My boyfriend and I both got acute appendicitis after a bad meal. His parents drove 300 miles overnight to be with him. His mom sat by his bed, crying, while his dad rushed around paying bills and picking up prescriptions. My parents, who live in the same city, finally called the next day. Their voices were full of concern. "Oh, sweetie, you scared Mommy to death! How did this happen? You poor thing. "Is the surgery over? That's good! Well, honey, we're not going to come down. Your brother is a senior this year, and we can't leave him. Insurance should cover most of it, right? "Do you have enough money? If not... maybe you could ask a coworker for a loan?" 1 I was on a video call with my boyfriend, Michael, when a pain like a power drill shot through my stomach. On the other end of the line, his voice was weak. "Jenna, my stomach is killing me. I think I need to go to the hospital..." "Me... too..." The pain made me break out in a cold sweat. I could barely hold my phone. We both ended up calling 911 and, in a strange twist of fate, were admitted to the same floor of the same hospital. Michael was in room 308, I was in 312. The surgery went well. When the anesthesia wore off, I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. The nurse said I needed someone to stay with me, at least for the first night. "Should I call your parents?" she asked kindly. I shook my head and fumbled for my own phone. "Mom..." my voice was as faint as a whisper. "Jenna! What happened?! Your aunt said you were in the hospital? You had surgery?" My mom's voice was frantic. A lump formed in my throat. At the end of the day, she was still my mom. She still cared. "Yeah, acute appendicitis. They operated last night. I'm feeling a lot better now." "Oh, my God, you scared me to death! What happened? Did you eat something bad? Oh, my poor baby girl, you've been through so much!" She went on and on, her voice full of worry. The self-pity I'd been feeling washed over me, and I almost started crying. "Mom..." "Well, as long as the surgery is over, that's all that matters! Oh, you kids... you're giving your father and me a heart attack!" she continued. I gathered my courage. "Mom, the nurse said I need someone to stay with me tonight..." I was hoping she'd say, "We're on our way." But her tone shifted. "Jenna, honey, look... the surgery's done, you're fine... It's just... it's a real hassle for us to get down there. And your brother, Tyler, has his SATs coming up. This is a critical time for him. We can't even let him eat out for a single meal. We're just... we're swamped." My heart sank. "Oh... it's okay. You guys are busy." My own voice sounded hollow. "Oh, good! I'm glad you understand! Oh, by the way," she said, as if just remembering, "the surgery, insurance will cover it, right? Do you have enough money? If not, maybe you could ask a friend or a coworker for a loan to tide you over?" After I hung up, I stared at the ceiling, the tears finally falling. The woman in the bed next to me looked over, concerned. "Honey, you don't have anyone to stay with you? I can call for a private nurse if you want." I shook my head, my voice hoarse. "Thank you, ma'am, but I'll be fine." Just then, the door creaked open. It was Michael, slowly making his way in, pushing his IV stand. "Jenna, how are you feeling? My parents are here. They brought a ton of food. Want some?" Behind him stood a middle-aged couple. The woman was carrying two insulated containers, and the man had a bag of fruit. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Davis..." I struggled to sit up. "Oh, honey, don't move!" Mrs. Davis rushed over and gently pushed me back down. "Michael told us you both got sick at the same time! What are the odds? How are you feeling? Still in pain?" I shook my head, my nose starting to sting again. "I made some chicken soup," she said, opening one of the containers. A rich, delicious aroma filled the room. "I simmered it all morning. It's very nourishing. You should have some." "Thank you, Mrs. Davis. You really didn't have to." "Nonsense! Michael told us you're here all by yourself, with no family nearby. It's our pleasure to help." She ladled some soup into a bowl, carefully blew on it to cool it down, and handed it to me. My hand trembled as I took the bowl. Through the steam, I saw the genuine concern in her eyes, and I wanted to cry. "You're so kind," I whispered. "Silly girl. When your parents aren't here, we're your parents." She patted my head. "If you need anything, just let us know. Don't be shy." Mr. Davis was peeling an apple, expertly cutting it into small slices. "It's tough for you young people, working so far from home. It's when you're sick that you need someone the most. Michael's mom took a week off to take care of him, and I'm using my vacation time." I listened, a mix of emotions churning inside me. We were both their children, in a way. Michael's parents could take a week off to care for their son, but mine couldn't even be bothered to visit. 2 That afternoon, my mom called again. "Jenna, have you eaten? What did you have?" I looked at the chicken soup and rice Mrs. Davis had just brought me. "Yes," I said quietly. "The family of the patient next door brought me something." "Oh, that's wonderful!" Her voice brightened. "See? There are still good people in the world! Make sure you thank them properly!" "I will." "By the way, how much did the surgery cost? How much will insurance cover?" "The deposit was $10,000. I'm not sure how much will be reimbursed yet." "$10,000?!" Her voice shot up. "Why is it so expensive?! Isn't it a minor surgery?" "It's laparoscopic now," I explained. "The equipment is expensive, and so is the anesthesia." "That's highway robbery!" she said, her voice full of indignation. "Do you have enough money? If not, you need to let us know. I'll have your father borrow some." A small flicker of warmth ignited in my chest. "I have enough for now. I should get a lot of it back from insurance." "Oh, good, good," she said, relieved. "Your brother was just saying he wanted to video call you, but he was afraid of bothering you." "It's okay. I'm feeling much better." I actually wanted to see my brother. When the call connected, Tyler's face appeared on the screen. "Hey, sis. You feeling better?" "Much better. Thanks for asking." I was touched. He was finally showing some concern. "Hey, sis," he said, leaning closer to the screen. "Check out my new kicks. The new Kobe retros! They're limited edition!" I stared at the shoes on his feet, which had to have cost at least $200. I didn't know what to say. "Aren't they sick?" he asked, still showing them off. "They're nice," I said, my voice flat. "Mom bought them for me!" he said proudly. "A reward for my mock SAT scores!" From the other side of the screen, I heard my mom's voice. "Tyler, your sister is sick! Why are you talking about that now? Jenna, honey, you get some rest. We won't bother you." The call ended. I stared at the black screen, a heavy feeling in my chest. Mrs. Davis came back, this time with a bowl of congee. "Jenna, have some of this for dinner. It's easy to digest." "Thank you, Mrs. Davis. You're going to so much trouble." "No trouble at all!" she said with a smile. "Michael's dad is with him. I'm just sitting around anyway." She watched me eat, then asked, "Jenna, when are your parents coming? Do you need me to help you contact them?" I shook my head. "They're... not coming. My brother has his SATs soon. They can't get away." Mrs. Davis paused for a second, then patted my hand. "Of course. That's a big deal. Well, if you need anything at all these next few days, you just let me know. Don't you hesitate." That night, the pain from my incision kept me awake. I pressed the call button for the nurse. It took a while for her to come, and the pain was making me sweat. The woman in the next bed saw my distress and pressed the button again for me. "There's only one nurse on duty at night. She's swamped. Are you sure you don't have anyone coming to stay with you?" I shook my head, biting my lip to keep from crying out. Just then, the door creaked open. It was Mrs. Davis. "Jenna, you're still awake? I heard a noise." "The incision hurts," I said weakly. "I called for the nurse, but she hasn't come yet." "Oh, dear. You wait right here. I'll go find her." She left, and a few minutes later, she returned with the nurse. "Come on, dear, this child is in a lot of pain." The nurse gave me a painkiller, and the pain slowly started to fade. Mrs. Davis sat by my bed, holding my hand. "Feeling better? Does it still hurt?" I shook my head, the tears starting to fall again. "Much better. Thank you, Mrs. Davis." "Silly girl. You don't have to thank me." She wiped my tears away. "Go to sleep now. I'll stay here with you for a while." In that moment, I wished so badly that she was my mother. 3 The next morning, the phone woke me up. It was my mom. "Jenna, feeling better? Did you sleep well?" I looked around the empty room. "Much better," I said quietly. "That's good," she said, her voice cheerful. "Guess what? Your father bought a huge fish for your brother yesterday and made soup to help his brain! Tyler loved it!" I was silent, not knowing how to respond. "By the way, did you find out how much insurance will cover? If you get a lot back, you can just use that money for now. If it's not enough, let us know." "Okay." "Alright, well, you get some rest. I'm going to make your brother some lunch!" The call ended. I stared at the ceiling, a cold feeling spreading through me. Michael came to visit, pushing his IV stand. "How are you? Better?" I nodded. "Much better. Where are your parents?" "My dad went back to work, and my mom went to the grocery store." He sat down in the chair by my bed. "When are your parents coming?" "They're not," I said quietly. Michael frowned. "Why not? You still need someone to take care of you." "My brother has his SATs. They can't get away." I said the words, but I didn't even believe them myself. "The SATs are important, but you live in the same city. One of them could have stayed home, and the other could have at least brought you a meal." I forced a smile. "It's okay. I can take care of myself." "Take care of yourself?" Michael pointed at my hand, still connected to the IV. "You can barely even eat by yourself." Just then, Mrs. Davis returned with a big bag of groceries. "Jenna, you're awake! I bought you some fruit and snacks. For when you get hungry." She pulled out a fancy-looking container. "This is protein powder. For post-op recovery. It helped Michael recover really fast." "Mrs. Davis, that's too expensive. I can't take it." "Take it!" she insisted. "I already bought it, and I can't return it. It's hard for you young people, all alone out here. We have to look out for each other." I took the container, my eyes welling up again. At lunchtime, while Mrs. Davis was serving us food, my parents video-called. "Jenna, have you eaten? What are you having?" my mom's face appeared on the screen. I showed her the nutritious meal Mrs. Davis had made. "The family of the patient next door made it for me." "Oh, that looks delicious! See? There are still good people in the world!" my mom said with a laugh. "Tyler is having a feast today! Your dad made him lamb stew! It's very nourishing!" The camera turned to their dining table, which was laden with food. In the center was a large pot of steaming lamb stew. My brother was stuffing his face, grease dripping from his chin. "Hey, sis, look how tender this lamb is!" he said, showing off to the camera. A wave of resentment washed over me. "Mom, I could use some nourishment too..." "Oh, honey, you have the patient's family taking care of you!" my mom said dismissively. "This is a critical time for your brother. He needs to eat well! Okay, gotta go! The lamb will get cold!" The video ended. I stared at my phone, my hand trembling. Mrs. Davis had seen the whole thing. She sighed and patted my shoulder. "Jenna, honey, I'll make you lamb stew tonight." 4 That afternoon, the pain in my incision got worse, and I started running a low-grade fever. The doctor said it was a post-op infection and that I needed a stronger antibiotic, one that wasn't well-covered by insurance. The nurse brought me the bill. "You'll need to make another deposit of $5,000." I didn't have that much cash, and my credit card was maxed out. After a lot of hesitation, I called home. "Mom, my incision is infected. I need a different antibiotic, and insurance doesn't cover much of it. I need to pay another $5,000... I don't have enough. Could you... could you lend me some?" I asked, my voice small. There was a moment of silence on the other end, then my mom's frantic voice. "How much? $5,000? Why do we have to pay again?! Didn't we already pay $10,000?" "It's a better antibiotic. I have an infection..." I explained. "An infection? How could you be so careless!" Her voice was accusatory. "Did you not listen to the doctor? Did you move around too much? Did you eat something you shouldn't have?" "I didn't..." I said, my voice full of hurt. "You kids are so much trouble!" she complained. "And now we have to spend more money! I swear..." My dad seemed to take the phone. "Jenna, it's not that we don't want to help, but we just paid for Tyler's SAT prep course for next semester. It's a lot of money. Can you... can you figure something out? Ask a coworker? Or maybe talk to the hospital about a payment plan?" My mom added from the background, "Yeah, talk to the doctor! Can't you just use a cheaper antibiotic? You're young, you're not that fragile!" My heart turned to ice. "Dad, Mom, I'm your daughter. I'm sick. I need your help..." "We know you're sick, but what do you want us to do?!" my dad said, his voice full of irritation. "You've been working for years. You don't even have $5,000 saved up? How do you manage your money?" "I send money home every month..." I said quietly. "And how much is that?! Do you think your brother's education is free? Do you think the household runs on air?" his voice grew angrier. "Look, we'll see what we can do. We'll call you back later!" He hung up. I clutched my phone, the tears streaming down my face. Michael was standing in the doorway. He had obviously heard everything. He walked in, his face grim. "Jenna, your parents..." "They'll call back later," I interrupted, trying to fool myself. "They just don't have the cash on hand. They need some time to get it." Michael sat on my bed and took my hand. "Jenna, wake up. They're not going to send the money. Did you hear what they said? Is that how parents are supposed to talk to their sick daughter?" I shook my head, the tears falling faster. "No, they're just... they're just worried... Tyler really does need the money..." "Tyler needs money, but you don't?" Michael's voice was full of frustration. "You're lying in a hospital bed with an infection and a fever! You need this medicine! This is life or death!" "It's not life or death, it's just an infection..." I was still making excuses for them. Michael took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Jenna, I know you don't want to face it. But look at how my parents have been treating me these past few days, and how your parents have been treating you. Isn't the difference obvious?" I was silent. I knew he was right, but I didn't want to admit it. "Okay, how about this." Michael took out his phone. "I'll call your parents and tell them I'm lending you the money, and that I'll pay them back. Okay?" "No!" I said quickly. "That will just make them angrier..." Michael looked me in the eye. "Jenna, let's just try it. Just once. You call them one more time. Tell them the hospital is demanding the money, and that you can't get the medicine without it. Let's just see what they do. Please?" I hesitated, my mind at war with itself. I knew he was right, but I was terrified of confirming the horrible truth. "I'm scared..." I whispered. "You have to face it, Jenna," Michael said, his hands on my shoulders. "Otherwise, they'll keep treating you like this forever. You deserve better. You deserve to be loved, and cared for, and valued." I looked into his determined eyes and finally nodded. "Okay. I'll call."
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "385486", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel