Life's Too Short (The Friend Zone #3)(17)

I turned back to her. “And do what?”

“Fight for something that needs fighting for. Like disability rights.”

“Disability rights. That’s specific.”

“My sister was a wheelchair user before she died. You wouldn’t believe what it’s like for the disabled.” She ticked off on her fingers. “Discrimination, lack of resources, lack of basic accessibility. I mean, housing alone. Do you know how hard it is to find accessible, affordable housing for the disabled? It’s why so many disabled people end up in institutions or living in substandard or unsafe living conditions.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “And you think the cause could use another good lawyer?”

“Oh yeah.” Her lips twisted into a grin. “Especially one who likes a challenge.”

I gave her a small smile and looked at my watch. “I should probably let you get to sleep. It’s almost midnight.”

I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw a flicker of disappointment on her face. She handed me Harry. “Thanks for hanging out.”

“Thanks for having me over.”

Half an hour later, I was lying in bed and Vanessa knocked on the wall of my bedroom over my headboard.

I smiled and knocked back.





CHAPTER 6





IF YOU HAVE THIS SYMPTOM, YOU MIGHT BE DYING!




VANESSA

The numbness was back in my right hand.

I’d woken up this morning and fumbled my phone with fingers that felt dead.

It was 6:34 a.m. Saturday morning. I was sitting in the dark in my room wrapped in a blanket, my legs crossed on my bed, trying to do the in-through-the-nose, out-through-the-mouth breathing Yoga Lady had taught me to calm myself down. But the terror rolled through me like waves. It got bigger and bigger until it burst from my lips in a choking sob.

I didn’t want to wake Grace, so I stumbled to the bathroom with a hand over my mouth. I put the lid to the toilet down to sit and swiped open my phone to read the article on WebMD again, squeezing my right hand into a fist, feeling certain that I’d lost grip strength.

ALS can start off with something as simple as a weak feeling in your hands or feet. It’s a disease that attacks the brain cells that control a lot of your muscle movement.



ALS Association:

Gradual onset, generally painless, progressive muscle weakness is the most common initial symptom in ALS. Other early symptoms vary but can include tripping, dropping things, abnormal fatigue of the arms and/or legs, slurred speech, muscle cramps and twitches.



Mayo Clinic:

Hand weakness or clumsiness…



I don’t know why I needed to keep reading this. I knew exactly what this disease looked like.

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.

At first I’d hoped it was just carpal tunnel. But I’d gone in for testing, and it was negative. They’d wanted to send me for more study and I’d refused.

There was no test for ALS. They diagnosed it by excluding other diseases that mimic it and monitoring the progression of your deterioration. It could take up to a year of invasive procedures and poking and prodding before they slapped ALS on what was happening to me—and when they did, there was nothing to be done anyway. It was 100 percent fatal.

And now maybe the countdown had finally begun.

My life might officially be going from living to dying.

An average three-year life expectancy from the onset of symptoms—less if my family history was any indication. Melanie had lived only nineteen months after her voice started to slur, and she took the medications—which I would not.

I figured I had about a year. My muscles would continue to waste away, a little at a time. Then I wouldn’t be able to walk, feed myself, move. I was going to die unable to swallow, unable to speak, like Melanie had. Entombed in the prison of my own body, fully aware, until it paralyzed my lungs and I suffocated to death.

I put my phone facedown on the bathroom sink and sobbed into my hands.





CHAPTER 7





THINGS YOU CAN DO TO

MAKE YOURSELF HAPPY

(YOU WON’T BELIEVE #4!)




ADRIAN

I woke up to knocking on my door. I glanced at my phone. It was 7:03 in the morning. It was Saturday, so I didn’t have to work and I’d been planning on sleeping in. Damn. Probably Becky.

She’d texted me a few times last night to check in on the dog, and I hadn’t texted her back. She was probably here on her suicide watch.

Harry Puppins growled from the pillow next to mine as I threw off the covers and put on slippers. I’d started letting him sleep in the bed. I couldn’t stand the frail, confused way he looked at me when I’d put him in the laundry room at night.

He still bit me every chance he got.

I opened the door expecting my assistant, but it was Vanessa standing there. She had Grace strapped to her front in a baby sling. “Hey.” She beamed up at me.

I hadn’t seen her since Monday, five days ago, when we’d done dinner and The Office at her place. I’d worked late every night this week, and I hadn’t knocked to take her trash out again because I didn’t want to wake her up when I got home.

She’d been randomly sending me Office memes. It was like a tiny little smile that popped up on my phone once in a while to surprise me. I liked it—though I was too busy to respond most of the time.