The Call and Fall

The call came at 3:30am the call everyone fears the one that will come in the middle of the night and change your life. I heard an accent speaking on the answering machine and knew I needed to get to the phone. “Tekla, it’s your little boy.”

The doctors in Harare suspected Leukemia. It hit me a few minutes later that we were talking about the “C” word. The shock was overwhelming and the lack of information paralyzing.

I’m making calls and as the word gets out, the calls start coming in. I’ve got to get to London, where Patrick and Rafiki will be. I just needed a hug and to be told it was OK. Joe was the first to arrive and assured me not to worry about money. To be honest I hadn't even gotten to that part, but I am sure it wouldn’t have taken me long.

My biggest stress? The bedroom still wasn’t painted and Rafiki’s crib was filled with stuff. I knew I couldn’t leave the house in that shape. Molly and Mia were right there to help clean. Kevin finished the painting in no time. Jill Burge stepped in to help me find an affordable flight. And Joe, he returned to the fray from an errand, with a huge wad of cash.

Of course the entire time this is going on, I am hoping and praying that the doctors in Zimbabwe are just dumb asses.