Now it’s just me and my parents. Despite my constant mood swings, my parents are always there for me. They understand that I don’t want to get my hopes up because if it doesn’t work out, it’ll wreck me. Literally. It doesn’t mean they aren’t hopeful. As I near the final leg of my treatment, they’re praying it works. I’m praying too.
The doctors tell me I’ll be able to go home soon. The treatment isn’t over, but the last leg is a little easier. I’ll have to return to the hospital every single day, and some days I’ll even have to remain for a while longer, but it’s something—small victories and all.
I’ll take anything at this point. I’m even excited about getting to see a wall that isn’t one of the ones I’ve been facing for the last few months. I can’t wait to wake up in my own bed. I want to try and gather the pieces of my life, the pieces I’d abandoned when I didn’t know if I would ever have the chance to live again.
I’m hoping I can put those pieces back together, but I’m also hoping that cancer doesn’t tear apart the puzzle. Again.
2
JESSE
I turn off the shower, grab a towel and exit the shower rooms. Practice is over, and while my body is screaming in pain, my mind knows I’ve gotta keep going. I can’t stop now.
Work hard, play hard. That’s supposed to be the motto of my life, except it couldn’t be further from the truth. The summer has just started, but as both a football player and a pre-med student, this doesn’t actually mean I’m free to do whatever I want.
In reality, it means the opposite.
Not only am I busting my ass running up and down the field for practices and scrimmages, but now I also get to run up and down the halls of a hospital for my internship. All for the sake of my future—an internship at the Children’s Hospital that’s wanted by many, but only given to a lucky few. I’d like to think the only reason I got it was because I earned it—because I work my ass off, that my grades are among the top of my class, but I’d be a fool to think my parents didn’t influence the decision in some way. They’re connected to this hospital, and, in more ways than I’d like to admit, so am I. If it weren’t for all of these things coming together, I wouldn’t have the internship. I’m not sure I’d even want it.
“Are you good?” Colton asks behind me as I start changing into my scrubs.
“Yup, just running over to the hospital for the first day of my internship,” I remind him.
“Think you’ll be able to deal with being there every day?” he asks, and I know exactly why—he’s worried.
“If I want to help fight cancer, I’m going to have to be,” I assure him. Colton nods his head, seemingly content with the response I’ve given him—it’s the same one I’ve used every time he’s asked before. He knows me well enough to tell that I’m nervous and scared to return but determined enough to push myself through it. I’ve been playing alongside him for a while now, and I know he cares about each of us. Despite his sometimes… unfriendly demeanor, he’s a brother to all of us—to me especially.
“Do you think you’ll be good for practice tomorrow? I can tell Coach you’ve gotta miss it if you want?”
“I should be good. I signed up for this, so it’s on me.” I pat him on the shoulder. “Thanks though.”
“No need. You know you’re family.”
“I appreciate that, man. How’s Mia?’ I ask, switching the subject. I retrieve my book bag from my locker, and when I turn, I can see his expression has transformed—softened. The moment her name is mentioned, he turns into a different man.
I remember that feeling.
“She’s good,” he says, unable to stop himself from smiling.
“Good,” I answer. I’m happy to see he’s found happiness. I just hope he can hold on to it for as long as possible.
“Alright, well, I’ll see you tonight,” I add, turning towards the exit. I’m ready to get this first day over with.
“Maybe,” he says, and I shake my head without looking back at him. This means he’ll likely be spending the night at Mia’s. Since they’ve started dating, and in the aftermath of Abbigail, Colton and Mia have been inseparable. The guys joke that we barely get to see him anymore. We all give him shit for it, but I think each of us has appreciated how Mia has made him a happier person.
I hop in my car, turn on the engine, and peel out of the parking lot. I drive to the hospital in silence, mentally preparing myself to take this on. I devise a game plan, trying to account for all possible contingencies. I tell myself that it’s all going to work out. But the closer I get to the hospital, the faster my heart beats. My pulse is racing, and the fear is creeping in. I’ve driven this way too many times before, and while the reason I drive in this direction today is a little different, it isn’t really. It’s the same.
I park my car in the very familiar lot and open the door. After one final calming breath, I head towards the entrance. Despite the weight trying to hold my feet in place, I force one foot in front of the other and move towards the revolving doors. I know why I’m here. I know I have to be here if I ever want to become a doctor—I will become a doctor. I assure myself of these things with every step, convincing myself that turning around and walking away won’t help me achieve my goal. It won’t help me live up to my promise.
When I’m finally inside, I take a look at the interior, noticing all of the changes that have occurred since I was last here. The white walls are now covered with art. I guess it’s to make it look livelier—less like a hospital. Another wall is painted with an ocean scene filled with a multitude of fish, coral, and sea life of all sorts. The other wall has a huge tree with bright red apples everywhere. I commend their efforts to make this place look less stoic. Children’s hospitals aren’t supposed to scare the children or be devoid of all creativity, art, and expression.
I take a deep breath and head straight toward the receptionist sitting at the front desk.
“Hi,” I greet her with a shaky smile.
“Hello, how can I help you?” she answers with a smile of her own.
“My name is Jesse Falcon, and I’m one of the interns starting today,” I inform her.
“Oh yes!” she says, nodding. “You’re the first to arrive. I’ll let Dr. Roman know.”
“Perfect, thanks.”
She points at some chairs lining one side of the wall in the waiting room. “You can wait over there for her.”
“Thanks,” I say again, walking in the direction of the chairs. I sit in the closest one I can find. It’s pathetic that as a six-foot-one, two-hundred-and-fifteen-pound football player, I need to take a seat before my legs give out. But I can’t help it.
“Calm down, Falcon. Stop being a coward,” I mutter under my breath.
“Mr. Falcon?” a woman in a white coat says, standing in front of me.
I jerk my head up. “Yes.” I rise from my seat.
“I’m Doctor Roman,” she says, extending her hand to me.
“Jesse,” I tell her, shaking her hand. I smile awkwardly when she gives me a knowing look after I introduce myself. Clearly, she already knows my name.
“Thank you so much for being here today. We’re excited to have you as one of our interns this summer.”
“Thank you for having me, ma’am.”
“I see you’ve followed our instructions and have your scrubs on,” she tells me with a warm smile.
“Just trying to fall in line.” That’s all I ever try to do.
“I can already tell everyone will love interacting with you—especially our patients, Jesse.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” I tell her, though I’m unsure.
“I’d like to give you a quick tour of the hospital. The other interns won’t be here for another week.”
“Great,” I tell her, following her lead.
“We’ll start with the staff, and then I want to give you a tour of the oncology unit. Based on your interest form, I think that’s where you’ll be spending most of your time.”
> “Sounds great.” I say the words, trying to sound as excited as possible but knowing I’m not. It’s a necessary evil. Something I have to do.
I follow behind Dr. Roman, trying to pay attention as she talks about the hospital’s architecture, its history, the staff members, and some of the patients. She briefly mentions she knows my parents, which reminds me of how I managed to be here this summer. Despite my hesitance in coming, I hope to show her that I deserve my spot, that I didn’t buy it. I’m here because of who I am, because of what I’ve been through, and that goes beyond my parents’ network.
I tune out of the rest of the conversation, as I’m too distracted looking around and taking in my surroundings, cataloguing the new additions to this place, while also remembering everything that remains the same. We walk by a hall, and I can see people standing outside of the doors. Some have their eyes closed, while others wipe away tears. The common thread is that they’re all visibly tired, all fighting unimaginable battles. I look at them and then look away when memories start running through my head.
“Are you excited to begin?” Dr. Roman asks, clueing me back in to the conversation.
“Extremely!” Again, I fake enthusiasm. I hope I’m a better actor than I think.
“Great. You have some paperwork to fill out, and after that, you’re free to go home. We’ll start you tomorrow, and you’ll just be assigned to this floor,” Dr. Roman says, guiding me to the HR office.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re going to have to stop calling me ma’am at some point, son. ‘Doctor’ works. ‘Roman’ works. ‘Stacey’ works. Just not ma’am,” she says with a carefree smile.
“Sorry, ma’am— I mean, Dr. Roman.”
“That’s better. This is your stop. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says as we enter the Human Resources office.
“I’ll be ready tomorrow,” I tell her. Maybe saying it out loud will help me convince myself. That I can, in fact, do this.
“See you tomorrow, bright and early.”
“See you then.”
Hopefully.
3
ZOE
As I’ve done every day since I got the chance to go home, I arrive at the hospital and greet Rose, the receptionist. She gives me the sweetest of smiles and tells me she’s happy to see me doing so well. She says that every day, and I think it’s out of habit, or to make me feel better. I allow myself a moment to think about the fact that I am doing better than I was before. I also know the moment I enter the Poison Room, the feeling of doing well will change. I call it this because the drugs that are pumped through my veins not only kill the cancer cells, but also what little will I have left to keep fighting.
“Hey, Rob,” I say, greeting the elderly man sitting just outside the Poison Room.
“Hey, Zoe. Nice to see you!” he answers animatedly.
“Good to see you, too,” I reply. I see Rob all the time because he’s always here. He isn’t a patient, but his granddaughter, Maria, is.
“How’s the treatment going?” he asks.
“Same old, same old. Just glad I get a break from the hospital stench,” I respond, cringing at my own words. Here he is, stuck at the hospital because of his granddaughter, and the only thing I can tell him is that I’m happy I’m not here.
“You can say that again,” Rob says, surprising me with an understanding smile.
“How’s Maria?” I ask.
“Grandbaby isn’t doing too well, but God willing, she’ll pull through,” he says, holding back tears I can see are ready to fall—tears I know he’s shed before.
“She will,” I assure him. I say it to comfort him because in reality, I have no idea. I can only hope that she’ll get to be a kid—to grow into a teen. Maybe she can. Up until recently, I didn’t think I’d pull through. Sometimes I still think I won’t—I may not. Maria, well, she’s been here for a few months more than I have. She was the first person I saw when I got here. One day, I heard her crying in the room next to mine, and since that day I avoided it like the plague. When I heard her laughter resonate through the walls a few days later, I was drawn in.
Like me, Maria got the chance to go home a few months ago, but then she was brought back. The doctors said the treatment hadn’t worked; she was relapsing. Now, she needs a bone marrow transplant and additional rounds of chemo. If those work, she’ll get to live.
Rob comes to the hospital every day to give his daughter, Martha, a few minutes to step out of the room and breathe, and to spend time with his granddaughter. Despite his age, he’s decided to donate bone marrow to Maria since he’s a match.
I remember talking to Martha about the whole process a few weeks ago. She’d told me about what Maria was like before coming to this hospital. I loved hearing stories about her birthday parties. Martha also told me about losing her husband while he was deployed. Even while recounting this story to me, she remained strong. I could tell she was tired and desperate for something to go her way but that she wasn’t going to complain. She was going to take it one day at a time and fight alongside her daughter. She’s strong like that, and I envied her optimism—her outlook.
“What are you doing out here?” I ask after a few seconds of silence. He rarely stays out in the waiting room; he’s usually inside, making Maria laugh.
“I just needed a quick break, but her mama is in there with her. She just went through another round of chemo… it breaks my heart to see her suffer,” he says, tears finally gliding down his face.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. I really am sorry that this is something she has to face, something anyone has to face.
“Me too. I would switch places with her in a heartbeat. She’s got so much life left to live, and mine is coming to an end.”
I pat him on the shoulder, trying to comfort him. “I know you would. But don’t say that, old man; you’ll get a long life to enjoy watching Maria grow into a woman.”
I take a seat next to him, offering my silent support.
He smiles in-between tears. “Thank you.” My hand finds his, and I hold on to the man who’s become like a grandfather to me while I’ve been at this hospital. I remain quiet, as there’s nothing else I can say that’ll make him feel better, nothing that’ll stop Maria’s suffering.
I silently pray for her treatment to work, for this family to once again find the joy that cancer has taken from them.
Fiona, one of the younger nurses, comes into the room and beckons for me to follow her. “Zoe, we’re ready for you.”
“Keep praying,” I tell Rob as I take measured steps in the direction of the Poison Room. That’s what my parents did—that’s what my parents do. They pray it’ll work.
JESSE
I still can’t believe I managed to get my feet and head to sync and take me to the hospital. My heart, on the other hand, wanted to stay as far from it as possible.
Today has been a little bit of everything. I’ve been running around the different floors, trying to reorient myself with the hospital. In true intern fashion, I also made some coffee runs for a few of the nurses, and even some of the doctors. I didn’t mind being an errand-boy because it was a built-in break—a chance for me to catch my breath.
After filling in wherever was necessary and doing some paperwork, Dr. Roman told me I was good to head over to the oncology floor and remain there for the duration of my internship. I won’t be shuffling between floors and helping whoever needs me. Instead, I’m the sole property of the oncology unit. I know Dr. Roman is placing me there because she knows that cancer is my area of interest, and while I appreciate her for looking out for me, I’m overwhelmed at the idea of spending months on this floor–months watching patients go through different stages of treatment. I’m grateful for the opportunity, but at the same time, just walking these halls brings back painful memories, but I know they’ll compel me to do something.
“Have a seat,” I hear one of the nurses, Fiona, I think her name is, say from right behind me as I finish clean
ing up some of the equipment in the treatment room. “It’s Jesse, right?”
I turn around, my eyes connecting with hers, but immediately jumping to the pretty redheaded girl standing next to her, her light hazel eyes a stark contrast to the fiery red of her hair.
“Hello?” Fiona adds impatiently.
“Yes, hi.” I stumble on my words when I realize I haven’t answered the nurse because I’d been staring at the girl for too long.
“Have you met Zoe yet?" she asks as the girl, Zoe, walks over to one of the chairs set up for chemo patients. She does it mechanically, like she’s not in control of her own movements.
“No, I haven’t. It’s nice to meet you, Zoe,” I say, waving at her, even though she doesn’t seem to be aware of what’s happening.
“Huh?” Her hazel eyes capture my own once again.
“Nice meeting you,” I repeat.
“Is it?” she replies, and I can’t help cracking a smile.
Fiona says, “As you can probably tell, Zoe loves to be sassy.”
“You love me and my sass,” Zoe shoots back with a wink.
“You’re not wrong,” Fiona tells her and then adds, “Zoe has a few rounds of chemo left before she’s done with her treatment. She’s an outpatient who comes in for regular checkups each day. We schedule her for chemo rounds every couple of weeks, at which point she stays for an additional few days until we send her back home again.”
I nod my head, following what she’s saying like this is the first time I’m hearing it. The thing is, I know all too well what the process is like.
Bragan Boys (Bragan University Boxset) Page 21
