Every Last Drop: A Novel

by Sarah Robinson

  “Sir, it’s not up to—”

  “I’ll call him then,” Kyle interrupted her and stepped away, pulling out his phone.

  I shifted my weight from one leg to the next and cleared my throat, standing there alone.

  “You don’t have to do this, you know,” the technician said, barely above a whisper as she leaned over the counter. Her eyes darted between Kyle and I. “It’s not natural. This is a sin.”

  My jaw clenched, wondering if it was legal for her to say that to me.

  She continued, “It’s not up to us to decide when our lives are over. It’s up to God.”

  “God already decided to end my life,” I replied.

  She looked startled. My words had come out harsher than even I’d intended, but I wasn’t sorry. “Can I pray for your soul then?” She reached her hand out and I recoiled, stepping back so fast I almost collided into Kyle.

  “Dr. Morales is coming,” he told the technician as he steadied me, his hands on my arms. “You okay, babe?”

  I continued to glare at the technician. “I’ll be fine as soon as we’re home.”

  Dr. Morales hurried into the waiting room a few minutes later, giving us a quick nod before heading through an Authorized Personnel Only door to the pharmacy. I could hear him and the technician having a heated conversation, but couldn’t make out their words.

  Kyle laced his fingers through mine and kissed my knuckles.

  It was one thing to have my family question my decisions, it was another for a total stranger to judge me—to tell me I was sinning. How? For not wanting to be in pain? Not wanting to die slowly as my family watched helplessly? Did God really want that for me? For anyone?

  I couldn’t believe that.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Falls.” Dr. Morales crossed the waiting room. “I apologize. I didn’t realize the supervisor wasn’t on duty yet when I sent you down here. I know he’ll fill the prescription for you. He and I already spoke about it.”

  “Can she really refuse to fill it?” I asked. “It’s not like we’re doing anything illegal.”

  “You’re not. You’re definitely not. However, just like you have a right to your choices, so does she. The one thing she doesn’t have a right to, is to make you feel badly.”

  I could feel the strain on the corners of my lips from how hard I was frowning, because this felt like another hoop. We were so close—then, road block.

  Dr. Morales continued. “The law is still so new, and there are some kinks to work out. It’ll be filled within the hour if you don’t mind waiting. I can get you some vouchers for the cafeteria while you wait. How about that?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not hungry, but thank you.”

  “Well, again, I’m sorry for the trouble. The lead pharmacist should be here shortly.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Morales.” Kyle’s tone was as grim as his expression when we were left alone again, waiting for the clock to wind down. Something I seemed to be doing a lot of lately.

  I grabbed a magazine off a nearby side table and began flipping through it as Kyle rotated between sitting and pacing in front of me. My mind flitted to the possibility of ripping it to pieces and littering glossy confetti across the waiting room. A few months ago, I would have done something like that. I’ve always been a little passive aggressive instead of speaking my mind. This changed me. I’d learned to pick my battles, and to put my foot down for what’s really important to me. I was angry with the technician, but she wasn’t a battle I wanted to fight. I didn’t need to convince her to respect my decision.

  But Elly? I needed her to understand.

  I spared the magazine its shredded fate and flipped through a few more pages. None of the articles kept my attention so I returned it and watched my husband instead.

  “This is bullshit, you know,” he said when he caught my eye.

  I nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  Kyle sighed loudly. “I can’t wait for this to be over.”

  I looked at him, but he quickly shook his head. “Not you.” He gestured between us, then around his head. “This. Being in the hospital. Dealing with these ridiculous hurdles. I can’t wait for that part to be over.”

  “Me, too,” I said, mostly to comfort him.

  Kyle picked up a magazine, scanned through it, then tossed it down. He did the same thing with three more until he gave up and stared at the stucco ceiling.

  I stared at everyone, my mind retreating to my little sister. I wished Elly had come with us. I wondered how she’d react to the pharmacist who refused to fill my prescription—if she’d defend me, or side with the technician. The realization that I didn’t know if my sister would be there for me, frightened me. I’d never doubted her before, and now when I needed her the most, there was a chasm between us.

  Sighing, I pulled out my phone and logged onto Facebook. Since I was stuck here at least an hour, I might as well check my messages from yesterday.

  Tessa, we’re so sorry you’re going through this. Please let us know what we can do to help. Anything you need!

  Tessa, my aunt has a homeopathic company that makes all organic balms and remedies. I think you should try some! Don’t give up yet!

  I’m praying for your speedy recovery, Tessa. It’s not over yet. Trust in God, and His faith will get you through.

  Tessa, you’re so young and a decision like this is forever. You never know what new drugs and cures they’ll come up with.

  This is so wrong. You can’t take your own life. That’s suicide! Please reconsider! We’re all here for you, but please, don’t do this!

  The messages went on and on. Everyone had an opinion. Everyone wanted to say their piece—none of it for me.

  Death is the one time your life should be selfish. People I hadn’t spoken to in years suddenly contacting me—wanting to know they mattered to me, they care about me. In reality, they had years before I was dying to tell me how much I meant, but life got in the way.

  I responded to a few messages, just a quick thank you. The more judgmental messages, I left unanswered. I didn’t owe them an explanation. There were only three people whose opinion mattered to me.

  My choice was controversial. I knew that. I had to move across the country to make it possible. I knew my family wouldn’t love the idea. I didn’t expect them to jump for joy or welcome it, but I did expect them to support me.

  Maybe that was naive.

  I could see the pain in Kyle’s eyes. He wasn’t on board yet. Elly’s certainly not hiding her discomfort with my decision. But it’d been almost two months since I’d told my family and to be honest, that’s more than enough time for them to accept this—even if they still disagree.

  I had so few months left. Each minute matters.

  A sigh escaped me—my millionth in the last few weeks—and I put my phone in my pocket, seriously considering deleting my social media accounts entirely.

  “I think this is us.” Kyle pointed to an older man with a friendly smile approaching.

  “Mr. And Mrs. Falls?” he asked, pulling on the lapels of his white lab coat.

  I snapped to attention. “Yes?”

  Kyle stood. “That’s us.”

  The pharmacist looked both confident and nervous. “I was filled in on your situation. If you’d like to come over to window three, I can help you.”

  “Thank you,” I said, standing with Kyle’s help.

  We followed him to the counter, and he went around to the other side.

  “We have two medications.” The pharmacist held up two orange prescription bottles littered with colorful warning stickers and instructions. I’d never seen so many tabs sticking off a prescription bottle in my life. His voice lowered as he continued, “They should both be taken at the same time, or within a minute or two of each other, but they will work at different paces. The first will cause you to fall asleep, generally within a few minutes. You’ll feel nothing beyond that point. The second is capsules you’ll break open into water and drink. The taste isn’t
great, I’ll be honest. It will take longer to kick in, but the second one is the one that will stop your heart.”

  I nodded, absorbing everything like my life would depend on it. Which it does. I snorted, mentally laughing at the morbid joke. The pharmacist and Kyle both shot me questioning looks, which made me quickly clear my throat and nod along.

  “The instructions are listed on the bottles, as well as this pamphlet I’ll put in the bag,” the pharmacist continued. He held up a thick stack of papers that could rival a book. “You should make sure your nurse is present when you take these, and don’t take them unless you’re absolutely ready.”

  “I understand,” I assured him. “Dr. Morales explained the process to us at great length.”

  “Good.” He double-checked the bag. “It’s a big decision. I’m sorry today didn’t go as smoothly as hoped. My mother passed from lung cancer long before death with dignity acts were considered. Watching her suffer at the end, just waiting…it was horrible. I fully support what you’re doing, and I’m sure the decision hasn’t been easy.”

  My mouth parted, surprised at both his personal admission and his candor. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have someone not walking on eggshells around me. “Thank you,” I replied honestly. “I’m sorry about your mother.”

  “I’m sorry about your cancer,” he said.

  I liked him even more.

  Chapter Thirty

  Tuesday, August 12, 2014

  My eyes blinked open quickly as a sharp pain slammed down my spine to my toes. I quivered for a moment, trying to handle the onslaught of what felt like millions of needles stabbing me while every muscle in my body locked up.

  My breath hitched, and I held it in my lungs as I slowly counted to ten.

  Between four and seven, my vision faded to black, but by the time I got to ten, everything had subsided. Only a dull throb in my limbs as my muscles tried to relax.

  These sudden aches and seizes were happening more and more.

  Groaning, I pushed up to a seated position and slid my legs down the side of the bed. An oversized cardigan was draped over the footrest and I pulled it around my shoulders, my skin shivering from the cold.

  “Tessa?” a sleepy voice beside me stirred. “It’s early, babe.”

  I glanced behind me at Kyle. “I know, I can’t sleep. I need to stretch my legs.”

  “Want me to go with you?” Concern etched his sleepy expression.

  I shook my head. “I’m just going to make some tea.”

  “Okay.” He yawned as his head hit the pillow. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too,” I replied, feeling something strange behind my words. I felt off…disingenuous.

  I got to my feet and made my way to the kitchen, filling the teakettle with water and putting it on the stove. I stood and watched it boil. I’d always heard a watched pot never boils, but I’d never tested the theory. There were so many things in life I’d just taken for granted as the way it was, but now? I had so many questions.

  The teakettle began whistling after a while. I watched the steam billow from the tip, more aggressive with each passing second. It surged into the kitchen air, screaming at the top of its lungs and I just let it. Finally, I pulled it off the burner and poured the hot water into a mug, dunking the tea bag rhythmically. Still too hot to drink, I carried it to the back porch—one of my favorite parts of the house.

  A wraparound veranda, it emptied onto the grass with the perfect view of the lake. The water lapped at the edges of the dock, a wall of stone keeping it from merging with our yard. A small rowboat bobbed against the currents, tied to the end of the wooden dock as the morning sun slowly began to rise over the horizon.

  I sat in a chaise recliner, stretching my legs in front of me, watching the steam rise from my mug and disappear into the cool, fresh morning air. The aroma filled my nostrils and my stomach growled, though I wasn’t hungry. The sun peaked ever so slightly, barely there, on the edge of the lake.

  Blowing on my tea, I watched everything around me happening slowly, trying not to blink. Trying not to miss a single second of this moment.

  How many mornings had I spent never actually watching the sun rise from start to finish? The myriad of colors was soft and pale, yet bright and vibrant all at once. It was breathtaking and somehow…infuriating. How could something as majestic as a sunrise exist in the same world where cancer kills?

  A wet nuzzle pressed against my leg and I looked down to see Beast attempt—and fail—to jump up and join me. Reaching down with one arm, I scooped him onto the chair beside me where he cuddled into the crook of my knee, fast asleep and snoring a minute later.

  We stayed like that for a while—him oblivious, and me overanalyzing everything.

  I loved my husband, I loved my family, I loved my life. But I didn’t feel very loving. My cancer would be an easy excuse. No one would expect me to feel chipper with a brain tumor. But my brain wasn’t the problem—it was my heart.

  I’d spent months uprooting my entire life in pursuit of one thing I thought would fix everything. Now? I was more broken than ever before. It felt as if everything was already over, and I hadn’t even died yet.

  The sunrise ended shortly, peeking high enough for its colors to dissolve into bright orange. I closed my eyes for a minute, or maybe more, feeling the rhythmic thump of Beast’s heartbeat against my leg. I smoothed a hand across his soft fur, focusing on his curls as they whispered against my fingers.

  “Tessa?”

  My eyes blinked open as my thoughts were interrupted by Kyle. “Yeah?”

  “Morning, babe.” He leaned over the back of the chair I was sprawled on and kissed my temple. “The nurse is here.”

  I relished the feeling of his lips against me, soaking in the affection I wanted to want. “Already? She’s early.”

  He glanced at his watch. “You’ve been out here two hours, babe. Want me to make you some more tea? That must be cold by now.”

  I sipped the edge of my cup and he was right—it was freezing. I must have dozed off for a bit. Beast jumped to the ground as I pushed to my feet. “Yeah, that would be great. I’m a bit hungry, too.”

  “What about eggs?” he asked. “I’m going to make some.”

  A wave of nausea slammed through me and my hand flew to the base of my throat. Shaking my head, I swallowed hard and waited for the feeling to pass. When it finally did, I choked out, “No eggs.”

  Kyle’s face was concerned. “Let’s go see the nurse. She’ll have meds for the nausea.”

  He offered me his arm and I slid my hand around his elbow. I was getting weaker every day, definitely thinner now, but not enough to look sickly. I knew it wouldn’t be long though.

  When we entered the dining room, a tiny brunette was facing away from me, rifling through a medical bag. She began pulling out the items she needed, placing them in an orderly line on the table that she was only slighter taller than herself.

  “Hi there,” I greeted her.

  She turned to me, a slightly crooked smile that added so much personality to her face. I immediately wanted to know her, like her, and trust her. Her bright eyes shone and her hand rested on a swollen, pregnant belly that was so large it seemed she’d tip over. “Hi! You must be Tessa! I’m Malaika—and before you ask, my parents loved unusual names.”

  We shook hands, and I smiled at her signature North Eastern accent that didn’t at all match her African name. A tiny pale woman who’d undoubtedly never seen the sun long enough to tan was the last person I expected to hold such a beautiful Swahili name, but it only made me love her that much more.

  “Good to meet you, Malaika. I’m Tessa, and this is my husband, Kyle.” I nodded toward her belly. “Congratulations.”

  She rubbed her hands across her stomach affectionately. “Thanks! I’m due in a little less than three months, but I popped early. This baby is going to be bigger than me.”

  “You must be so excited,” I told her, digging deep to find a way to be
happy for her. Babies were always a gift, but…it was a cruel slap of fate to give me the pregnant nurse. “Children are such a blessing.”

  “That’s what I hear!” she exclaimed. “This will be my first, so I’m excited. Do you guys have kids?”

  “We don’t have any kids,” Kyle intervened, and I let out a small sigh of relief. “So, what do you need to get started today, Malaika?”

  “Nothing, actually,” Malaika assured him. “I’ll need Tessa to sit down and roll up her sleeve so I can take her vitals. We’ll discuss meds and hospice planning after.”

  Hospice. The word still sent chills down my spine.

  I sat down in the chair next to her, lifting one arm out of my cardigan.

  Kyle kissed the top of my head. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

  “Thanks, babe.”

  Malaika took my blood pressure, listened to my heart, and then checked my pulse and temperature. She asked me about my food and water intake, the meds I was on, and we discussed the pain and nausea meds for when the symptoms worsened.

  “I, um, saw in your chart you’ve been prescribed barbiturates, in a high dosage,” Malaika spoke slowly, as if unsure how to broach the topic. “Are you planning—”

  I cut her off with a flash of my palm, already knowing her question. “I’ll be ending my own life.”

  She glanced at me, then down at the chart. A feeling of dread swept through me that she might be against me, too. I straightened my shoulders, preparing for a fight.

  “That’s really brave,” she replied simply.

  “Oh.” Wait…what? Brave? Tell my family. “Well, thank you.”

  She went on with business as usual and my entire body relaxed. “Do you have a timeline in mind or an estimated date?” she asked.

  I shrugged one shoulder. “Sort of. I think October, after my birthday at the end of September. But it depends on how quickly my symptoms progress. I should be able to have ‘til November if the doctors are right.”