Chapter Two
After getting home, I went straight to bed. My mother kept eyeing me the whole way home and I didn't feel like being stared at for the rest of the day. I know she can't help it and feels the need to constantly make sure I am okay, but honestly, I need a break. I have cancer. Of course, I am not okay. Plus, I am exhausted. It doesn't take long for me to pass out after I rest my head on my pillow.
"Honey!" I hear my mom shouting from downstairs. "Paul!" I roll over and see that it is now six o'clock. Damn, I slept long.
"Yeah," I shout as I pull myself out of bed.
"Are you hungry? I made some chicken parm."
"Yeah. I'll be right down." This should be fun. My mom is going to watch every single
bite of food I take. Well, at least it is my favorite.
As I pull my sweatshirt over my head, I remember what Jay said to me before I left the
hospital. I wonder if he says that to all of his patients. I guess it doesn't matter; he didn't have to say it to me. He must know he is the hottest thing to happen to that place. It's probably his M.O. to get all of his patients to be easy for him. I'm so stupid. He was clearly playing on the fact that I had some schoolboy crush on him. Yeah, I'm with you all right, you douchebag. Let's see if I get in that wheelchair again.
I stop thinking about it before I get even angrier about it. I'm starving, so I make my way downstairs. I hear my mom talking to someone. Crap. Who did she call over? As I walk into the kitchen, I see my aunt whispering quietly with her. Great.
"You guys can just talk normal. I know you are talking about me." I announce my presence. Damn it, I'm cranky.
"Paul!" my aunt squeals and comes running to hug me. I let her kiss my cheek and tell me that she loves me and all that other bullshit everyone says when they find out someone they love has cancer. Normally, I would be happy she is here. My mom needs someone to talk to. I just don't have the energy to do this tonight.
"How did you sleep honey?" my mom asks, as she walks over, sensing my annoyance.
"Good," I reply, trying to keep the anger from my voice. I'm really not mad at her. I'm just mad in general.
"Good, let's eat then. I am starving."
"As am I," my Aunt Maggie agrees.
"What's new with you Aunt Maggie?" I ask, putting the wall down. She is only worried
about me. She can't help that the first thing you do is reassure the dying one that they are loved.
"Nothing special with me. All is the same as ever. Work and constantly taking care of the child I call my husband," she answers me.
"That's good then."
"How about you?" I can see the color flush from her face the second she asks it. "Oh, Paul, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to come out."
"Aunt Maggie, don't worry about it. Besides the obvious, nothing is new with me." My mom pushes us all to sit down and eat.
"Honey, what do you want to drink?" she asks. I look over at her wine glass, which she takes notice. Without saying anything, she walks over to the kitchen counter, grabs a wine glass, and pours the wine. She places it in front of me and smiles. Oh, the joy of cancer. I take a sip of it. It's gross, but I don't say anything. This will make my mom feel like she is helping me cope. I take my first bite and I can see her eying me.
"It's good, Mom"
"Amazing, Molly!" my aunt shouts after her first bite. This is all that she needs to take her attention away from me. My aunt will definitely keep her preoccupied. Thank god she came. I continue to eat my food as my mom and aunt catch up on some serious gossip. I guess we are taking the "ignorance is bliss" approach to the news of my cancer. I love this approach. I
start to tone them out as I begin to really think about what is going on. I have cancer. There are tiny cells killing everything inside of me right now. This is the fifth time and I still feel dirty with them inside of me. No amount of showering and brushing my teeth is going to make me feel better about that. I wonder if Jay has a way around that. It is moments like this that I need a best friend. I cannot talk about the douchebag with my mother, so now I am forced to discuss it with my subconscious. Life would be so much easier if I did not have cancer. Then, I would not have been accosted by that jerk.
"Honey?" my mom is waving her hand in front of me. I must have really been lost there. "Yes."
"You okay?"
"Oh, yeah."
"Did you hear what your aunt and I were asking you?" Shit.
"No, sorry, I was in another world," I admit, blushing.
"That's fine. Maggie and Jim are gonna come live her for a little bit, while we get
everything situated."
"Oh," I look over at my aunt, "That's cool. Mom could probably use some help." I just
keep looking at them, nodding my head at everything they say. She thinks I'm going to die too. She doesn't want to be alone when it happens. You know you're screwed when your mom gives up hope. This is a good thing, though. Right?
"I think that's great," I say, once they finish.
"Okay, good. Jim is going to get everything that we will need over here and we will take the spare room down here," my aunt explains.
"What about work, though? Won't you guys lose your jobs?" I ask, knowing they live three hours away.
"Well, Jim can work from home and I am going to take a couple weeks off and go from there."
"Aunt Maggie, you can't stop your life because of me. I don't want this all to happen. Mom, please don't let all of this happen," I plead.
"Honey, they are coming for me, not you. I am going to need more help this time. I won't be able to get work off as much as last time, and Maggie wants to help."
"Paul, don't worry about us. We are your family. This is what we are all supposed to do," my aunt is trying to reassure me.
"No one would need to do all of this if we do the smart thing," I start. "Mom, I don't think we should fight it this time. Even if it does work--"
"DON'T YOU DARE!" she screams. Crap.
"You are fighting this. AND you are beating this." She flies from her seat and leaves the room. My aunt looks over at me with tears in her eyes.
"Paul, you cant be serious," she says, pleading for me to say something different.
"I just don't see the point anymore. I don't want to fight this anymore."
"THAT IS ENOUGH!" she screams even louder, as she comes back into the room. "I WILL
NOT HAVE YOU TALKING THIS NONSENSE ANY MORE!"
I nod my head and my aunt says, "Molly--"
"No," she says, pursing her lips. Aunt Maggie looks back down. Even she knows not to
mess with the pursed lips. She walks out of the room again and Aunt Maggie follows her out. I sit quietly for another minute. I don't have a choice and now she is pissed at me. I'm going to die. She knows it, so why can't she just accept it? I clear my plate and go back upstairs. I'm not in the mood to repeat that again.
The next morning, the house is eerily quiet. Every now and then, I can hear my mom and aunt talking. Other than that, everything else is silent. My mom is like a recluse today, which I hate but love at the same time. I want to be one, too, but I know that means she is depressed. Everything is a crapshoot these days. Why can't everything be simple?
At ten, I decide to stop hiding out in my room. My aunt is in the living room, watching TV. I go in there and sit down with her. She looks over at me, but doesn't say anything. Instead, we both just keep looking at the TV. The Golden Girls are on, which is a guilty pleasure of mine. My aunt knows this, so she raises the volume for me. We both sit there, holding onto the quiet
bliss we still have. We should probably be discussing what's next, but we just sit here and enjoy the show. This is why I love my aunt. She understands that I just want to be left alone.
After about an hour of this, the phone rings. I stiffen immediately. It is probably Dr. Copeland with the results. I get up quickly and head to the phone, but my mom is already there. She answers it and keeps her eye on me.
"Hello, Dr. Copeland," she says into the phone. I watch her face trying to get a hint of what he is saying. She doesn't move a muscle on her face. "We can be there in an hour. Okay. See you then."
"What did he say?" I ask. My aunt joins us now.
"He wants us to go in, so we can talk about what's next."
"He didn't say anything about the bone marrow test?"
"Just that we need to discuss it in person. Go get ready. Maggie, are you coming?" "Of course," she answers her, as I make my way upstairs. I know this means it is stage
four and so does she. I saw the look on her face. She knows I'm going to die.
When we pull up to the hospital, my aunt drops us off at the entrance before she goes to park the car. I don't know why everyone thinks I can't walk. I haven't had chemo or radiation yet. It is so annoying. My mom leads the way to the nurse's station again. The same receptionist as yesterday greets us, but this time she doesn't ask for anything. Instead, she pages Dr. Copeland right away. Maybe I'll get a VIP room this time. I seem to keep getting special attention, first Jay with his "we can beat this" spiel and now personal pages for the head doctor of oncology. The receptionist tells us to go to the waiting room again. My aunt meets us there and sits down in silence. None of us have spoken since the phone call. This sucks.
"Paul?" I hear a familiar voice calling me. I look over to the nurse's station and it is Jay. Great. Shouldn't he be off on Sunday?
"Yes?" I ask, as I get up.
"We're ready for you," he smiles and then nods at my mom and aunt. We all get up and follow him to the same exam room as yesterday. Dr. Copeland is already in there, looking over
my chart. This is too weird. Doctors are supposed to keep us waiting in here, not the other way around. He looks up, once the door shuts behind us.
"Ah, Paul. Please sit here," he directs me to the bed. "Molly, and...?" "Oh," my mom quickly says, "this is my sister, Maggie."
"Nice to meet you Maggie," he says, shaking her hand.
"Likewise," Aunt Maggie responds.
"Well you two sit in those chairs. We have a lot to discuss today." He turns to face me and says, "Paul, how are you doing today?"
"Fine," I respond. Jay is standing by the counter just watching. He catches my eye and gives me a reassuring smile. Even though I don't want to, I can't help but return it. His smile is not something to be reckoned with.
"Alright, then. Well I had them put a rush on your bone marrow test yesterday. I know we need to move fast here. Good news is that it didn't spread as far as I thought it had. Unfortunately, though, it is in your bone marrow. Again, it seems to be contained to your abdomen region. So, I'm going to say we are at stage three right now."
My mother makes a sigh of audible relief, trying to stifle her tears back. So I'm not at stage four. People still die at stage three.
"It is time we discuss where to go from here. You have three tumors. All of them are latched onto your stomach, with one of them starting to grow onto your abdominal wall. I know we chose to use chemo and radiation last time to minimize them before going in, but I think we need to cut them out before starting that. The one growing onto your abdominal wall scares me a bit, to be honest.
"When can we get him in?" my mom asks immediately. I look from her to Dr. Copeland and to Jay. He is eyeing me suspiciously. Can't he leave?
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. It is a complicated procedure. It is in a very awkward position, so it will be difficult to get in there and the risks are pretty significant. It is possible for him to die if we go in there right away. But it is more likely if we don't."
"So, we need to do the surgery?" she asks again, though more of a demand.
"Well, that is what I recommend," he answers. Looking at me, he says, "What do you want to do?"
Me? I feel my mom looking at my scared out of her mind. She knows I want to say nothing. She knows I'm ready to quit. I look over at Jay, who gives me another smile. "Let's cut it out," I say. His smile is lethal.
"Are you sure?" Dr. Copeland asks.
"No, but I'm never sure. When can we do it?"
"I can get you in on Tuesday. Though, you will have to be admitted tomorrow, so we can
go through all of the pre-ops and get you started on some medicine before I can go in there." "How long will I be here afterwards?"
"Well, it depends on how the surgery goes. Paul, I think you will be here for a little
while. We are going to need to start the chemo right after. Before you even heal, we are going to need start fighting. It came on very strong this time. Just six months ago, you were completely cancer free. You need to be prepared for this. We are going at this more aggressively this time. We will need to do higher dosages and more treatments."
My mom is really crying this time. Luckily my aunt is here to hold her through this. I keep glancing over at Jay as Dr. Copeland continues his explanation of what to come. Honestly, I can't listen to this anymore. I don't want to know what is coming. I know I wouldn't do it then. And that is not an option. Jay is really staring at me now. He can tell I'm not paying attention. I know I was mad at him last time, but his eyes are calming to me. I think he knows I don't want to do this.
"Paul?" Crap.
"Yes?"
"Do you understand it all?" Dr. Copeland asks, knowing I didn't hear a word he just said. I look over at my mom and say, "Do whatever it takes." With that, he gets up and leaves
the room. Once again, my mom follows him to bombard him with questions. My aunt follows him out, too. Now, I am alone with Jay. I look over at him and he starts to walk over to me. He stops once he is face to face with me.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks me. Of course he knows I don't want to.
"Yes," I respond, not looking him in the eye.
"Look at me." I look up and see his warm eyes. He knows I can't resist them. Why is he so intoxicating?
"If you don't want this, you have the choice to. You do know that, right?"
"Yes."
"Okay, then. Well, I am the head nurse on your case, so you are stuck with me. I hope
that is okay."
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"Well, you will not be allowed to walk anywhere. Only wheelchairs for you." He is now smiling at me. I know he is kidding, but I can play too.
"I can be very persuasive if I need to be. So you better be ready for the fight of your life." He laughs hard this time, which is just as infectious as his smile, so I start to laugh too.
"We are going to have fun, aren't we?"
"Are you having poison pumped into your system, days after complicated surgery?" I know that was cold, but I don't care anymore. He looks away from me, and I instantly feel bad.
"I'm sorry. I'm still pissed about all of this. I keep taking it out on you and it isn't fair. I'm not good at the whole emotions thing."
He looks up and meets my eyes, "Paul, you never have to apologize to me. I can handle whatever you need to throw my way to get through this. That's what I'm here for."
I smile at him, hearing his catchphrase. He smiles back and pats me on the shoulder. Without another word, he turns around and walks out. There is something about him that keeps making me angry and happy all at the same time. One second, I want to smack him in the face; and the next, I want to be wrapped in his arms. This is not good. Fuck the cancer. How am I going to survive my crush for my nurse for the next month? I hope it is only a month. I cannot be trapped her longer than that. Last time, I almost killed someone. I am already starting to feel trapped in this place.