Elvis and the Underdogs Read Online Free Page B

almost got down on my knees. I was that desperate.
    â€œThere are specially trained therapy dogs that could—”
    Before Dr. Helen could even finish her thought, my mom cut her off. “Absolutely not. Benji is allergic to dogs, and I have white carpet in the living room.”
    â€œMom, please. Let Dr. Helen finish.”
    Dr. Helen told us therapy dogs are used for people with epilepsy or other brain disorders. The dogs know when an episode is about to come on, and they know exactly how to get the person to safety, and to also call for help. She said the dogs are expensive, but she was pretty sure she could make a few calls and help us find one if we were interested.
    â€œOh, we’re interested. Definitely interested. Call right now. Mom, let Dr. Helen use your phone,” I said.
    â€œBenji, it’s out of the question. You’re allergic to dogs, and I doubt we could afford one.”
    â€œYou’ll never ever have to give me an allowance for the rest of my life. I won’t go to college. You can use that money for the dog. And I’ll get allergy shots. I don’t mind. They have those, right, Dr. Helen?”
    â€œYou hate shots, Benji. No.”
    â€œI’ll learn to love them, Mom. Please, Mom? Pretty please?”
    â€œI’m sorry, Benji. No.”
    â€œMom, if you don’t let me do this, you’ll ruin my entire life. Show a little mercy. Please.”
    â€œIt’s true that Benji is allergic to dogs, but there are great allergy shots that he could take, and I’m sure he could then tolerate having a dog around,” Dr. Helen said.
    â€œSee, Mom, I was right. Please, please, please.”
    â€œSo those are our only two options? The world’s ugliest helmet or a dog? What if we just bubble-wrapped him?” my dad said.
    Normally I’d laugh at this, because the idea of my mom and dad bubble-wrapping me every morning was pretty funny, but I didn’t even crack a smile.
    â€œDad, stop joking around. This is serious. Like life-and-death serious, and by life-and-death serious, I’m talking about my life and my death.”
    Dr. Helen told me I should at least try the helmet on, because perhaps it wasn’t as bad as it looked. I was about to say no, but I knew that being difficult was no way to get my parents to stay agreeable. The plan was to make them understand how horrible it was, and then they’d do the right thing. After Dr. Helen strapped the helmet on to my head, I could tell right away by the expression on all their faces that it was not only as bad as I thought it was, it was actually worse.
    â€œMom, hand me a mirror, please.” She reluctantly handed over a tiny mirror, and let’s just say, even though it was a teeny tiny mirror, I could still see that me wearing the helmet was pretty much the worst thing ever.
    Remember how I said I tend to faint a lot? Well, it usually starts with me feeling warm, and then the room spins, and then whammo, I crumple to the floor, but I always wake up, like, a second or two later good as new. The reason I’m telling you this now is because as I stared at my horrific reflection in the mirror, I started to get warm, the room began to spin, and before I could sit down again, I fainted.
    I guess my mom caught me, because when I opened my eyes two seconds later, I was in my mom’s arms and I was sitting on her lap. I looked up at her and without missing a beat said, “Mom, I will not wear this helmet.” I struggled to get out of her lap as I realized it’s hard to make serious demands while sitting in my mom’s lap like a little kid. “So either I get a therapy dog or we’re going to have to roll the dice with whatever might happen if I have another episode. I mean, there’s a chance I’ll never have another one, right, Dr. Helen? Maybe it was just a fluke?”
    Dr. Helen admitted that sometimes children do have a seizure and it never happens