16 Things I Thought Were True Read Online Free PDF Page A

from the old man beside her.
    I walk closer and see she’s tucked into a narrow bed. The steel sides of the bed are pulled up, almost as if she’s in a crib for adults. Her eyes are closed, and plastic tubes stick out of her. She’s attached to a pole with IV bags hanging from it and more tubes that run to another machine. It looks scary and obscene, as if she’s a giant voodoo doll. I worry I’ll trip on a tube and unplug her and try not to imagine what will happen if I do.
    She looks tiny and vulnerable under the thin covers. Her hospital gown falls opens at the neck, and her skin is translucent. I study her pale face, and it occurs to me that she doesn’t have her lipstick on. She always does her makeup so early in the morning, it’s rare to see her without it.
    She’s incredibly still, no indication of her chest rising and falling even. Worried she’s not breathing, I move closer and hold my hand above her mouth. She swats away my hand and rubs her nose. Then she sputters and opens her eyes and glares at me. I pull my hand back.
    â€œGeez, Mom. You scared me,” I say and drop my backpack on the ground beside her bed.
    â€œDid you think I was dead?”
    I frown at her, and she giggles, but it’s frail and fades off. Jake steps behind me and reaches over and pats Mom’s hand.
    â€œChaps, quit bugging Mom.” He bumps my hip with his, and I shut my mouth even though I didn’t mean to bug her. She actually freaked me out.
    â€œHi, boys,” she says and smiles, but it’s weak and fades quickly too.
    Josh hangs back, behind Jake and me.
    â€œI’m really tired,” Mom says, looking at Josh.
    He shuffles his feet but doesn’t respond.
    â€œYou’ll be fine, Mom. You’re a tough old broad.” Jake glances back at Josh and frowns and then turns back to Mom and pats her hand.
    There’s a cough behind us and we all turn. Dr. Sally grabs the privacy curtain and expertly swings it all around, so we have a false sense of isolation from the other patients in the room. “We have you scheduled for an angiogram in two days,” she says to Mom. She turns to Jake and me. “We’re keeping her admitted to keep an eye on her. Because her blood pressure is high, and she’s been short of breath, we want to monitor her. She’s high risk for a heart attack.”
    I picture a doctor on TV rubbing together a defibrillator and trying to shock someone’s heart to start up. Mom closes her eyes.
    â€œWhat exactly is an angiogram?” Jake asks.
    â€œBasically an X-ray of her arteries, so we can see what’s going on around her heart. We’ll check for blockages. We can do the angioplasty if need be.”
    Dr. Sally goes on, describing what they’re going to do in the angiogram, inject a dye into her and poke around her insides and what they’ll see if she needs angioplasty. My stomach swoops, and my head sways with a dizzy queasy sensation. I shut my eyes. This is not supposed to be happening to my mom. She’s not a sixty-year-old man with a bad heart. I open my eyes when the doctor stops talking, and she’s glancing at her watch.
    â€œAny other questions?” she asks briskly.
    â€œHow old are you?” Josh asks.
    She blinks at him, presses her lips together, and raises her eyebrows. “I’m thirty-five. And if you’re concerned, my credentials are impeccable. I’ve performed this procedure dozens of times.”
    Josh doesn’t take his gaze off her. “You look young is all,” he says.
    I honestly can’t tell if he’s worried about her qualifications or if he’s trying to flirt and figure out if she likes twenty-somethings with mustaches. It’s hard to say which is worse.
    â€œThank you,” she says without a trace of thankfulness. She looks down at her watch again and then up at us. “Right. Don’t tire her out. I have another patient