by S. L. Giger
I laughed a short laugh. ‘That train has left a long time ago. But at the moment, it would be too dangerous to be around so many people who could carry all different kinds of bacteria. If all goes well though, I could take up some classes next year.’
‘You will.’ Eric nodded determined. He visited me almost every day until his school started. We went down to the hospital cafeteria, out in the park or watched movies in the room. It was good having someone my age to really talk to – no offence to my mom and the nurses- and forget about the cancer at least for a little while.
‘This one?’ My mom held up a box of truffle pralines.
‘Take them to your office, I’m sure somebody will like them.’ We were sorting through gifts people had given to me or my mom to make me feel better. Of course I loved sweets but my stomach had been so sensitive lately that I could only eat a small amount and therefore, I thought I could pass the candy on to people who can appreciate it.
‘Look, your old English teacher wrote you a card.’ She held it up and placed it on the window shelf, next to many other well-wisher cards.
‘I know. Isn’t it amazing how all these people seem to care? I received some cards from people I don’t even know. And Josh’s mom subscribed me to The Runner magazine. Now I receive news from the jogging world once a month. People go out of their way to make my life more agreeable.’
‘That’s how it should be. Most people are good souls, you know. That’s why I still can’t get over it that Fiona just cut off all the communication between the two of you.’ She placed the pile of cards she was holding on her lap.
‘I’m slowly getting used to it. It’s ok.’ My stomach tensed up.
‘It’s not okay.’ She shook her head. ‘That’s not the picture I want you to have from somebody you were so close with. Love means to support each other in any situation life throws in your path.’
‘Mom, leave it be.’ I sighed. ‘I have you and that’s enough.’ I smiled. ‘I wouldn’t know what to do with all these cards if I didn’t have a secretary.’
She pursed her lips and hit my knee with one of the cards.
Apparently, Fiona was still fuming so much that she completely cut all the strings to my life and also my friends. That’s why thankfully, she never heard of my condition and could leave for Florida without a bad conscience, hating me. That hurt, of course, knowing that the one I loved most hated me. I missed her so much I wished that I could turn back in time. So that I could have found another solution that she wouldn’t have to suffer with me but I’d still be able to call her. I reached for my cell phone at least 50 times a day, typed in Fiona’s number and erased it again. I wanted to hear her voice. But what could I have done? I messed up and I had done it on purpose and therefore should not lose sight of this purpose. Everything else would have been egotistic and cruel.
Life got even a lot lonelier when college started. Eric was off to the city and consequently only came back on some weekends. I could leave the hospital of course. Sometimes, there were whole weeks I didn’t have to sleep there. But spending too much time in public places was simply too dangerous. My health was so fragile that any bacteria or a slight cold from a normal person could have been fatal for me. Suddenly, I’d spike a high fever again and my mom would have to rush back to the hospital with me, for any fever over 101 F is considered dangerous to a person being treated with chemo. Thus, most time out of the hospital, I just spent in and around our house.
Since my mom still had to work, often, I was home alone. I read, I watched TV and I was bored. In the second month, I took up cooking lunch and dinners for my mom and me. It filled more of my day and after a while it became fun to try new recipes and cook more difficult things than spaghetti.
‘Mhh, what is this?’ My mom tasted a creamy white soup.
‘Guess.’
‘Asparagus? Although, it doesn’t quite taste like that.’
‘No, cauliflower with a hint of horseradish.’
‘A star chef couldn’t have made it better.’
I was pleased. When I was healthy, I had my challenges with the track races and received praise when I did a good job. Now, what did I have? Oh, wow, well done, you managed to keep down your dinner for more than 30 minutes? I missed being good at something and cooking was the puzzle piece that fitted into my new life.
When I was at the hospital, I wasn’t alone anymore either. I had made some new, unexpected friends while sitting in the waiting area before a check-up. A small about 5-year-old girl with a bald head and big shiny eyes sat in a wheelchair next to her mother opposite me.
‘Can I go play?’ She asked her mom.
‘No, honey, we have to wait.’
‘It’s so boring.’
‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘We will go play afterward.’
‘Yes! They just got a new play mobile set with Indians and cowboys and horses in all colors.’ The girl was so excited, it warmed my heart.
‘Sounds like a fun place.’ I laughed.
The girl eyed me suspiciously. ‘You have no hair either.’
‘That’s correct.’ I answered, smiling about that obvious observation.
‘Only sick children are allowed to play there. You are too old but maybe because you are sick you can still come.’
‘Hey, I’m not that old. Where is this room?’ I asked.
‘The play room on the children’s cancer wing.’ Her mother said. I nodded. The door opened and it was their time to talk to the doctors.
‘Well, maybe I’ll come by.’ I said and waved to the girl.
After my appointment, I went to look for this room. My heart melted at the sight of all these little bald heads creating their own fun worlds with the few toys they are given.
‘Hey, you found it.’ The girl with the wheelchair spotted me.
‘I did. And what’s the best thing to play with?’
‘I like the drawing table.’ She pointed to a tiny table with a few tiny chairs. ‘Can you draw?’
‘No, not really.’ I said.
‘Aw, I wished you could. I wanted to color a unicorn but there is none in the book.’ The girl was so cute, I just wanted to cuddle her. Above all, I didn’t want to disappoint her.
‘I’m not good at drawing, but I can practice it at home. I will draw you a unicorn and bring it back here another day. Does that sound good?’
‘Yes!’ The girl clapped her hands.
‘When will you be back?’ I asked her mom.
‘Usually Wednesdays and Fridays.’
‘Okay, I’ll see you soon then. What’s your name?’
‘Sylvie.’
‘Oh, that’s a beautiful name. I’m Kevin.’
At home, I googled pictures from drawing books. I copied a few on normal paper. I sketched around as long until I was satisfied with the result. I drew a speech bubble and wrote ‘Hey Sylvie, can I be your friend?’ This was fun and so I tried my sketching abilities with a few more things. I never thought I had an artistic nerve but perhaps it was in hiding because I was so concentrated on sport. From then on, I sketched something every day, plants, food, furniture or I copied comic figures.
On Wednesday, I went back to the children’s room and Sylvie was there. I handed her the drawing.
‘Oh wow, that’s really good.’ Her face lit up and she giggled. But then a shadow wandered through her eyes.
‘What does it say, I can’t read.’
I told her and she followed my lips with her eyes as if she’d miraculously learn reading that way.
‘Oh, cool, yes. What else does it say?’
And because I couldn’t get enough of that little girl’s giggle, I started telling her the story of her and the unicorn and the adventures they had in the magic forest. She clung to my words as if it was the most interesting story in the world and by then there were even a few other kids listening to me. When a dragon appeared in the story, a little boy shouted ‘What does he look like? Can you draw him, to
o?’
I did try a few dragons at home, so I sketched one on a piece of paper from the drawing table.
‘Awesome.’ The boy yelled.
‘Yes, can you make me one?’ Another one said. ‘Me, too.’ Followed some other children.
‘I’m not that fast. How about I come back again and will draw more things for you then and tell you more stories?’
‘When?’ One of the boys asked.
‘In two days?’
‘Okay. But promise.’ Somebody else said.
I promised and from then, at least once a week, I drew a few pictures and then would embed them into a story for the kids. I became quite popular as the hospitals’ story teller. Even some nurses or parents would drop by sometimes to look at the pictures or enjoy hearing the laughter of the children.
Chapter 14
‘Not so well.’ I heard my mom say in a hushed voice. She was talking on the phone in another corner of my hospital room, thinking I was asleep.
‘He should have entered remission two months ago. That’s when his body should have stopped producing cancer cells.’ There was a silence. I imagined how my mom was hunched over the small table in the corner, holding her tired face with her free hand. I knew she was worried about me now. So was I. I opened my eyes and boxed into the wall, quickly thereafter regretting it because my hand throbbed with pain and the picc line fell on top of me because I ripped on it too much. My mom rushed towards me.
‘Are you okay?’ She was still holding the phone in her hand.
‘Yes.’ I said through gritted teeth, trying to shake the pain off.
‘I’ll call you back.’ My mom said into the phone. Then, she moved the chair closer to me and sat down.
‘I told you, you shouldn’t be so hopeful. You only get disappointed.’ I broke the silence.
‘It’s normal that not everything goes according to plan. Now we’re just not on wishful protocol anymore.’ She said softly.
‘But I’m tired.’ I gasped out. ‘My body is exhausted. All I can do is lie in my bed like a 90-year-old person.’ One year ago I played volleyball with Fiona and my goal was to win her over. Then, this cancer made me push her away. I snorted. ‘I hate this cancer. I should be making my first experiences with alcohol instead of having a picc line and I.V. in each arm, which by the way, makes it impossible to lie in any other position than that of a mummy. I should be working extra hours next to college, to save some money for traveling. I should be doing so many things except lying in this stupid hospital bed.’
‘For the most part, I agree with you.’ She sat up straighter.
‘I don’t want to keep fighting.’ I said quietly. ‘The chemo destroys more of me than it should. I’m fighting against my own body, so how could it in any way be possible for this to have a positive outcome?’
‘There will be some remaining damages, once you got rid of the cancer but that’s still better than not being here at all.’ She said with an urgency in her eyes.
I swallowed. ‘The doctors said that I could take a break from chemo for a while. Give myself a break.’
My mom nodded with an earnest face. ‘But chances during that time are higher that the cancer cells start revolting again.’
‘I know that but I can’t feel this crappy any longer. This isn’t a life anybody wants to endure.’ I said with a raspy voice.
‘I know.’ My mom said defeated. ‘So, let’s take the doctors suggestion and once you feel stronger we start again.’ She kissed my forehead and stroke over my stubbles on my head. Nevertheless, once she left the room, I felt like I had failed myself, my mom and everyone who believed in me. I pressed the pillow over my head and yelled into the mattress until I didn’t have any air left.
Two weeks into my chemo break, I started feeling the first positive effects. I had more energy and even though the season got colder and therefore, the flu was lurking around every corner, on every door knob and every faucet and I had trouble breathing the cold air outside, I had enough power to wear a face mask and take walks along the beach or take up my regular schedule to visit the kids at the hospital again and draw for them.
At Thanksgiving, I was strong enough that we could spend it at Eric’s house. While the others enjoyed the feast, I managed to keep down a little taste of everything.
‘Well, you seem to have gotten stronger since we visited you at the hospital last time.’ Eric’s mom looked at my empty plate. ‘Do you want more?’
‘I’m good, thanks.’ I smiled. ‘I had almost forgotten how good it was to actually enjoy food. Makes it even harder to believe that soon, I’ll give this up again.’ I frowned.
‘He will start chemo again in 10 days.’ My mom filled in.
‘We are here for you.’ His mom said. ‘You can give us a ring anytime.’
‘We appreciate that.’ My mom smiled.
Later, Eric and I sat in the winter garden next to a heater, where it was nice and cozy.
‘How is college?’ I asked.
‘Fun. But also a lot of work.’
‘Do you go to parties?’
He shrugged. ‘Sometimes. They get the same after a while.’
‘But how are they?’ I demanded to know.
‘Crazy. People don’t know how to behave themselves anymore.’ Eric shook his head. ‘It’s almost embarrassing actually.’ Then he sighed. ‘There’s something I didn’t want to tell you on the phone.’
I looked at him expectantly.
‘Lea and I broke up.’
‘Whaaat? You’ve been together that long. I was sure the next thing I’d receive from you is the invitation to your wedding.’
‘That’s the problem. We know each other so well that all the electricity is gone. We are more like friends than lovers. Something was missing and we both felt it.’
‘You both agree with this?’ I still couldn’t believe it.
‘Yes. We still talk to each other but I’m excited to be able to get to know new girls.’
‘Maybe it’s simply a phase you’re going through and it will all work out again in a few weeks or months?’ I let go of a breath.
‘You seem to take this harder than me.’ He laughed.
‘You were my relationship role models. That love at a young age was possible. If even you say that it just turns to a friendship afterward. What’s the point of it?’
‘Even if it turns into a friendship, you still need to have some kind of spark in the relationship. Something that keeps it interesting. We share everything and yet there was no passion about anything. It’s fine, really.’ He nodded assuring. ‘We broke up because we still believe that a longer lasting relationship with love is possible.’
I kept quiet.
‘Whereas you, really just threw something amazing away. I still think that was the most stupid thing you did and I know quite a few stupid things you came up with during all those years we have known each other.’
‘How nice of you.’ I sighed. ‘Have you heard from Fiona?’ I then asked.
‘Why should I?’ He reached for his teacup.
‘She must really hate me.’ I said quietly.
‘At least that would mean that she still has feelings for you.’ He offered.
‘Well, soon it’s back to chemo again anyway and I will have a lot of sleepless nights to ponder about all of this some more.’ It was impossible for my mind, not to think about Fiona. Even if I tried to distract myself, in the end, my thoughts would always go back to her.
Back on chemo, nothing had changed to the first phase of treatment. Every inch of my body hurt and more than once, the thought entered my head that it would be easier to just be dead.
‘How does your chest feel today?’ Doctor Mercurry asked me on his daily round.
‘6.’ I said to indicate the pain between one and 10. I had a port in my chest through which I could receive the medicine more quickly but it was very uncomfortable.
‘Still not perfect but we are get
ting there. At least your bloodwork shows the right reaction to the treatment this time.’
I nodded pressing my lips together. ‘But you can’t guarantee whether I can spend Christmas at home.’ I really hoped for my mom that I could do her that favor.
‘Unfortunately, not. Your T cell count has to go up for that. But other than that, I’m happy with you, Kevin. We are on the right track.’
‘That’s good to hear.’ I whispered, hoping that he was right. Our house would be too sad and empty with no one in it at Christmas time.
On December 20th my mom and I were invited into the doctor’s office at the hospital once more.
‘It must be good news this time if they want to see us both.’ My mom said as we were walking along the sterile hallway, holding on tightly to the strap of her purse.
‘Or that we need a change of plan because it’s not working.’ I responded.
But indeed, I received an early Christmas present.
‘So, Kevin, I have two good news for you today.’ Doctor Mercurry said and continued without a break. ‘Firstly, you can spend Christmas at home and secondly, you finally entered remission.’
‘Oh, that’s wonderful news.’ My mom clasped her hand into a praying position.
I let go of a long breath. ‘That’s a good start.’ I smiled.
‘Yes, you are right, it’s a start. Your next steps are to begin with radiation to make sure that no cancer is hiding in your spinal or brain fluid. Next to that, you will have daily chemo which you can take at home and once monthly at the hospital through your port. Now, I’m pretty confident that in 2 ½ years you will have fought this completely out of your system.’
‘Two and a half years?’ I puffed my cheeks.
‘Yes. That’s why I advise you to go home now and enjoy Christmas. Celebrate this first achievement.’
