Chapter Three [The Bill]

“Ms. McLeary, I am sorry, but as someone with your condition, you are not a viable candidate for donation. Regardless if you are a match or not.”

Amelia had already known the doctor’s answer before she had even asked it, but a part of her just wanted to hear the words out loud. After arriving at the hospital to pick up her aunt, she had been pulled into the doctor’s office, where he had informed her of the seriousness of her aunt’s condition. She had gone in believing she was having another flare-up caused by her fibromyalgia, her back hurting so badly she could hardly move. Unfortunately, come to find out, it was actually her kidneys. They were failing, and according to the doctor, she would have to start dialysis within the coming week before it got even worse. For now, it was manageable, but it was best to put her on the transplant list. Amelia was not eligible because of her diabetes, and her aunt’s only other living family member was her missing brother, Amelia’s father. The transplant list was their only hope now.

“I understand. Can we make an appointment this week for the dialysis? I need to get my aunt home and head back to school.” Amelia said, needing to finish the final presentation for her advanced coding class.

“Are you the only one at home with your aunt?” The doctor asked, looking at his computer screen.

“Well, technically, I live close to campus, but I check on my aunt daily,” Amelia replied.

“Only once a day?” He inquired, looking at her now over the rim of his glasses.

He was an older gentleman, his hair completely white, though his hairline had not yet receded. If she had to guess, he was probably only in his sixties. His bedside manner, in her opinion, was not very pleasant. He was very methodical and to the point, which some might find a good trait in his line of work. However, as she stared back into his cold blue eyes, she wished she had someone with a bit more compassion. The last thing she needed today was a guilt trip from a man who knew nothing about her life.

“Yes, my aunt does not live close to the campus, and I do not own a car. I had to take the bus to get here, and I will order an Uber to get us home. My aunt has a car, but she does not drive it, and it needs to go to the shop,” Amelia responded, feeling like she had given more information than she needed to.

“Well, if it’s too much of an inconvenience for you to move back in with her or to visit her more than once a day, I am going to suggest a visiting nurse. I assume you come by in the evenings? The nurse will be there in the early mornings until the afternoon,” he informed her as he began typing away at his keyboard.

She could hear the slight condescending tone in his voice, and her irritation only grew. Was the nurse necessary, or was he just trying to make more money off her? She bit her lip to hold in her sigh. Was she being too sensitive? Her distrust of the medical industry had made her more cynical over the years. She just had to trust he was thinking of her aunt’s best interest. He finished typing and then hit a button which brought the printer to life behind him. Papers came out one by one and landed in the tray, which he grabbed and scribbled his haphazard signature across the bottom of the last page before handing it over to her.

“Take this to the receptionist, and she will get you the discharge papers and set up an appointment for you.”

“Thank you, Doctor Cassidy,” she said while standing up to head out of the room.

He merely nodded as a dismissal and went right back to his computer. Amelia turned and pushed open the door, stepping over the threshold before letting it close behind her with a loud thud. Once in the hall, she rushed toward the receptionist, handing over the paper and getting the discharge papers filled out all under fifteen minutes. She hoped Financial would not stop her on the way out. She would deal with them later. Right now, she just wanted to get her aunt home and head back to school.

  She waited for her aunt to be wheeled out by the nurses. The Uber driver had already sent a text saying he was out front, waiting. She glanced at the time on her phone and sighed, anxious to be going. She had to prepare for her final presentation and hand in an outline before the end of the day. A slot was reserved for her in the computer lab, and she planned to sit there the rest of the afternoon until she had to leave to get ready for work. Being late might make her lose her spot, and she much preferred to use the school computers rather than her own laptop, which tended to crash too often when she was in the middle of coding. She was in desperate need of a new one, another expense to add to her ever-growing list. She glanced down the hall, waiting to see her aunt, but instead, she saw a face she had been desperately trying to avoid.

The Head Financial Officer was walking in her direction, a determined look in her eyes. She was tall, in her fifties, and obviously someone who had no worries about money. She had a way of making Amelia feel inferior for not being able to pay the bills in full or not having proper insurance with just one simple look over her designer glasses.

Amelia turned, hoping she would not recognize her, but she already heard high heels approaching and tensed up when they stopped right beside her.

“Ms. McLeary? I hope you were not leaving without your bill. I just caught sight of your aunt, who told me you were waiting for her. She will be here soon. Do you have time to come and speak before you go?” she asked, her voice filled with accusation rather than actually questioning if Amelia really did have the time.

Amelia turned to look at her. Up close, she could see the disdain the woman was unable to hide behind her sharp green gaze. Her makeup was flawless, and her hair was dyed a deep burgundy and wrapped into an elegant French twist. She was wearing a black blazer over a white dress shirt, with a large blue bow tied around her neck. The ensemble was completed with a black pencil skirt, pantyhose, and black stilettos. She had a large diamond-and-silver wedding band on her left hand, along with even more expensive-looking jewelry, making it all too obvious how much she liked to show off her wealth. 

“Mrs. Feinstein, it’s nice to see you again. I am sorry I did not stop by. I am kind of in a hurry to get back to school and was hoping it would just be mailed, and I could call you about it another time,” Amelia replied, trying to hold back the sarcasm in her voice.

Mrs. Feinstein’s perfectly sculpted brows knitted together in judgment, her lips pressed into a thin line. She had a large packet in her hand and handed it to Amelia, just as she saw her aunt coming around the corner in a wheelchair.

“I hope to hear from you soon.” Mrs. Feinstein said before turning sharply and walking away.

Her aunt rolled up, a nurse in baby blue scrubs, pushing her and stopping right in front of Amelia. She gave Mrs. Feinstein a weary gaze before looking at Amelia, trying to give her a reassuring smile. She and Mrs. Feinstein were around the same age, but you would never know it. Her aunt looked much older than she should. Her brown hair was heavily streaked with gray, and she was even developing a bald spot on the back of her head. The hardships she had endured were etched into her face, mostly around her mouth and forehead, and her once warm brown eyes now looked dull and nearly lifeless. 

Amelia tried to smile back at her aunt before looking toward the nurse and taking over for pushing her the rest of the way. The nurse followed and helped get her aunt into the back of the Uber, for which Amelia thanked her before getting into the back of the car herself. The nurse closed the door, and Amelia told the driver the address of her aunt’s home. The driver punched it into his GPS before putting the car into drive and heading towards the street.

“Is that the bill?” her aunt asked softly, scrutinizing the large manila packet in Amelia’s hands.

Amelia looked down at it and then quickly went to tuck it away into her bag, reaching over and taking her aunt’s hand after she had put it away.

“Don’t worry. I will handle it,” she reassured her.

Her aunt remained silent and turned to look out the window. Amelia knew she felt guilty for the burden she thought she was being. When she had gotten the diagnosis, she believed she could still work in order to keep her insurance, but it became impossible. Amelia had to beg her to finally quit and to work towards getting on disability. It was much harder, though, than both of them had initially thought. They had a lawyer working on their case pro bono, but it was a long and lengthy process, and in the meantime, they could not get health insurance anywhere else since her aunt had a pre-existing condition. Now they both had to pay for the medical care out of their own pocket, and Amelia kept their heads just barely above water.

“Here we are,” announced the Uber driver, pulling into the driveway of her aunt’s house.

He parked and went to help them out of the car. Her aunt tried to protest about all the fuss being made over her and said she could walk just fine, but Amelia was not going to take the risk of her falling. Her aunt was much shorter than she was, the top of her head barely going to Amelia’s shoulder, so she had to lean down to have her aunt put her arm around her neck. Amelia used her phone to pay the driver and then waved him off as he backed out of the driveway.

They made it to the front door, Amelia setting her aunt down on the wooden stool that her aunt had out on the small porch, mostly just for decoration, until she got the door open and helped her inside. They made it to the couch, where Amelia made her aunt lie down, pulling off her shoes and adjusting the pillows so she could prop herself up slightly. She reached for the throw blanket and was about to tell her aunt to get some rest, but it was already too late. She was already breathing deeply and looked like she was about to snore at any moment. Amelia covered her with the blanket and smiled. Then she checked the room, made sure the remote was within reach, and pushed the coffee table a bit closer to the couch.

She walked into the kitchen, filling up a bottle with water to set on the table in case her aunt became thirsty. The sick woman spent most of her time on the couch, preferring it to her bed, so it was no surprise to Amelia that she had instantly fallen asleep the moment she lay down on it. She went back into the living room and placed the water bottle down before heading over to the little nook in the corner where an ancient computer her aunt had, along with a few office supplies, sat on an antique secretary desk. She grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled a note for her aunt to try to stay on the couch, resting, only use the bathroom, and that she would be back later with the prescription the doctor had given her. She left the note on the coffee table and leaned down to kiss her aunt on the forehead before rushing out the door and locking it behind her.

If she hurried, she could catch the next bus and save time and money instead of getting another Uber. She raced down the sidewalk to the bus stop a few blocks away. By the time she made it, she was out of breath, and the bus was just pulling in. She ran straight up the steps and held her travel pass up to the sensor, waiting for it to beep to confirm it had registered before she went to sit in the back. Luckily, it was not rush hour, so the bus was rather empty, with only a few passengers scattered across the seats. 

Amelia reached inside her bag for her phone and sent a quick message to Calvin to tell him she was on her way back to school, but froze when she saw the large manila envelope. Taking a deep breath, she pulled it from her bag and bent the metal clasp to open the flap, then pulled out the thick stack of paperwork. Most of it was just going over the diagnosis and all it would entail in order to treat her aunt’s kidney failure. According to the documents, she would have to have dialysis treatment at least three times a week. If she did not show signs of improvement, they might have to up it to five times or even daily.

The hospital was not that close to where they lived. Her aunt could always take the bus, but maybe it would be easier if Amelia looked into getting the car fixed. It had been sitting for a very long time already. It might only need minor repairs and a new battery, but Amelia had never bothered to do so since she decided to move near campus. Now it seemed like commuting would be more than just a once-a-day thing. She might have to go back and forth several times. She sighed, thinking about the sum of money she had saved getting lower by the minute, and she had yet to even get to the part of the paperwork she dreaded the most.

She flipped through the pages until she got to the last page in the back of the stack. Her stomach dropped, and for a moment feeling like she could not take another breath, her heart pounding in her chest.

“Five Hundred per treatment…” She said in a choked whisper.

Along with the nurse that the doctor insisted on, the number reached six digits. Tears came into her eyes as she saw her dreams of going to Stanford slipping right through her fingers. She felt selfish for that being her first concern when her Aunt would most likely die from this. Her aunt had raised her, and she owed her everything. If it had not been for her, she would have been stuck in the foster system, and who knows what her life would have been like?

She tucked the papers away back into the envelope and stuffed it back into her bag before turning to look out the window. The path she had laid out for herself was turning into a battlefield. Her goal was still in sight, but it seemed to be getting farther and farther away, and the road towards it more treacherous. However, she could not give up just yet.