Chapter Thirty-Six
Jesse
Before
“Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis,” my father’s doctor said.
I was sitting on the other side of his desk in the chair furthest from him. It didn’t matter how far away I was. It was so loud in my head, it was as though he were holding a megaphone, speaking directly into my ear.
Each word was like a fucking bomb.
My feet bounced from the aftershock. I wobbled in my chair. My body shook.
If there was a bucket in front of me, I was sure I would throw up into it.
The doctor’s lips were still moving. I heard nothing else that he said.
I could only focus on one thing.
The diagnosis.
ALS.
I knew in my gut before the testing had even started.
I knew it was going to lead to this moment.
But now I was here.
And …
Oh God.
I … grabbed fingers.
And I squeezed them with the little strength I had left.