by Gigi Thomas
So, he left because he got a stomach ache? He must’ve eaten the bad oysters Charlotte called her to apologize about. Fortunately, Kenya only had one, so while she was a bit nauseated the next day, she was fine. Kenya realized that Caden had gone to the doctor that day too, presumably for the same reason. Really? Was it that serious? Hypochondriac much?
The name of the doctor looked familiar, and Kenya flipped back in the book, noticing that there were regular appointments with this doctor going back to the beginning of the journal, with little notes beside each one. Often it was just the initials NC.
Maybe it was his therapist Kenya thought. Caden had an appointment on the day of their old anniversary, when he showed up at her apartment drunk. The note said: 3 yrs. CF. What the hell does that mean?—Kenya wondered. This was getting her nowhere, and in her excitement she had forgotten that she had to pee. Now that she remembered, Kenya could barely hold it, and she had to sprint to Caden’s bathroom.
Kenya looked at her reflection as she washed her hands. Pressing her fingers against her forehead and then her eyes, she hoped the cold water would help relieve the pain. She had been reading Caden’s small writing trying to solve this mystery for so long, and all she was getting for her trouble was a headache. It was frustrating. Maybe, she could find something for the pain. Kenya opened up the medicine cabinet to grab some painkillers. She stood before the open door, stunned.
The shelves were crammed full with bottle after bottle of medications. Kenya had never seen so many drugs outside of a pharmacy before. These weren’t over-the-counter medications either, they were prescriptions. These were names she’d never heard before. This was a serious invasion of privacy, Kenya knew that. She shouldn’t do this.
She grabbed two empty bottles, headed back to the desk, and went to Caden’s desktop. Damn. She needed a password. Why didn’t she think of that? Kenya tried his birthday and a few things that she remembered Caden liked, rugby, his favorite football team, because by now she knew better than to call it soccer, but none of those worked. She tried Caydee’s name, but that didn’t work either. Of course, Caden hadn’t known about her for very long, so unless he recently changed his password, it made sense that it wasn’t Cadence or Caydee.
She paused before trying her next option. She was not so arrogant or delusional to think that she ranked highly enough in Caden’s mind to warrant her being his password. Even if she had once, Kenya knew she didn’t all these years later. Still, she had to eliminate it as an option, so she typed in her name. That was not it either. But she knew that. Screw this! She would find another way, Kenya thought, as she began to turn away. As if her name would be Caden’s password. She paused again and turned back around. There was one more thing she had to try. She typed in the letters nervously. Yaya.
The computer screen went blank, and the desktop icons began to load.
“Ha!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands.
Really? Yaya? Kenya was so stunned by the fact that Caden’s password was his pet name for her that she almost forgot why she logged on in the first place. Honestly she didn’t know what she was looking for or how to find it, but the dreadful feeling she had wouldn’t go away.
The easiest way to find what she was looking for was to do a general search, so it would pull up applications, files and documents. It took her a few tries with typing in the words “health” “sick” “doctor” “medicine,” but it didn’t really bring up any files that made sense. Kenya then went to Google and began to type in the name of the medication in her hand.
“Temozolomide,” the results read “is a chemotherapy drug also known as Tomodal...”
No, Kenya thought, confusedly staring at the screen. This must be some kind of mistake. She must’ve spelled it wrong. Kenya tried searching the other medication, typing slowly this time to ensure she made no mistakes with this one.
“Capecitabine is a chemotherapy drug. It is used to treat...”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. Her eyes were getting blurry with tears, and Kenya had to wipe them away before they fell. No, this was a mistake. It had to be. Maybe the medication was for someone else, but the name Caden Hargrove listed on the bottles did not allow for that fantasy. There had to be more to it. She opened up another drawer. And froze. Inside was a small blue velvet box. Kenya took it out and opened it, revealing an exquisite emerald and diamond ring with four teardrop shaped gems that resembled a four-leaf clover.
To Kenya, the precision of the stones locations made her think of the directions of a compass, with the large emerald as North and three, slightly smaller, diamonds as the other directions. Each gem looked as if it was at least one carat and as if they were free floating. There was also a row of smaller diamonds draping out on each side like swags and arching below the East and West facing diamonds. It reminded Kenya of Caydee holding her dress and trying to do a curtsy. The ring was obviously an antique, and Kenya had never seen anything so beautiful. She just held it in her hand, staring at it in wonder.
What the hell was she doing?—Kenya scolded herself. This is not what she came for. How is she going to get distracted by jewelry right now? What was wrong with her? As she moved to return the ring, she saw an envelope had been underneath it. In Caden’s hand was written, For Kenya. Her hands trembling, she removed it from the drawer and, knowing this was what she was looking for, opened the letter and began to read.
Dear Kenya,
There is so much I need to say to you that I don’t know where to begin. Just know this, I love you, and I always will. All I have ever wanted was your happiness. That’s why I am doing all of this. Because you deserve better than the life I could give you. If you are reading this letter, that must mean that I did not...
~
Caden awoke to the sound of machines. There was loud intermittent beeping, a steady clicking, a constant low humming or buzzing, and something that sounded as if it was repeatedly inhaling and exhaling. Slowly, he opened his eyes, looking around at the stark room, made more garish by the bright florescent lights.
“Whagh,” Caden tried to speak, but there was a tube in his mouth going down his throat. He began to panic, choking and fighting against it.
“Caden darling,” said a familiar voice. “Nurse! He’s awake. Somebody, quick!”
A soft hand tenderly stroked his face, and, somewhere in his mind, Caden realized it was his mother. He began to settle. Was he at home? No, he couldn’t be. Is mother here in Boston then?—he wondered. Why?
Suddenly, Caden was surrounded by a flock of white coats. He was being poked and prodded, his eyes were opened and they shined a light in them, they took his temperature, his pulse, his blood-pressure, and they checked the monitors beside him as they reviewed his chart. The tube was removed from his throat; though it was a while before he could speak.
“Where am I? What happened?” His voice was raw from the intubation. His left arm and left leg were both in casts, his chest hurt, and there was a bandage wrapped around his head.
“You were in an accident darling,” his mother said. “Do you remember?”
Caden remembered being nervous, frantic even. He had finally gotten the message from his sister stating that he should be able to pick up the package he asked her to send. It should be arriving in Boston today. He was excited, but he wished he did not have to cut it so close. He was rushing; Caden remembered that. He had left Kenya in bed with plans to meet for dinner that night.
It was the anniversary of when they first met. If all went according to plan, it would be a night they would never forget. He had made reservations at the nicest restaurant in the city, ordered her favorite flowers to be delivered to the table, and he’d spent weeks, and a fair amount of money, teaching the restaurant’s string quartet all Kenya’s favorite songs. They were supposed to start playing as soon as she entered the restaurant, and he provided a picture so they would recognize her.
He remembered picking up the package that Charlotte sent: his grandmother’s ring. She ha
d left to him to give to his wife one day. Caden never expected to part with it so early in life, but he knew Kenya was the one. What was the point of waiting if he already knew he wanted to be with her forever? They could have a long engagement, if that’s what Kenya wanted. Hopefully, not too long though.
“Kenya! I have to go. We have plans,” he said, abruptly sitting up. A sharp pain from his abdomen shot through him ricocheted throughout his body, throwing him back onto the bed. “Ahh! Bollocks! What is that? What? Kenya—”
“Try to remember what happened, Caden. You must answer these questions,” his mother insisted. Three doctors stood behind her, taking notes.
“Fine. I remember getting into my car to head back to the apartment, and I remember seeing a lorry. That’s it. Now, can someone tell me what’s going on?”
“Like I said, darling, you were in an accident. You’ve been unconscious for three days, and—”
“Three days! I have to go. Kenya’s probably worried sick. I have to—”
“Caden. We have more important things to worry about right now,” his mother insisted.
“What’s more important than this? I have to see her, mum! She has no idea where I am or what happened, she probably—”
“Will you listen!”
Caden fell silent. His mother hardly ever yelled. Her burn was cold, like dry ice, while his father was the one who often flared up in an uncontrollable rage. More than that, it was his mother’s expression that quelled him. Lady Mildred dropped her head, her balled fists, one encircling the other, pressed to her mouth. Caden knew that look. It was what she did when she was trying not to cry.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Did something happen to Kenya, Caden worried. Is that why his mother refused to answer his questions about her? Was there more that he couldn’t remember? Did they meet up after all? He was waiting for his mother’s response, but one of the doctors rested his hand on Lady Mildred’s shoulder and stepped forward instead. He was an older gentleman, with chestnut skin and kind eyes that had a way of putting people at ease. His hair was almost white enough to match his lab coat, but there was barely a wrinkle on his face.
“Mr. Hargrove, Caden, I am Doctor Bell. In addition to the broken limbs you sustained in the accident, you had two cracked ribs, a punctured lung, and a ruptured spleen. Because, of the extent of your injuries, we had to check for internal bleeding as well. What we saw was a bit concerning, so we did a biopsy from the gastrointestinal area.”
“A...a biopsy? What do you mean? What for?”
“During surgery, we found a tumor in your small intestine. After the biopsy, we determined that it was malignant.”
“Wait. Malignant?” Caden paused. “Isn’t...isn’t that the bad one?”
Doctor Bell sighed. “There really is no other way to say this, Caden, I am afraid. You have cancer. It is stage three GI Carcinoid Tumor, in your small intestine. The duodenum to be exact.”
“What? No. That’s impossible. I feel fine.”
“Unfortunately, that is common with this type of cancer,” the doctor explained. “Often the symptoms are mild if they present at all. Symptoms may not become severe until it is too late. Have you had any gastrointestinal discomfort? It may feel like abdominal pain, bloating, or nausea perhaps.”
“A...a little. I guess,” Caden began. “But, it was nothing out of the ordinary.”
“Well, then you see why these Carcinoid tumors can be particularly difficult in diagnosing and catching early. In the majority of cases, the symptoms are not distinct enough to cause alarm to the patient or even the doctor, and the tumors often go unnoticed. Because you were in the accident, we were able to discover it, well by accident. This is common as well. These tumors are often found incidentally, when looking for something else, as was the case with you.
“Your mother gave us permission to operate, when you were unconscious. We were just waiting another day for you to be more stable before we proceeded. Now that you are awake, however, we must ask for your consent.”
“Am I...is this for real, right now? Cancer? How can I...how can I have cancer? I feel fine!” he insisted.
Caden thought the feeling in his stomach was butterflies, the pain caused by nerves. After all, considering his situation, being nervous was natural. The pain was more of a nuisance. It was nothing serious. He’d gotten hurt playing rugby many more times that caused much more pain than this, and he could always walk that off. How could an upset stomach be a matter of life and death?
“I can’t...I can’t have cancer,” Caden asserted. “I’m about to propose to my girlfriend.”
“I’m sorry Mr. Hargrove, I know it is a lot to take in right now, but think of it this way. That truck might have killed you, but it didn’t. If all goes well, that accident may have very well saved your life. Now, down to brass tacks.”
“Okay...what does this mean? Wha...what...what happens now?”
“Well, now we operate to remove the tumor from the duodenum and remove any other affected tissue, lymph nodes, etc., and reconstruct the area. After that, you will start a round of both chemotherapy and radiation to treat the cancer. Then we hope it doesn’t metastasize,” Doctor Bell paused, as if deciding if he should continue. “I must add though, due to the location of your tumor there are particular risks involved.”
“You mean it gets better?” Caden spat. “What risks?”
“Keep in mind, it is not definite. However, while everything is done to protect you, directing the radiation to your lower abdomen where your cancer has formed can result in infertility for some men. That is not to say that you will be one of them or even that it will be permanent if you are. It is, however, a significant enough possibility that you need to be aware of it.”
“Right.” Dumbfounded, Caden lay back in bed and closed his eyes, the doctor’s words swimming in his head.
This wasn’t possible. How could his whole life change in an instant? One minute he was thinking about his wedding and the next day, his funeral. And no kids. What if he couldn’t have children after all? He knew Kenya wanted a big family. She grew up as an only child, and she always said how lonely it was and how she wanted her children to have siblings.
There was also the fact that he had no idea if the treatment would work. Was he supposed to propose to Kenya knowing he might soon make her a widow? He might not even make it to the wedding. Even if he did, what kind of marriage would he be giving her? Till death do us part. It sounds more like cruelty than commitment when one of you is about to die, doesn’t it?
He thought about his father’s cirrhosis, all the time his mother spent worrying and caring for him: a man who left nothing but misery in his wake. After being denied, due to his excessive drinking, he bought and bullied his way into a transplant then wasted his second chance with his continued drinking. It took less than a year for his body to reject his new liver, leaving him bedridden for the last six months of his life. Caden began to wonder if him getting sick wasn't just the old "sins if the father" adage playing itself out. Was he doomed to repeat his father's fate? Would he force Kenya to repeat his mother's fate of caring for a selfish invalid?
Since the doctor gave him the news, Caden had spent all of his time doing research. He researched his odds, survival rates, fertility rates, what those treatments actually entailed. It was sad. The people looked sad. Chemotherapy was like trying to kill the cancer before you killed the person. He saw what people on chemo looked like, thin, sallow. Weak. How could he let her go through that? How could he let Kenya see him like that?
Caden looked down at his barrel chest and brawny arms wondering how different he would look when this was all over. Of course, that is if he survived. He stared at the ring in his hand. He’d held onto it ever since they had returned the personal items he had in his possession during the accident. This was supposed to be Kenya’s ring. It was supposed to represent their love, their life together. What would it be if he gave that to her now? A noose? She would spend
most of her time caring for him and the rest of it worrying about him. It would be the proverbial ball and chain that would make Kenya bound to him in the worst way. She’d be a prisoner. He’d be even worse than his father, because he would know that he’d be giving her an unhappy marriage from the beginning.
Caden wouldn’t do that to Kenya. He couldn’t propose to her. Not now. Of course, Caden realized, even if he didn’t propose, they would still be in a relationship. As soon as Kenya learned he was sick, she would want to be there for him. Would she give up her plans, her future in order to take care of him? He couldn’t have that. As tough as Kenya pretended to be, she had the softest heart of anyone he knew.
Caden made his decision. He wouldn’t tell her anything. He’d just leave. He knew he couldn’t say goodbye, because he wouldn’t be able to lie to her. One look at Kenya and he’d want to tell her everything. Hell, one look at him and she’d know he was lying anyway. One of the things he loved about her was her ability to so easily see right through him; that and how she had a way of calling his bullshit. She’d know something was wrong as soon as she saw him, and Caden feared he might be selfish enough to want her comfort. He wouldn’t say goodbye then. He’d prefer Kenya hate him for a few months and be able to move on, rather than to have her stay with him out of pity or obligation.
Even if Kenya married him out of love in the beginning, wouldn’t she just regret it and resent him in the end? When he died, then he would’ve had promised her everything and not delivered on anything. Even if he didn’t die, all it would do is trap Kenya in an endless cycle of doctors and treatments. Worse, he’d trap her with the horrible emotional blackmail he saw his mother suffer through.
Leaving was best thing he could do for Kenya. He would let her go, Caden decided, so she could be happy. He would rather Kenya be happy without him than to watch her be miserable because she was with him. Caden sat with a pen in hand and began to write.
