Hope

“There is no hope for me, is there?” Said a teenaged boy, sitting up in his hospital bed.  

His mother, who sat next to him, lightly squeezed his hand in fear.  She shifted her worried gaze from her son to the doctor who had just entered the room.  

The doctor sighed.  “The brain tumor did come back.  There is hope though, if we operate immediately.”

The boy’s mother looked to be on the verge of tears.  “This would be his third brain surgery, how do we know this is the answer?”

“It’s the only option we have.” The doctor said to her, “The last two times, we didn’t remove every last bit.  We wanted to be careful not to harm him.  This time, it is crucial we get rid of all of it so this does not happen again.  As you know, this surgery won’t come without risks.”

The boy looked up at the doctor.  “What kind of risks?”  He was terrified about a third brain surgery.  He had barely made it out alive last time.  

The doctor hesitated before speaking.  “Because of the location of the tumor, Wyatt, it is possible that parts of your brain that control your speech could be affected.  To make it simple; you might not be able to talk.”

Wyatt choked back tears.  He needed to be able to speak.  He and some of his friends had just formed a band, and he was lead singer.  It was always his dream to sing in a rock band.  Now, this brain tumor could destroy everything for him.  

His mother could see that he was upset.  She was too.  


Later on, as Wyatt was prepped for surgery, he had a few last words with his mother.  

“No matter how hopeless things seem, never give up.  Keep your chin up high and you’ll make it through.  If you come out of this and you loose the ability to talk, be thankful you’re alive and that there are people who will still love you and always will.  And, that perhaps you weren’t meant to be a singer.  Maybe you were meant for something different.”

Wyatt relaxed quite a bit at her words.  “Thanks, Mom.”