A young child with a mysterious blood disease. A widening gyre that mobilizes people from Hilo to Japan into a support team. A most unusual subplot involving the stock market and country music. Stay tuned to this true story as told in real time in these pages—because even we don’t know where it’s headed.

Orchestrated and conducted by Mark Panek. To read previous chapters, click here.

Chapter 3 – An Unexpected Plane Ride

I was sitting in a room just after taking a blood test at Dr. DeSilva’s. There were bruises all over my body and down my legs. I had always had them for the last couple of years so to me it was normal. But I could tell in my Mom’s eyes that something was off.

The next day I saw my Mom with a stressed look on her face that is a very rare look. I almost never see it except when some patient she had worked her butt off for and had tried to keep alive died at the hospital. So I knew something was very very wrong. I just had no idea what it was.

I went over and sat down. I asked what was wrong. She said that it was nothing. I asked again and again till I got the answer.

The words I heard were shocking: “Your blood numbers are bad.”

I had never thought that they would be so bad that my Mom would be this stressed.

The next day early in the morning we went out to Honolulu to go get more blood work done. I had no idea why we had to go to Honolulu for something we had just done yesterday in Hilo. But we went to Kapi‘olani Hospital. While on the plane I was scared and curious. The whole time I felt weird, like I was going to a strange place to do a strange thing, but I just wasn’t sure what it was at the time. While in the plane I tried not to think about what was going to happen to me. I just stayed on my iPad and looked at the ocean with an occasional island. It was a very silent plane and nobody was talking. I was playing on my iPad when we finally landed and the plane hit the ground.

In the Kapi‘olani Hospital waiting room someone came in and told me they were going to take some of my blood. I was ready for it but then she pulled out a big needle. Way bigger than the one before. She was using ultrasound to look for my vein. Then she took the needle and she poked me in the skin and it hurt like hell.

But it was nothing compared to the next thing.

There was an I.V. drip going into me. That was weird. I was left alone with my Mom for 20 minutes. She told me everything that would happen to me that day. She told me that I was going to have a bone marrow biopsy. I asked her what that even meant and she told me that they would drill into my bone and take out marrow.

Drill into my bone.

“Will it hurt?”

“You’ll be put to sleep with some medicine.”

That made me feel better. 

The whole thing happened in a flash because I was asleep, but I can’t imagine how stressed my Mom was for me.

I woke up still very woozy and the first thing I said was: “I love you Mom.”

I was not aware of anything at the time. I had no idea what was happening and I forgot everything I said after that.

We went to the recovery room and had some food. Then we went on our way. We went to the mall and we had fun for a bit but then my whole body started to hurt. When we flew home, I was so tired.

The next day my Dad had a gig at the Naniloa, which is a hotel. This hotel gave one free room every time my Dad’s band played there and the room schedule was traded between band members. It was my Dad’s turn, so we decided to go early and enjoy the a/c. We bought food that I was allowed to eat and we just relaxed the whole day and were happy. This was a good day.

But then I was back in my house the next day and I asked my Mom what I had and she told me I could have leukemia or anemia. I asked my Mom if I was going to be fine.

She told me that I would be ok. 

Deep down I thought that I might die. 

But I knew also that I had to stay positive and not seem down, so I kept being happy on the outside.

To Be Continued

The Professor, the Pool Guy, and the Paniolo is a serial novel by Mark Panek, Kensuke Panek, David Gagne, and Shane Kalaniopio.

Image by Marcelo Leal.