As for me, time moved forward, but I couldn’t move on. Part of me died with Adrienne, leaving a void so vast that nothing will ever be able to fill it. For years, I tried to relieve my grief.

“Look, if you insist on mentioning our mother, you might as well not write the damn thing at all. My sister wouldn’t have wanted that. Don’t you get it? Our mother lost custody! She’s doesn’t deserve to be listed as a surviving relative; she’s not even invited to the funeral.”

Cancer adds to the story of my individual life; it adds to my unique character and sense of humor. John, in my eyes, has never seemed more like a father, and Sissy has never seemed untrapped and free from time and stress. I know that she’s stressed right now, I can see it hiding beneath her smile, but her soul and spirit have never seemed so bright to me before.

“We are taking Adrienne home. She wouldn’t want to be here. I understand the risks. You can’t talk me out of it, so don’t try. Now let’s do what needs to be done and get her home as soon as possible.”= Without flinching, Casey nods and says, “Okay.” Later, she tells me upon that first impression, her nickname for me was “Andrea Don’t-fuck-with-my-family Wilson.”

Adrienne pops up like a jack-in-the-box. Her shrieks are coherent despite the mask. Thrashing her thin arms in mid-air, she pushes doctors and nurses away as they grab her limbs. She spots John and me. “SISSSYYY! STOP. MAKE—STOP,” she yells. Oh my god! What have they done?

Adrienne is angry because her doctor is giving up on her. I remember Dr. Aquino’s email to Kirsten, which she forwarded to me. His last words were I’m sorry I can’t offer her much help. If I were Adrienne lying in that bed, listening to him, I would have said fuck off too. We are fighters and if Dr. Aquino wants to give up, we’ll find another ally.

You … don’t know my sister or our family. Well, let me tell you something. We don’t believe in numbers so there’s your prognosis. As far as doing her work, ask her teachers. She is more than capable. School is one of the few things that gives her pleasure now. It brings some normality back into her life. She wants to do the work she would be doing if she could attend school. She doesn’t want to be babied. Why are you punishing an honor student? You don’t have the funds? Tough shit. Find them! It’s the law.”

Adrienne’s career list 2000 – present: +Professor of religion +Zoologist +Forensic psychologist +Full-time artist—painter (gallery) or digital art +Webcam star +Fashion designer +Computer programmer +Studio musician

am asking for an immediate 504 Hearing (504 being the section of the Rehabilitation Act that covers educational programs). Schools must make reasonable (five hours is not reasonable) accommodations to ensure full, meaningful access to educational programs for eligible, handicapped persons. As a cancer patient, Adrienne is protected under the Rehabilitation Act. I expect this hearing to occur as soon as possible. Adrienne deserves the same education as her peers; she should not be punished for having cancer.

For half a second, my heart soars like a young bird finding its wings, taking its first flight, racing through the air. Then I look into his eyes, and my brain connects the words to the look on his face. My heart stops, forgetting to flap its wing, and falls to the ground, landing with a loud THUMP. There’s been a change. Those words were supposed to be good. I’ve waited so long for a change … I guess I wasn’t specific enough in my wish.