5) Overheard:
Boss: “Kevlar can cover your work, Tony.”
Tony: “Oh, is that what those Sleaford slip covers are made of?”
(6) Riddle:
Q. What is the opposite of spontaneous human combustion?
A. A sudden bursting into tears.
(7) Mel drunk half a bottle of Coca-Cola before telling them the news. “They don’t have Pepsi here at the hospital. That’s because Coke won the Pepsi Challenge.”
(8) Overheard:
Melanie: “So what’s the diagnosis, doctor?”
Dr. Abby Normal: “She may have brain damage.”
Melanie: “Is there anything we can do about that?”
Dr. Abby Normal: “Yes, we can do a brain transplant.”
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3) It is well-known in London as GOS, and advertises for its charity as GOSH.
1) I did guess you would make hay with this one.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Well at least the bairn’s not dead. Yet.
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No, she’s hanging on.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Not good
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Definitely not good, Sue.
Best wishes, Pete.
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Sadly not…
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