Wednesday morning Devon had awoken with a smile on her face at last. She was feeling a little better, and she was ready for school. She was one of the only fifth graders who loved school. She loved reading and writing, and seeing her friends brightened her day.
She didn't know how much of an impact she had on all the other kid's lives. She had no enemies, she was friendly and kind to everyone. Her teachers and peers loved to see her walk in smiling each day, they could always count on her to put them in a happy mood.
She shared stories of ballet with her friends and they all sighed as they wished they could be a wonderful as her. Everyday at recess there was a crowd around her as stood in the grass and taught the other girls simple ballet steps. She was patient with them as she taught them the easiest steps, the steps she had been doing since she was four.
They all loved her daily lessons and looked forward to them. As soon as they bell rang and they were let out, they would rush over to the spot where she would teach them. They were all working hard that Wednesday afternoon. Devon was teaching the girls how to dance at the moment her mom received the phone call.
"Hello, Mrs. Mathews. This is Doctor Hartwell. Your daughter's test results are back from the lab, and we're afraid she's going to have to come back in for a few more tests. Can you bring her in as soon as possible?"
"Yes. I can bring her after school today. Is something wrong?" Worry crossed her mother's face as she thought of all the things that could be happening to her daughter.
"Well, we just need these few tests to make sure she's ok; nothing to worry about."
That happened all the time, too. The doctors always reassured the patients that they were going to be ok, no matter how sure they were that I was there. They knew I was in the body. They knew I was taking it over. They knew, yet they didn't tell until they did a multitude of tests, as if they were building up the tension for the moment when they would say my name.
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Devon's mom picked her up from school and broke the news that they would be going back to the doctors office once again. They both knew this wasn't anything normal, I could see it on their faces, but they drove along in silence, not saying a word about it.
The car ride seemed to take forever and when they finally pulled up to the office, Devon was reluctant to get out of the car.
"What are they gonna do to me?" Devon sighed, "is this gonna hurt?"
"I don't know honey," her mom wished she could comfort her. She knew it was hard for her to be missing practices for doctors appointments.
As soon as they walked in they were given immediate attention. It was obvious something was up.
They took more blood from Devon and said they were going to do a Bone Marrow Test. She was terrified, it sounded scary and painful. I chuckled at her terror, for she had no idea what she was in for. She thought this would be the worst part, but she hadn't even found out about me yet. It would get worse, much worse.
They laid her on the examining table, flat on her stomach. She cringed as they stuck the needle in her, injecting medicine that would numb the pain for the next part of the test. Next came the painful part. A huge needle, much bigger and thicker than any normal needle, was stuck into her hipbone and her bone marrow was removed. She wanted to cry at the pain, but instead stayed strong. I could tell she was going to be a fighter.
They left the doctors office, Devon with a brave face, wanting to go to dance class. Her mom was so awestruck at how devoted her child was. She had just endured needle after needle and was in so much pain, yet was still ready and willing to dance.
"You can stay home today, if you want," she tried to think of a way to persuade her to take it easy, "we can rent movies and make popcorn, we'll just have a girls night. Together."
Devon knew how much her mom loved her, and didn't want to disappoint her, but dance was her passion, and she wasn't going to give it up, no matter how hard it would be to dance through this. Once she had made it clear that her mom could not make her skip practice, they got in the car and drove to the studio.
Devon was late, and the other girls looked at her with snide looks. Some of them were stuck up towards Devon, but you could tell it was jealousy. Devon was always nice to them even through their rude looks and unkind remarks. She threw them all a "sorry" and a smile, and began to lace up her ballet slippers. She got ready as fast as she could, and quickly stretched, then joined in right with everyone else.
She was as graceful as ever, as she tried not to cringe at each step she took. "Maybe this is too much for me," she thought, but then quickly pushed the thought from her head, and kept dancing. Her instructor could tell she wasn't her usual self and pulled her aside during break.
Devon told her what she had just endured at the doctor's office and she knew that they didn't give just anyone a bone marrow test. This was serious. She didn't know if Devon should be dancing, but class was almost over, and if this was something serious this could be Devon's last time dancing for a while. She decided to let her keep going but told her to take it easy and sit it out for a while if anything began to hurt.
Devon was hurting, the pain was excruciating, yet she couldn't seem to let herself stop. Her movements flowed delicately, her dancing alluring as usual.
Devon went on like normal, dancing and having fun. She didn't think about the tests again, but those tests never left her mom's mind.
She researched on the internet for reasons they would give someone a bone marrow test. The answers she got were what she was expecting--and what she was afraid of. They only gave someone one of those tests if they thought it was something serious like cancer. It was used to confirm that a patient had leukemia. There I was, for the first time, staring her in the face, as she choked back tears. This was not the last time she would see me, and certainly not the last time I would make her cry.
