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Post by 2old on Feb 6, 2019 16:52:06 GMT -5
(In the last novel we wrote, each poster offered a single sentence. In this edition, let's have each poster enter a single, short paragraph of no more than two or three sentences.)
CHAPTER 1
My 17 year old mind is numb since the diagnosis with an aggressive form of leukemia and that a stem cell transplant is needed to keep me alive. Mom and Dad are standing by, after being tested to see which will be the best fit for a donor, as the doctor walks through the hospital room door. The ashen look on the doctor's face tells us that something is seriously wrong.
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Post by TheSource on Feb 6, 2019 18:00:32 GMT -5
CHAPTER 1
My 17 year old mind is numb since the diagnosis with an aggressive form of leukemia and that a stem cell transplant is needed to keep me alive. Mom and Dad are standing by, after being tested to see which will be the best fit for a donor, as the doctor walks through the hospital room door. The ashen look on the doctor's face tells us that something is seriously wrong.
I watched as my Mom looked over at my Dad and knew that the news the doctor was about to offer wasn't going to be what they were hoping to hear. As my pain was now again starting to escalate, I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself mentally for what I knew the doctor was going to say. Just then, the Morphine pump kicked in and delivered what my body was craving.
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Post by 2old on Feb 6, 2019 20:56:45 GMT -5
CHAPTER 1
My 17 year old mind is numb since the diagnosis with an aggressive form of leukemia and that a stem cell transplant is needed to keep me alive. Mom and Dad are standing by, after being tested to see which will be the best fit for a donor, as the doctor walks through the hospital room door. The ashen look on the doctor's face tells us that something is seriously wrong.
I watched as my Mom looked over at my Dad and knew that the news the doctor was about to offer wasn't going to be what they were hoping to hear. As my pain was now again starting to escalate, I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself mentally for what I knew the doctor was going to say. Just then, the Morphine pump kicked in and delivered what my body was craving.
Upon seeing their daughter had allowed the morphine dose to allow the needed sleep to come, they turned to the doctor with worried looks on their faces. "What is it? Is it bad news? What's going on?" The doctor pointed to a couple of chairs in the room and asked them to sit down. "You are correct. The news is not good. The cancer is more aggressive than we anticipated. To have even a chance of survival, we must have a perfect DNA match. Even though both of you have DNA matches, for the sake of your daughter I would recommend we quickly see if an even better match can be found." With puzzled looks consuming their faces, Katy's dad asked "Is that possible? Where and how do we begin? Do we have time?"
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Post by TheSource on Feb 6, 2019 23:46:19 GMT -5
My 17 year old mind is numb since the diagnosis with an aggressive form of leukemia and that a stem cell transplant is needed to keep me alive. Mom and Dad are standing by, after being tested to see which will be the best fit for a donor, as the doctor walks through the hospital room door. The ashen look on the doctor's face tells us that something is seriously wrong.
I watched as my Mom looked over at my Dad and knew that the news the doctor was about to offer wasn't going to be what they were hoping to hear. As my pain was now again starting to escalate, I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself mentally for what I knew the doctor was going to say. Just then, the Morphine pump kicked in and delivered what my body was craving.
Upon seeing their daughter had allowed the morphine dose to allow the needed sleep to come, they turned to the doctor with worried looks on their faces. "What is it? Is it bad news? What's going on?" The doctor pointed to a couple of chairs in the room and asked them to sit down. "You are correct. The news is not good. The cancer is more aggressive than we anticipated. To have even a chance of survival, we must have a perfect DNA match. Even though both of you have DNA matches, for the sake of your daughter I would recommend we quickly see if an even better match can be found." With puzzled looks consuming their faces, Katy's dad asked "Is that possible? Where and how do we begin? Do we have time?"
Sleep was my only release from my world of pain but even then, my dreams were sometimes restless and fitful. I remember waking briefly to hear the subdued voices of my parents and the doctor huddling in the corner of the room no doubt discussing the bad news that I heard through the Morphine haze before I fell into my drug induced release to a world that I hoped would stay real. A world without pain and worry and of perfection. There I was free to live as I wanted and I felt like Wonder Woman being invincible against all foes. I must have been out for quite some time because upon waking, I found my room empty and silent except for the subtle sounds of the monitors that I was hooked up to.
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Post by 2old on Feb 7, 2019 8:11:12 GMT -5
CHAPTER 1
My 17 year old mind is numb since the diagnosis with an aggressive form of leukemia and that a stem cell transplant is needed to keep me alive. Mom and Dad are standing by, after being tested to see which will be the best fit for a donor, as the doctor walks through the hospital room door. The ashen look on the doctor's face tells us that something is seriously wrong.
I watched as my Mom looked over at my Dad and knew that the news the doctor was about to offer wasn't going to be what they were hoping to hear. As my pain was now again starting to escalate, I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself mentally for what I knew the doctor was going to say. Just then, the Morphine pump kicked in and delivered what my body was craving.
Upon seeing their daughter had allowed the morphine dose to allow the needed sleep to come, they turned to the doctor with worried looks on their faces. "What is it? Is it bad news? What's going on?" The doctor pointed to a couple of chairs in the room and asked them to sit down. "You are correct. The news is not good. The cancer is more aggressive than we anticipated. To have even a chance of survival, we must have a perfect DNA match. Even though both of you have DNA matches, for the sake of your daughter I would recommend we quickly see if an even better match can be found." With puzzled looks consuming their faces, Katy's dad asked "Is that possible? Where and how do we begin? Do we have time?"
Sleep was my only release from my world of pain but even then, my dreams were sometimes restless and fitful. I remember waking briefly to hear the subdued voices of my parents and the doctor huddling in the corner of the room no doubt discussing the bad news that I heard through the Morphine haze before I fell into my drug induced release to a world that I hoped would stay real. A world without pain and worry and of perfection. There I was free to live as I wanted and I felt like Wonder Woman being invincible against all foes. I must have been out for quite some time because upon waking, I found my room empty and silent except for the subtle sounds of the monitors that I was hooked up to.
The door opened and my parents walked back into the room. "Are you awake?" I nodded in the affirmative. "Through this illness, we have not hidden much from you. Either your Mother or I could be a donor of stem cells to help you. The doctor, however, feels neither of us is a perfect match and he would like to attempt finding someone out there whose stem cells would provide a better guarantee of a cure. You were never aware that I had a twin. He and I were both put up for adoption as infants and have never communicated, met, or even know where the other is. I don't even know if he is alive. The technology of today can research a large data base of DNA. If we do that and find a better match, it could be my long lost brother... if he is still alive. Your mother and I are on board with beginning the search. Are you?"
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Post by TheSource on Feb 7, 2019 22:04:51 GMT -5
CHAPTER 1
My 17 year old mind is numb since the diagnosis with an aggressive form of leukemia and that a stem cell transplant is needed to keep me alive. Mom and Dad are standing by, after being tested to see which will be the best fit for a donor, as the doctor walks through the hospital room door. The ashen look on the doctor's face tells us that something is seriously wrong.
I watched as my Mom looked over at my Dad and knew that the news the doctor was about to offer wasn't going to be what they were hoping to hear. As my pain was now again starting to escalate, I closed my eyes and tried to prepare myself mentally for what I knew the doctor was going to say. Just then, the Morphine pump kicked in and delivered what my body was craving.
Upon seeing their daughter had allowed the morphine dose to allow the needed sleep to come, they turned to the doctor with worried looks on their faces. "What is it? Is it bad news? What's going on?" The doctor pointed to a couple of chairs in the room and asked them to sit down. "You are correct. The news is not good. The cancer is more aggressive than we anticipated. To have even a chance of survival, we must have a perfect DNA match. Even though both of you have DNA matches, for the sake of your daughter I would recommend we quickly see if an even better match can be found." With puzzled looks consuming their faces, Katy's dad asked "Is that possible? Where and how do we begin? Do we have time?"
Sleep was my only release from my world of pain but even then, my dreams were sometimes restless and fitful. I remember waking briefly to hear the subdued voices of my parents and the doctor huddling in the corner of the room no doubt discussing the bad news that I heard through the Morphine haze before I fell into my drug induced release to a world that I hoped would stay real. A world without pain and worry and of perfection. There I was free to live as I wanted and I felt like Wonder Woman being invincible against all foes. I must have been out for quite some time because upon waking, I found my room empty and silent except for the subtle sounds of the monitors that I was hooked up to.
The door opened and my parents walked back into the room. "Are you awake?" I nodded in the affirmative. "Through this illness, we have not hidden much from you. Either your Mother or I could be a donor of stem cells to help you. The doctor, however, feels neither of us is a perfect match and he would like to attempt finding someone out there whose stem cells would provide a better guarantee of a cure. You were never aware that I had a twin. He and I were both put up for adoption as infants and have never communicated, met, or even know where the other is. I don't even know if he is alive. The technology of today can research a large data base of DNA. If we do that and find a better match, it could be my long lost brother... if he is still alive. Your mother and I are on board with beginning the search. Are you?"
I closed my eyes and began to weigh the pro's and con's of the question. If I agreed to it, it would mean getting my hopes up again only to have them potentially dashed once more and be wrought with the disappointment and severe depression that would inevitably ensue. If I declined, I would be, in essence, possibly signing my own death warrant and, knowing that, would ultimately send me into an even deeper, darker depression than that I was already experiencing. Either way, the daughters of fate, as I somehow already knew, would not smile favorably on me. But that little voice inside that I had suppressed for so long was again coming to life and urging me onward. I opened my eyes and managed to utter a meek "Yes."
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Post by 2old on Feb 8, 2019 6:57:28 GMT -5
CHAPTER 2
With the satisfaction their dying child had reached deep within herself, finding the strength to make the decision they hoped and prayed would bring healing, they turned to the doctor. "You heard her. How soon can you get the search started?" To which the doctor replied, "Over the past few days, I have learned the big heart and bright mind trapped within the ill body of your beautiful daughter. I had no doubt this fighter would want us to begin a search for a perfect donor. It is not within the young lady I know to just give up. Even though it may not have been within the principles of professional protocol, I asked a friend with the Bureau of Investigation to enter your daughter's DNA into the national data base late last night!"
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Post by TheSource on Feb 8, 2019 21:14:22 GMT -5
CHAPTER 2
With the satisfaction their dying child had reached deep within herself, finding the strength to make the decision they hoped and prayed would bring healing, they turned to the doctor. "You heard her. How soon can you get the search started?" To which the doctor replied, "Over the past few days, I have learned the big heart and bright mind trapped within the ill body of your beautiful daughter. I had no doubt this fighter would want us to begin a search for a perfect donor. It is not within the young lady I know to just give up. Even though it may not have been within the principles of professional protocol, I asked a friend with the Bureau of Investigation to enter your daughter's DNA into the national data base late last night!"
My parents seemed a bit taken aback at the liberty the doctor had taken without consulting them first, but glances towards each other told me that they were alright with his action. For a brief instant, I felt kind of special. Like a queen sitting on a throne made of gold knowing that my loyal subjects were so attuned and attentive to my every need. "Imagine that! I'm in the F.B.I.", I couldn't help but muse to myself and felt a half-smile come across my face. "I hope this all pans out.", I thought as I subconciously crossed my fingers.
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Post by 2old on Feb 8, 2019 22:07:31 GMT -5
CHAPTER 2
With the satisfaction their dying child had reached deep within herself, finding the strength to make the decision they hoped and prayed would bring healing, they turned to the doctor. "You heard her. How soon can you get the search started?" To which the doctor replied, "Over the past few days, I have learned the big heart and bright mind trapped within the ill body of your beautiful daughter. I had no doubt this fighter would want us to begin a search for a perfect donor. It is not within the young lady I know to just give up. Even though it may not have been within the principles of professional protocol, I asked a friend with the Bureau of Investigation to enter your daughter's DNA into the national data base late last night!"
My parents seemed a bit taken aback at the liberty the doctor had taken without consulting them first, but glances towards each other told me that they were alright with his action. For a brief instant, I felt kind of special. Like a queen sitting on a throne made of gold knowing that my loyal subjects were so attuned and attentive to my every need. "Imagine that! I'm in the F.B.I.", I couldn't help but muse to myself and felt a half-smile come across my face. "I hope this all pans out.", I thought as I subconciously crossed my fingers.
The burning question in the back of my mind was why neither of my parents was a good match for the stem cell transfer. Opening Chrome on my cell phone, I posed that question. It was surprising to find that less than 30% of the time there is a good parent-child match. So then, my mind churns with the "What ifs". What if a better match is not found in time? What if there is a perfect match and they won't be a donor? What if a perfect match is suffering from some other exotic illness and, medically, they cannot be a donor. Question after question after... The morphine is beginning to seep into my system and I can feel myself slowly dozing off.
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Post by TheSource on Feb 8, 2019 22:50:33 GMT -5
CHAPTER 2
With the satisfaction their dying child had reached deep within herself, finding the strength to make the decision they hoped and prayed would bring healing, they turned to the doctor. "You heard her. How soon can you get the search started?" To which the doctor replied, "Over the past few days, I have learned the big heart and bright mind trapped within the ill body of your beautiful daughter. I had no doubt this fighter would want us to begin a search for a perfect donor. It is not within the young lady I know to just give up. Even though it may not have been within the principles of professional protocol, I asked a friend with the Bureau of Investigation to enter your daughter's DNA into the national data base late last night!"
My parents seemed a bit taken aback at the liberty the doctor had taken without consulting them first, but glances towards each other told me that they were alright with his action. For a brief instant, I felt kind of special. Like a queen sitting on a throne made of gold knowing that my loyal subjects were so attuned and attentive to my every need. "Imagine that! I'm in the F.B.I.", I couldn't help but muse to myself and felt a half-smile come across my face. "I hope this all pans out.", I thought as I subconciously crossed my fingers.
The burning question in the back of my mind was why neither of my parents was a good match for the stem cell transfer. Opening Chrome on my cell phone, I posed that question. It was surprising to find that less than 30% of the time there is a good parent-child match. So then, my mind churns with the "What ifs". What if a better match is not found in time? What if there is a perfect match and they won't be a donor? What if a perfect match is suffering from some other exotic illness and, medically, they cannot be a donor. Question after question after... The morphine is beginning to seep into my system and I can feel myself slowly dozing off.
I must have dozed off for quite some time because when I awoke, it was dark outside. My room was empty and my dinner tray had been placed on the bedside table beside me still covered and untouched. For the first time in days, I felt the elusive pangs of hunger gnawing at my gut and reached for the tray. To my surprise as I lifted the cover, it wasn't the usual bowl of gelatin and cup of artificially flavored broth. It was something that I hadn't seen, or smelled for that matter of fact, in untold months. It was a cheeseburger with all the fixings and a side of fries. It was still warm to the touch which meant that it had been placed there not so long ago. I looked over at the clock on the wall and its displayed time told me that dinner time here in the hospital had been over for hours. "So where did this mouthwatering treat come from?", I was thinking, "But better still, 'who' brought this culinary wonder into my room?" Little did I realize as I gobbled down the burger, I was about to find out.
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Post by 2old on Feb 9, 2019 7:14:58 GMT -5
CHAPTER 2
With the satisfaction their dying child had reached deep within herself, finding the strength to make the decision they hoped and prayed would bring healing, they turned to the doctor. "You heard her. How soon can you get the search started?" To which the doctor replied, "Over the past few days, I have learned the big heart and bright mind trapped within the ill body of your beautiful daughter. I had no doubt this fighter would want us to begin a search for a perfect donor. It is not within the young lady I know to just give up. Even though it may not have been within the principles of professional protocol, I asked a friend with the Bureau of Investigation to enter your daughter's DNA into the national data base late last night!"
My parents seemed a bit taken aback at the liberty the doctor had taken without consulting them first, but glances towards each other told me that they were alright with his action. For a brief instant, I felt kind of special. Like a queen sitting on a throne made of gold knowing that my loyal subjects were so attuned and attentive to my every need. "Imagine that! I'm in the F.B.I.", I couldn't help but muse to myself and felt a half-smile come across my face. "I hope this all pans out.", I thought as I subconciously crossed my fingers.
The burning question in the back of my mind was why neither of my parents was a good match for the stem cell transfer. Opening Chrome on my cell phone, I posed that question. It was surprising to find that less than 30% of the time there is a good parent-child match. So then, my mind churns with the "What ifs". What if a better match is not found in time? What if there is a perfect match and they won't be a donor? What if a perfect match is suffering from some other exotic illness and, medically, they cannot be a donor. Question after question after... The morphine is beginning to seep into my system and I can feel myself slowly dozing off.
I must have dozed off for quite some time because when I awoke, it was dark outside. My room was empty and my dinner tray had been placed on the bedside table beside me still covered and untouched. For the first time in days, I felt the elusive pangs of hunger gnawing at my gut and reached for the tray. To my surprise as I lifted the cover, it wasn't the usual bowl of gelatin and cup of artificially flavored broth. It was something that I hadn't seen, or smelled for that matter of fact, in untold months. It was a cheeseburger with all the fixings and a side of fries. It was still warm to the touch which meant that it had been placed there not so long ago. I looked over at the clock on the wall and its displayed time told me that dinner time here in the hospital had been over for hours. "So where did this mouthwatering treat come from?", I was thinking, "But better still, 'who' brought this culinary wonder into my room?" Little did I realize as I gobbled down the burger, I was about to find out.
As the last of the juices from the delicious burger dripped from my chin, my parents walked through the door. Usually, my mother does most of the speaking. She was noticeably silent and my dad began... "The FBI turned up the perfect donor, evidently my long lost twin, almost immediately. The reason the match came back so quickly is that he is incarcerated in a maximum security prison in New York State. Prison officials cannot reach him to let him know what is going on or receive his consent to be a donor. The prison is in lockdown due to a riot. Guards have been killed, along with some prisoners. Since time is of the essence, we have to get his consent and do the transfer as soon as he can be extracted, if... IF he is not among those severely injured or killed. We thought you might enjoy a nice meal before going on a fun airplane ride. We are air-evacuating you to a hospital nearby the prison so that, if he is willing and able, we can proceed in due haste. You mother and I were talking. This is your first plane ride, isn't it?"
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Post by TheSource on Feb 9, 2019 22:29:43 GMT -5
Chapter 3
I was given a mild sedative to not only quell my anxiety about flying, but also to aid in my transport from the hospital to the plane. When I finally awoke, I learned that we were already halfway across the country. As the sedative was wearing off and my mind starting to clear, the act of flying no longer dominated my thoughts. Instead, I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that my Dad had a twin. Another walking, talking, breathing, thinking human that looked exactly like my father. A twin. I could hardly believe it. So many questions that I needed answers to. My mind was racing. Why hadn't he ever mentioned it? Why all the secrecy through the years about him? What was he trying to hide? Did my mother know about Dad's twin? Would I get the chance to meet him? I needed answers to these and so many more questions. But would I get them....
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Post by 2old on Feb 9, 2019 22:58:49 GMT -5
Chapter 3
I was given a mild sedative to not only quell my anxiety about flying, but also to aid in my transport from the hospital to the plane. When I finally awoke, I learned that we were already halfway across the country. As the sedative was wearing off and my mind starting to clear, the act of flying no longer dominated my thoughts. Instead, I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that my Dad had a twin. Another walking, talking, breathing, thinking human that looked exactly like my father. A twin. I could hardly believe it. So many questions that I needed answers to. My mind was racing. Why hadn't he ever mentioned it? Why all the secrecy through the years about him? What was he trying to hide? Did my mother know about Dad's twin? Would I get the chance to meet him? I needed answers to these and so many more questions. But would I get them....
As we began the descent for landing, I could feel my ears pop. The flight had been relatively smooth, though the first half I don't remember. Suddenly, the plane changed trajectory. Instead feeling we were slightly tilted towards the ground I could feel the plane begin to climb... and climb fast! Someone came out of the cockpit dressed in an aviator type suit. He told us, "Ground control has just informed us the airport our flight plan had us landing at has been taken over by a group of armed men. They appear to be accomplices of one of the rioting prisoners. That man is in prison for racketeering. He is what is known as a mafia boss. Law enforcement is tied up at the prison and the airport was left without security. We've been diverted to another airport, but are running extremely low on fuel. If need be, we will put down on the Interstate highway. Don't worry! We've landed in worse conditions. Remain calm. I will turn on the television for you folk. CNN is running wall-to-wall coverage of the prison riot and are showing pictures of the mob boss."
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Post by TheSource on Feb 10, 2019 21:53:41 GMT -5
Chapter 3
I was given a mild sedative to not only quell my anxiety about flying, but also to aid in my transport from the hospital to the plane. When I finally awoke, I learned that we were already halfway across the country. As the sedative was wearing off and my mind starting to clear, the act of flying no longer dominated my thoughts. Instead, I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that my Dad had a twin. Another walking, talking, breathing, thinking human that looked exactly like my father. A twin. I could hardly believe it. So many questions that I needed answers to. My mind was racing. Why hadn't he ever mentioned it? Why all the secrecy through the years about him? What was he trying to hide? Did my mother know about Dad's twin? Would I get the chance to meet him? I needed answers to these and so many more questions. But would I get them....
As we began the descent for landing, I could feel my ears pop. The flight had been relatively smooth, though the first half I don't remember. Suddenly, the plane changed trajectory. Instead feeling we were slightly tilted towards the ground I could feel the plane begin to climb... and climb fast! Someone came out of the cockpit dressed in an aviator type suit. He told us, "Ground control has just informed us the airport our flight plan had us landing at has been taken over by a group of armed men. They appear to be accomplices of one of the rioting prisoners. That man is in prison for racketeering. He is what is known as a mafia boss. Law enforcement is tied up at the prison and the airport was left without security. We've been diverted to another airport, but are running extremely low on fuel. If need be, we will put down on the Interstate highway. Don't worry! We've landed in worse conditions. Remain calm. I will turn on the television for you folk. CNN is running wall-to-wall coverage of the prison riot and are showing pictures of the mob boss."
As I sat watching the TV, all my questions were still whirling around in my head. The coverage on CNN was nothing but shots of footage that had already happened and showed the prisoners commandeering several vehicles. The anchorman kept breaking in over and over explaining what had happened saying the same thing over and over only in a different way each time. After about five minutes of this monotonous monologue, I was about ready to turn off the TV but a banner proclaiming breaking news flashed across the screen accompanied by the usual attention-grabbing music. "This just in!", the voice on the television said with a bit of excitement. "The first photos of who the authorities suspect of being the brains behind the prison riot and the resulting escape.", the anchorman went on to say excitedly. What I saw next had me riveted to the screen and sent chills through my fragile body shaking me to my core. I was looking at my Dad on the TV only it wasn't my father. It was his twin. For the first time I was seeing the very man they said that was my perfect match for stem cell donation.
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Post by 2old on Feb 11, 2019 8:05:46 GMT -5
Chapter 3
I was given a mild sedative to not only quell my anxiety about flying, but also to aid in my transport from the hospital to the plane. When I finally awoke, I learned that we were already halfway across the country. As the sedative was wearing off and my mind starting to clear, the act of flying no longer dominated my thoughts. Instead, I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that my Dad had a twin. Another walking, talking, breathing, thinking human that looked exactly like my father. A twin. I could hardly believe it. So many questions that I needed answers to. My mind was racing. Why hadn't he ever mentioned it? Why all the secrecy through the years about him? What was he trying to hide? Did my mother know about Dad's twin? Would I get the chance to meet him? I needed answers to these and so many more questions. But would I get them....
As we began the descent for landing, I could feel my ears pop. The flight had been relatively smooth, though the first half I don't remember. Suddenly, the plane changed trajectory. Instead feeling we were slightly tilted towards the ground I could feel the plane begin to climb... and climb fast! Someone came out of the cockpit dressed in an aviator type suit. He told us, "Ground control has just informed us the airport our flight plan had us landing at has been taken over by a group of armed men. They appear to be accomplices of one of the rioting prisoners. That man is in prison for racketeering. He is what is known as a mafia boss. Law enforcement is tied up at the prison and the airport was left without security. We've been diverted to another airport, but are running extremely low on fuel. If need be, we will put down on the Interstate highway. Don't worry! We've landed in worse conditions. Remain calm. I will turn on the television for you folk. CNN is running wall-to-wall coverage of the prison riot and are showing pictures of the mob boss."
As I sat watching the TV, all my questions were still whirling around in my head. The coverage on CNN was nothing but shots of footage that had already happened and showed the prisoners commandeering several vehicles. The anchorman kept breaking in over and over explaining what had happened saying the same thing over and over only in a different way each time. After about five minutes of this monotonous monologue, I was about ready to turn off the TV but a banner proclaiming breaking news flashed across the screen accompanied by the usual attention-grabbing music. "This just in!", the voice on the television said with a bit of excitement. "The first photos of who the authorities suspect of being the brains behind the prison riot and the resulting escape.", the anchorman went on to say excitedly. What I saw next had me riveted to the screen and sent chills through my fragile body shaking me to my core. I was looking at my Dad on the TV only it wasn't my father. It was his twin. For the first time I was seeing the very man they said that was my perfect match for stem cell donation.
At seventeen years old, can my mind even encompass... even begin to analyze this moment in time. I'm dying of an aggressive form of cancer. An uncle that I never knew I had and have never met is the only person on God's Green Earth that has the potential of providing life saving stem cells. That uncle is a convicted murderer... a crime boss... recently escaping from a maximum security Federal prison. The same FBI that went beyond the call of duty to find a stem cell match is now hunting that donor with a "dead or alive" protocol. I am on an airplane, strength waning, about to land in a city where I've never been and be admitted to a hospital where I don't know the doctors or nurses. As my eyes begin to fill with the tears of fear and frustration, I am hit with the most important question of all... How long do I have left? Hours... days... weeks... Will I even see my eighteenth birthday?
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