by Lexi Ostrow
“I’m sorry, had we known you knew someone, we could have arranged for you to sit near him.”
Her heart sank a little at the notion that she had found familiarity, only to lose it. But if he’s here, it means his doctor’s found something to help him. The thought made her smile as she followed Greg to the end bed.
The bed was narrow, bars on either side—a typical hospital bed with a reclining chair next to it. Unassuming white sheets with a fuzzy purple blanket at the end were just a few steps away when she noticed the glint of metal. The IV pole held more bags than she had realized.
“Greg? What’s in each bag?”
“Have a seat and relax.” He pointed to a bag and then another. “These two are the treatment itself. This one,” he tapped a slightly cream-colored bag, “is a steroid treatment to help with some of the nausea you’ll feel. That last one is fluids. We just want to keep everything moving smoothly.”
Nervously, she almost tripped over his foot as she moved to sit on the bed. Composing herself, she was shocked to find the bed oddly comfortable. Her weight caused it to squish, like her memory foam bed. A sense of home is nice.
“The blanket is here because you will get cold. That’s a combination of the liquid itself and what happens to the body while it is taking it in. Please don’t feel embarrassed to ask for another. Warm is important.” Greg turned away and had a wet cotton swab in his hand. “Treatment is going to be fairly boring while you’re actually here and hooked in. Righty?”
“Yes.”
Greg lifted her left arm. The cold swab rode over her inner elbow before she realized he was prepping her. She didn’t mind needles, but her stomach rolled when she saw it because it meant they were starting.
“You’ll feel a small prick.”
The needle was in before Greg had finished his polite, but unnecessary, warning. “This really is the simple part. You’ll be here for three hours. I hope you brought something to keep yourself entertained?”
She patted her bag as he laid a strip of tape over the needle. “I have a book.”
“And if not, she’s got me as a chemo mate.” A friendly older voice came from her right. “Welcome to the club, sorry it’s not a better one to belong to. I’m Tammy—this is my sixth go round. I’m a pro and a real good conversationalist.”
Cassandra couldn’t help but chuckle when Greg stepped away, and she saw an older woman with a salt and pepper curly wig and a kind smile. “Cassandra. My first time.”
“Well, you stick with me kid. I might not be so good at keeping it away, but I’m a champ at kicking it the damned curb.”
“Alright then, I’ll leave you ladies to it. Cassandra, there is a button right there,” he gestured to the side of the bed. “If you need anything, you press it. The bed remote is attached to the pole under the bed.” He set it in her lap. “Get comfortable.”
“Thank you.” She leaned back into the bed and pushed the top of the button, pleased at the smooth way it lifted her body into a reclining position. There was a strange sensation, like ants marching inside her arm, and she looked to the tube at the end of the needle and realized the IV was on.
“What brought you here, little one?” Tammy set down her knitting needles and green yarn.
“Breast Cancer.”
The other woman nodded, a knowing shadow in her eyes. “Mine started there, made a nice little road trip into my throat though.”
A startled cry escaped, and her hands flew over her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s all right. You’ll learn real soon, we can’t be too soft skinned, or the pity will kill us.”
They spoke, talking mostly about their lives before cancer, when a strike of queasiness slammed into her and sent her heaving over the side of the bed, thankfully into a bedpan. Mortification brought tears to her eyes because she knew in a crowded room, everyone saw.
“It’s all right, little lady. The puking happens. Comes on real damn fast too. Not much we can do about it, but never let it make you feel ashamed. We’re putting our bodies through radiation—the shit most people say don’t go near. There’s bound to be some ill effects.”
The words meant more to her than she knew how to express, so she smiled. “I’ll try my best to remember that.”
“Good. Now, I’m feeling a bit tired, these treatments do take their toll. If you don’t mind, I’ll tell you to cover up with that blanket, and then I’m going to finish my treatment with a nap.”
Leaning down Cassandra grabbed the thick blanket and draped it over her waist. She wasn’t cold yet. Her eyes caught sight of the clock across the room. Nearly an hour down.
The time lapse would have been reassuring if not for the strike of bile that crept into her mouth.
“You can do this, just push past it and it’ll be over soon.”
Swallowing back the disgusting bitter liquid she looked around the room. Most were focused on a hobby, but a few spoke at the other end. Samuel was awake, but his eyes were glued to a tablet screen, and gray headphones blocked him from hearing her.
Two hours to go. Again, she gagged and without thinking twice, hit the button to find out what more could be done with the steroids. Everything had seemed perfectly easy until that moment. Her body was reminding her what she was putting it through. Cassandra could only remain optimistic that it wouldn’t get any worse or she’d rip the damn IV out and leave.
She noticed visitors had joined two people. The idea of someone seeing her like this, even Diana who had just witnessed her breakdown, was uncomfortable.
My God. Gabe had wanted to come see this. He was growing on her, and she was even convinced she wasn’t some little project for him to take on so he could act like a hero. But coming to this? Hell no. Never.
Just thinking about him intrigued her curiosity. How does a handsome man spend his afternoon? Likely behind a pile of work. Smirking, she knew they shared a work ethic, she could see it in the way he spoke about what he did. Maybe texting with him for a bit could help both of us. Grabbing her phone from her pocket, she hoped he was free.
Fifteen
Changes swirled about inside of her. It was strange to think that her body had just undergone an intensive round of medical treatment since all she’d done was sit still, but impossible to ignore. Queasiness continued to swirl in her stomach, despite the steroids dispensed to supposedly make it stop. A slight tremor also vibrated in her legs and arms; she couldn’t see it when she looked down, but it was there. Like tiny vibrations moving throughout her body. Tears lined her eyes. Not from sadness, but discomfort. Cassandra had never had to sit still with a needle in her arm for three hours before. Never mind the paralyzing way fear locked up her muscles until they ached.
“How are you feeling?” Lucy, the nurse, checked back in with her for the second time in the last few hours.
“Drained and uncomfortable.” She didn’t want to complain about the nausea, it didn’t seem important since they’d already tried to help it.
A smile curved the woman’s mouth. “Well, I have some good news.” She leaned down and gently put her hand over the IV, tugging out the end attached to the bags. “You’ve completed your first round of chemo.”
The words echoed in Cassandra’s mind, but she couldn’t hold on to them. Couldn’t grasp them in her hands and suddenly make them mean something to her.
“Did I do well?”
That earned her a chuckle. “You did wonderfully. Many people don’t do well sitting still. I overheard you talking and reading.” As she spoke, her hands busied with unhooking the IV and folding the tubing as she spoke. “If you can maintain a calm like the one you had today, you’ll do fine. Mind over matter is important in things like this. Don’t forget that.” “Is there anything else?” Cassandra felt a fog drift over mind, erasing anything thoughts as the numbness took over. Even though she knew the IV was missing, she didn’t feel as if the weight of the bag was gone. She should be overjoyed to be getting on with the treatment, but the sloshi
ng liquid in her stomach made her wish she would just hurry up and get sick already.
“You’re free to go. I know it was already mentioned, but do not be alarmed when you see changes. Focus on the positive, and remember, chemo isn’t forever. It’s just one piece of getting your life back.”
Yes, getting it back. Three more sessions. Three more times, and then maybe it’ll be gone. Cassandra pushed off the reclining chair, and the room spun like the Tilt-a-Wheel at carnivals, dropping her back into the seat.
“Please take a moment if you’re dizzy.”
Swallowing, she ignored the putrid taste of bile rising in her throat. “No, I’ll be fine. I’m going to be stronger than this. I’ll be all right.” The second time, she said for herself.
Jaw clenched, Cassandra pushed upright again, squeezing her muscles to keep from tipping over. Even though it hurt like hell.
“I can help guide if you like.” Concern tinged Lucy’s voice.
“I think I’d like that.” The gentlest touch under her arm signaled the nurse was helping and prompting her to walk again.
Lucy’s touch on her arm was light, just enough to help to steady Cassandra. Each step took her closer and closer to the ground. Her legs wobbled as the room spun. Every breath became a giant stone on her chest. She needed to stop moving.
Thankfully, the door stood a step away. Forcing herself to take one more step, Cassandra ignored her body’s protesting screams until she reached the door. Her right shoulder crashed into the frame, and she let her forehead drop onto it as well. Standing still was better, but it didn’t fix everything.
“Miss Marks? Are you certain you don’t want help past the door too? I can walk you all the way out.”
Tears slipped down her face, and she closed her eyes. She didn’t want to admit she needed the help—didn’t want to be weak enough to have to rely on other people.
And if you don’t? What? You’ll stand here and hope they don’t notice or you’ll keep walking and crash to the plush carpet floor in the waiting room? Her inner voice sounded angry and annoyed by her stubbornness.
“Yes, please.” More tears fell.
Before, she had been independent in every element of her life. Weakness was merely the first way cancer would try to tear her down. She could either wallow in self-pity or accept it and move on.
The nurse put her hand on Cassandra’s elbow but did not try to move her head. “Hold on one second, I’m going to open the door.”
Her head fell away from the door she had been contently resting it on, and sweeping rush of queasiness rolled through her before she got her head lifted.
“You’re not alone, right?”
“No.” Cassandra swallowed back the urge to vomit and looked at her boss. “Diana?”
Her boss’ head lifted, shock and then concern flashed on her face. “Here, let me help.” Diana crossed the space and switched with Lucy before Cassandra even felt a shift in the grip on her elbow.
“Just take it easy. We can wait here as long as you need.” Diana’s whispered words were soothing as she guided Cassandra down to a chair. Her grip slowly loosened, but she didn’t step completely away. “What you just did, that takes incredible strength. More so than traveling to foreign countries on your own, trying to better the lives of others. Don’t let needing help slow you down.”
Cassandra smiled. Diana had said exactly what she needed to hear to help her feel better. Cliché as it might be, being reminded how difficult her life was and how scary cancer was made her feel just a little less like a wimp.
“Thank you again, for being here.” Leaning her head back, she didn’t even care when it gently bonked into the top of the chair. “Why did I think I could do this alone?”
Diana gave a snort. “You live your life on your own. It makes perfect sense to want this to be the same.”
“Well, mark that down as foolish, insane and downright moronic.” Somehow, amusing herself took her mind off the way her body continued to tremble. “Can we stay here just for a few minutes?”
“I pushed all my meetings back. I am yours for the day. You need an hour, take an hour.”
Diana had been a lot of things for Cassandra in the past five years, a mother figure had never been of them. Yet, now, when she needed one the most, the woman had stepped effortlessly into the role.
“I don’t know if anyone at work has ever told you this, but you’re pretty much made for this job. You have wonderful mothering skills.”
Diana grinned and sat in the chair next to Cassandra. “If you’ll just write that down for my kids, that would be fantastic.”
“I mean it.” She did her best to pull into an upright position. “I can’t imagine many bosses would want to touch the subject of cancer, and here you are in the trenches with me.”
“I’m not as scary as I seem when my funding is threatened—which we both know is damn near daily. I got into this line of work because I wanted to see every child get their happily ever after. For every kiddo to be tucked in at night until they’re old enough to want to throw a shoe at their parent for daring to even be in public with them.” She smirked. “Somewhere along the way, I got stuck behind a desk, but I made it work. Just like you’re going to make this work. Six months from now, you’ll be on your way to Russia or even back to Uganda, leaving this as nothing more than a nasty memory.”
There weren’t words for how desperately Cassandra wanted, no needed, the sentiment to be true. She had so much more she wanted to do, and if she were honest, so much more life she wanted to experience.
The door to the office swung open, and an elderly couple shuffled in. Both had stark white hair, deep-set wrinkles, and clothing that more than gave away their age. The woman had on a jeweled ball cap, and the man wore a perfectly crisp Hawaiian shirt.
Cassandra couldn’t help but wonder what having someone to love truly did in a situation like this. Could love really conquer all? She could wish, but she was alone.
Except for Gabe.
For the second time in one day, his beautiful face came to life in her mind. It morphed until touches of gray weaved through the hair at his temples and the smallest hint of wrinkles spread across his brow and around his eyes.
Growing old.
For the first time, she realized she wasn’t just fighting to live. She was fighting to grow old with someone. To have what the couple mere feet from her shared—a life’s story. A history that would come only from living day-by-day and year-by-year with someone. A love that mattered more than anything else, and if possible, a family with children.
The older couple held hands, the man guiding the woman to a seat with all the chivalry lost in men these days. He dropped a kiss on her hand and slowly lowered himself into a chair, never letting his hold on her go. Cassandra’s mouth went dry, and she struggled not to cry—touched by the simplicity of the love surrounding the elderly couple. Synchronicity radiated from every step they took and the way they touched foreheads, whispering things only they needed to share.
“Good to see you both again,” the receptionist called out with a cheerful tone. “We’ll take you back in just a moment.”
Both. A strangled cry echoed in her mind. They both were going through this demon together. I hope it helps. She closed her eyes, wanting to block the image of the ill-fated couple from her mind. It did nothing. Even with her eyes shut, she could still see the beauty in their relationship, in the lifetime they had clearly spent together.
I want that. Her jaw clenched. I’m going to have that. I’m not letting cancer take that from me.
Resolution was a potent drug, and Cassandra’s resolve was unshakeable. “It’s been a step,” she mused, impressed by her mind’s way of coping with cancer.
“You okay?” Diana asked, starting to get out of the chair.
“Absolutely. I think my brain just worked its way through a maze and finally reached a center. Acceptance.”
“How so?”
“First, I didn’t want to have c
ancer simply for the fact I didn’t want to hear such ugly words. Then, I didn’t want to have it because I didn’t want to die. I had so much left I wanted to do for others. While that’s great, it isn’t going to help me fight. Wanting something for myself—” Cassandra looked in the couple’s direction, “That’s what is going to force me to thrive. I want that, Diana. I want that so badly. Everything about my life has been based on how broken my childhood was. I want something to be about how perfect my future can be.”
Diana reached out and squeezed her hand. “Then you keep that picture in your head, and you fight with all you have to get there.”
She nodded, and though bile still sloshed in her gut, threatening to come up at any moment, she felt stronger. She had so much more to fight for, and though she’d thought it a handful of times since finding out her fate, something about wanting to live to be old was exactly what she needed to give her strength.
“If you’ll let me lean on you, I think I’m ready to go home.”
Sixteen
Two days. Is this considered enough time to wait? Gabe snarled as he chucked the TV remote back onto the bed. Cassandra had reached out while she was being treated and it had taken every fiber of his cosmic being to not race to the damned hospital. He wasn’t a Guardian Angel in this form, but his drive to protect had only strengthened.
Humanity is truly a curse. His father had said as much once, Gabe couldn’t remember why, but he’d never heard his father speak ill of humans ever again. Now, he figured his old man should do it daily.
Gabe was an absolute mess. There might as well be tattered muddy rags on him and not the expensive suit. Gabe wanted to hold Cassandra. To comfort her. To kiss her. All emotions an angel should rarely feel at all, let alone for a human.
For the millionth time in a week, he swore he understood with perfect clarity the reason why angels fell. Temptation and sin did not destroy angels, attraction did. The desire to be with someone was overwhelming in the best possible way.
