Made of Glass

I watched the world around me with envy from the window of my car, teenagers laughing and enjoying their time together. A guy with red hair shoved the blonde girl to the ground and my heart leapt in my chest. With a small laugh the girl gets up and dusts herself off. I roll my eyes and peer at the traffic light. I sigh once it turns green turning into the hospital parking lot. College started a week ago, I was fortunate enough to convince my parents to let me go. Even at 19 I was treated with kid gloves. My mind drifted through the conversation as I drove through the too familiar parking garage.

“I promise no funny business mom seriously” I’d begged.

She sighed heavily looking to my father, my eyes met his in a rush, pleading, hoping. He nodded and my mother let out another breath. “Night classes, a few times a week, no partying, no going out and doing stupid shit. I will let your teachers know of your…condition and they will give you the safest seat in the classroom. You will get to leave before the bell so you aren’t caught up in the sea of kids rushing to get to their next class. You will call me every week and keep me updated. If you fall and hurt yourself you must call 911 immediately-”

“I will I promise” I cut her off excitedly.

“One more thing… you will go to the same school as your brother so he can keep an eye on you” she said and I nearly rolled my eyes. “You will keep up on your meds and doctors visits…if you can do all of this…I guess, you’re 19 we can’t talk you out of it” she said worriedly looking at my dad. I couldn’t help it I squealed and jumped around hugging my mom and dad.

“Careful Kayla” My mother rushed and I sighed with a nod.

“Thank you! Thank you! I love you a hundred times” I rushed.

“I love you a million times” my mom whispered.

“I love you a billion” I said.

“I love you infinity” she said as she kissed my forehead.

“You win” I whispered.

Saying my parents were overprotective was truly the understatement of the century. Not that I could really blame them. At 8 months old I was crawling on the floor and slipped, fell on my elbow. Mom said she never moved so fast. An ER visit later the decided to run tests to figure out why my bones were so weak, even for my age. Which included but not limited to…X-rays, DEXA scans, lab tests IE (blood, saliva, and even my vitamin D levels), Bone Biopsy and many more. To which it turned out that I have the rarest type of a disease called OI, Osteogenesis Imperfecta. By the time I turned 6 I had already had 4 surgeries from school accidents, and it was decided to home-school was the best option. I didn’t mind much my teacher was nice enough.

My parents became the way they are now after that, I had a private tutor Mrs. Lily and even a babysitter Marley. As I got older though I noticed other kids my age weren’t going to the hospital every time they fell down. They weren’t saddled with PT and having a revolving number of doctors' visits. Safe to say that I ended up learning from mom that I wasn’t like most kids my age. Made of the finest glass she’d tell me. We have to protect it she remarked. She made me feel like I had a superpower. To a kid, that’s everything.

But it didn’t last, I didn’t have friends, I wasn’t allowed to go out, I didn’t meet boys or go on dates. I was sure they’d see me as a freak. Growing up it was always “Landon don’t push her too hard you could hurt her” she’d yell at my brother. “George don’t hit her on the back like that you could shatter her ribs” she’d yell at my dad. To have a brother who won’t play with you out of fear, a dad that won’t pat you on the back in fear of sending you to the hospital and a mother who won’t ever squeeze to hard in fear of breaking a bone is hard for a kid to comprehend.

It is still hard for me to comprehend now, I mean having ‘The Talk’ with your mom was hard enough mine went something like. "He has to know he can’t be too rough because he could break your pelvis”. Romantic I know. I walked through the familiar hallways; I bobbed and wove around people and other patients. Dr. Graznek was my Orthopedist, he was older, the type of 50 year old dad that loved barbecue and corn hole. I opened the door that read Central Health Orthopedics. I walked up to the front counter and gave Pam my winning smile. “Pam” I said drawing out her name.

“Hi Kayla, take a seat he’ll be ready for you in a few minutes. I’ll let him know you’re here” she remarked and I nodded taking my usual seat. I grabbed my book from my bag and silently read until my name was called.

“Hey Kayla” Sam said with a soft smile. Sam was a nurse here, often times she’s the only one who kept me sane.

“Hi Sam”

“Have you kept up on your medication?”

“Every day at Ten AM on the dot” I said and she nods.

“Scale” she says.

“125…good no weight loss so that is fantastic. How’s your appetite?” Sam looked up from her chart as she walked me to my usual room.

“Good what about you?” I asked waving my eyebrows at her. She threw her head back and let out a laugh that sounded like bells.

“It’s been great thanks for asking” she said offering a wink. “So you’re on the third month of your trial, we ran tests the last time you were here so we should have the results from that. But a little spoiler, it seems like the trial is working, which is amazing. If the trial could cure you, you can have a life…a real life” she said. She grabbed my hand the warmth wrapping around mine and sent me a soft smile. I squeezed slightly and she sat back.

“Let’s finish the chart…Yeah?” she said and I nodded.

***

“Alright Kayla the Bisphosphonate medicine and the clinical trial medications appear to be working. Slowly getting surely, your bones are getting stronger. This is good, this also means we could get you to have the bone strength of the average person in 5 years from the outlook if everything goes good so that means no-"

“No partying, no falling, no fights, no crazy ideas, and no bumping the walls I get it Dr. Graznek I get it. And absolutely positively no fun” I huffed.

“5 years, that’s what we’re looking at Kayla. You’re lucky this clinical trial is going so well for you. Others haven’t had the same luck and it’s 5 years versus your whole life dealing with this. If you stay safe and focus on getting through this. You could live a normal life. You could even scrape your knee without having to come see me”.

I smiled a little at the last part. I remember being 6 and coming in for a fall, I had fractured my kneecap because I slipped in the kitchen and fell on my knee. And I told him then, “can’t scrape my knee without having to come see you, huh doc?”. “5 years versus the rest of my life huh?” I asked and he nodded his salt and pepper hair moving slightly with him. “I can do that” I said and he smiles wrinkles appearing on his face in delight.

“Good, here let me help you off the- Never mind.”

“I’m not made of glass Dr. Graznek” I joked with a wink.

“You might as well be Kayla” he said back with a pointed look. I waved him off with a nod and went to the front of the office to see Pam.

“Three-week checkup?” She asked and I nodded.

“Same as always”

“Friday morning at 7, I have you down. See you then Kayla.”

“Bye Pam” I waved as I softly pushed the door open and made my way to the elevator. I passed the door to the oncology floor and sent a sad smile over to a parent who had been crying.

I pressed floor 1 and heard a deep voice say “wait stop the elevator”. I looked at the door I couldn’t put my hand in the middle of it. That would definitely cause a fracture…I froze for a few more seconds debating on what they do when I looked over and saw the open-door button. I reached over to hit it when an arm startled me and caused me to jump. Dark brown almost black eyes pierced through the small opening. I stepped back and adjusted my bag hitting the button calmly.

“You know you could’ve just put your arm in the door” he said. The stranger was tall, and his brown hair was dark almost black but had a slight cool hue. My caramel brown hair seemed to dull in comparison.

I shrugged in response and moved back out of his way. “Wow thanks” he muttered. I said nothing just peered at him from the corner of my eye. He was attractive, that’s for sure I tried my best not to stare.

I looked at his wrist and saw the visitor wristband for the gynecology floor I scrunched my eyebrows. That doesn’t make sense the gynecologist office is 3 floors up.

“The elevator on the 8th floor isn’t working. So they sent me here” he muttered as if he knew what I was thinking. I ripped off my wristband and shoved it into my pocket.

“I’ve seen you around campus aren’t you a day student?” I asked stupidly knowing he was.

He scoffed “do I look like I wanted to talk to you?” He said rudely.

“You spoke to ME first” I added childishly.

“Yes, because you were staring at my wristband like a weirdo. What are you even doing here?”

“My mom works here” I decided on a half-truth. The last thing I needed was for it to get around school that I had some disease. “She is an OBGYN”

“I didn’t see you on the floor” he said suspicious. I didn’t hesitate and tried to lie the best I could.

“I was here to have lunch with her if you must know. And she also told me the elevators weren’t working. I was in the back, why does this matter again?” I said turning it around on him.

“You know what? it doesn’t. I didn’t want to talk to you anyway.”

“Why did you?”

“Can you just shut up for one minute? God, do you have to fucking talk so much?”

“Language” I chastised.

“Excuse me?” He spoke.

“I said language” I hated cussing, don’t get me wrong I cuss every once in a while, or when I’m upset, but that doesn’t mean I like it.

He started laughing “are you joking?”

“Does it look like I’m joking?” I said with a sigh crossing my arms. He chuckled before he realized that he was and in a flash his demeanor went cold. He didn’t say anything for the rest of the elevator ride and once it dinged, he rushed off before I had a chance to say anything.

What a weirdo? An attractive weirdo but still, a weirdo. I shook my head and walked towards my car. As soon as I sat down I made my way to the pharmacy to pick up my prescription and then to PT. A life of doctors and medications. That’s what I have to look forward to for the next 5 years. But I can deal with 5 more years, 5 more years versus the rest of my life…