David, spending a long Monday night in the ICU with Steven.
David and Steven are very close brothers. David admires Steven's qualities...studious, kind, fair. Steven quietly dreams of being like David...exuberant, uninhibited, and loud. They are so close, it only seems natural that one would feel the other's pain.
This week my time is devoted to David. This is a baseball, baseball, baseball week, as David has a tournament two hours from home. After a quick abdominal scan with Steven this morning, I trekked south to join David. Just him and me.
I started thinking about that comment in the guest book, and I decided to open the lines of communication with David. During one of our quiet moments today, over an Italian sub and a glass of soda, I asked David how he feels about Steven, the disease, and the surgeries.
I wasn't sure what to expect in return. David is not the sort to ponder and dream. David doesn't fret. He has no worries. David is the "here and now" sort of person that we all should be. And today, at that moment, we were having fun.
But David surprises me sometimes.
"Mom, the way I see it, it basically stinks. There's medicine for everything else. How come there's no medicine for VHL."
I do believe we'll have David serving pancakes in a few weeks!
stinks: my word, not his