Holding On

by Lisa Mills

  Nurse Jenny entered the room a few minutes later, wheeling the portable blood pressure machine in with her. She appeared to be in her mid to late twenties. Her dark brown hair swept back into a French braid, which emphasized her kind amber eyes.

  The nurses did their rounds every few hours, checking on the patients and administering medication. Jenny took Trevor’s temperature and blood pressure, then recorded them in the mobile computer the nurses used to keep patient records.

  “The doctor said she wants us to try a different anti-nausea med tonight.” She reached into her pocket, pulled out a bottle and a syringe, and measured out a dose. The needle threaded smoothly into the medicine port on his I.V. line.

  When she’d finished her duties, she turned her caregiver’s gaze on Danielle. “We have a light patient load tonight, so I can spend more time in here with Trevor. Why don’t you get a room at the hotel down the road and shower? Maybe sleep a few hours.”

  “I can’t leave him,” Danielle answered, refusing to even consider the suggestion. If Trevor was going to suffer, she would be right beside him, bearing part of the burden.

  The nurse’s gaze traveled the length of her, her expression an odd mix of stubbornness and compassion. “I understand your need to be with your son, but you look like you’re about to fall apart.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Danielle’s tone had an edge of warning, but Jenny didn’t back down.

  “That’s what they all say, Miss Jordan. I see parents pushing themselves to the edge every day. This is a stressful situation, and it’s as hard on the mother as it is on the child. You need to take care of yourself. In a week, Trevor will be discharged and sent home. You’ll be the only person there to care for him. How will you do that if you’re ready to drop from exhaustion? Is that in Trevor’s best interest?”

  It wasn’t. Danielle could see the logic in the nurse’s argument. And the truth was, she was barely able to keep her eyes open, even with a cup of strong coffee in her. And more pressing than the physical exhaustion and mental fatigue was the emotional strain of not knowing the future, not knowing if she’d celebrate another birthday or enjoy another Christmas with her baby.

  The nurse stepped closer and lowered her voice to a gentler tone. “It doesn’t make you less of a mother to leave him for a while. You shouldn’t feel guilty for allowing others to help. That’s our job and we love to do it. So while you’re here and you have our assistance, take advantage of it.”

  Danielle looked at Trevor, who appeared to be sleeping for the moment. She knew better than to hope it would last long. He’d be awakened by the vomiting again soon. “You’ll stay with him?”

  The nurse nodded. “I’ll sit right here in the room. I’ll have to leave for a few minutes here and there to help with rounds, but other than that, I’ll be by his side.”

  Danielle wavered between devotion and reason, but in the end, fatigue won the argument. That and she knew that Nurse Jenny was one of Trevor’s favorite caregivers.

  Just for a few hours, she told herself. A few hours of sleep and a real shower. She’d been washing up in the sink each day, but that wasn’t very satisfying or completely adequate. The thought of standing beneath a spray of hot water—or better yet, a long hot bath—pushed her over the edge of indecision.

  “Okay, if you’re sure you can handle it, I’ll take you up on your offer.”

  Jenny smiled, showing a soft dimple in each cheek. “See you in the morning.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Danielle drifted into semi-consciousness some hours later with a sharp pain stabbing through her neck. Seeking to alleviate the ache, she rolled from her stomach to her side, vaguely wondering where her pillow had gone. Cold air brushed across her skin and puckered her flesh. Needing warmth, she wrapped her arms around her torso and pulled her knees up, trying to tuck herself into the fetal position. Her feet felt heavy and clunky as they bumped over the edge of the mattress and grabbed at the bedspread. Nothing felt right. Confused, she pushed up on her elbow and looked around.

  Thin lines of anemic light bled through the slit in the curtains covering one wall, casting a faint glow over a television, desk, tacky carpeting and a double bed where she lay.

  The hotel.

  It all came back in a rush. She’d agreed to leave Trevor for a few hours to shower and sleep. Beyond exhaustion, she’d stepped into the hotel room, dropped her suitcase by the door, then fell across the bed sideways, too tired to pull back the covers or even remove her shoes. Sleep had claimed her in seconds.

  She rubbed her eyes, clearing away the grittiness so she could make out the numbers glowing on the digital clock. Six-thirty. She flopped onto her back and rubbed at her stiff neck. The night nurses would be going off duty soon, but she didn’t need to hurry back too quickly. Trevor would sleep another hour at least.

  With a groan, she sat up and reached for her shoelaces. She would shower first, then take advantage of the complimentary breakfast buffet. She’d skipped too many meals the last few days to pass up on free eggs and bacon. If she hurried, she could make a few calls and visit the hotel’s business center where she could use a computer to check her e-mail.

  A shower and clean, fresh clothes left her feeling like a new woman. Breakfast tasted like heaven, though she couldn’t eat a full portion. All those skipped meals or hasty snacks from the vending machine had shrunk her stomach. Come to think of it, her jeans seemed a little loose and she’d had to fasten her bra on the tightest setting to get the elastic to hug her ribs. Had she lost weight?

  Back in her room, she stood in front of the full-length mirror in her hotel room and studied her reflection. Yes, she was definitely looking a little scrawny. Her cheekbones seemed to stand out, and her arms had lost some softness. Dark smudges circled her eyes, attesting to the demanding schedule she’d been keeping. The nurse had been right to send her away. She’d needed this bit of time, to pull herself together so that she could face life’s challenges with renewed energy. Trevor relied on her, and she couldn’t afford to fail him.

  The clock in the room read eight-fifteen. She needed to head back to the hospital soon, but before she left, she needed to check her answering machine and see if she’d received any important messages. Thankfully she’d invested in one of those machines that could be accessed remotely by typing in an access code.

  She sat down at the desk and grabbed the notepad and pen provided by the hotel. She dialed home and hit the appropriate sequence of numbers when her answering machine kicked on. It switched into relay mode and offered her the option of listening to “saved” or “new” messages. She keyed in the number for new messages and the first one began to play.

  Janna had called to say hello. “I thought you might need to hear the voice of someone who loves you guys. Cory and I are thinking about you. He asks about Trevor every day.” Tears sprang to Danielle’s eyes. Janna and Cory were good friends, good people. The message went on as Janna gave an update on the baseball team’s win and assured Danielle that her house was fine. “Let us know when he feels well enough for a visit. We’ll schedule a trip. Miss you both.”

  The answering machine’s tinny voice followed. “To save this message, press four. To delete ….” Danielle saved the message, thinking Trevor might like to listen to it when he was feeling better.

  The next message was from the landlord, wondering if she’d mailed her rent check. She cringed. She hadn’t had time to pay bills before she left. The kindly retired couple from whom she’d rented the house relied on the income to supplement their retirement pension. Hopefully, Trevor would finish his first round of chemo in a few days. Once his nausea had subsided and he was feeling better, she would run home and take care of a few matters that needed tending.

  The last message blasted through the phone with the force of a hurricane.

  “Where are my brochures? I told you the trade show started on Thursday at ten. You promised my literature would be here! We are three hours into the show and I have nothing to hand o
ut to potential customers. My business is suffering due to your irresponsibility. Get those brochures here NOW!”

  The message ended as abruptly as it had begun, leaving her to deal with the sinking sensation in her gut. What could have happened? Everything was on track to meet the deadline the last she’d heard. Something must have gone terribly wrong. She found Economy Printing’s phone number in her purse and dialed. The receptionist transferred her to Dave.

  “Dave, this is Danielle Jordan. I just got a raging phone message from Mr. Hartog. What’s going on?”

  “Oh, about that,” he said, hedging. “We ran into some trouble. The press broke down, and we didn’t have the spare part we needed in the shop. Took half a day to get the part and a few more hours to make repairs. I’m sorry, but your literature didn’t get delivered until this morning.”

  Her pulse thrummed loud in her ears. Today was Friday, the second day of the show. No wonder Mr. Hartog was mad. A sense of failure assailed her. She had worked herself to the brink trying to complete that project on time, but it wasn’t enough. “I don’t think I need to tell you that this puts me in a world of trouble with the client. Wasn’t there anything you could do?”

  “Believe me, I tried. I called the other printer in town to see if they could do the job, but they already had a large print run on their press. I had our delivery guy run a box of literature over to the trade show as soon as we had the first batch printed and stapled, but that was late last night. The show was about to close.”

  Danielle lowered her face into her hand. “What am I going to do?” she moaned.

  His voice softened. “Look, I feel really bad about this. It was one of those bizarre things that happens once every few years, and we were on such a tight deadline, there was no room for error. If it helps, I could discount the printing costs, and I’ll do something extra on your next order too.”

  “Thanks,” she said tightly. The offer was generous, but it didn’t change the fact that Mr. Hartog was going to eviscerate her.

  She returned the phone to its cradle and pushed away from the desk. Mr. Hartog had his brochures by now, and there was nothing more she could do for him. She’d have to face him and try to smooth things over when she returned home, but for now, she was going to put the matter on the back burner of her mind.

  Trevor would be going for another chemo treatment in a couple hours. She needed to be there for him, physically and mentally. Everything else would wait.

  It took only a few minutes to gather her things and check out of the hotel.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dr. Shanglin moved into the lunch line beside Danielle, a mug of steaming coffee in her hands. She took a sip of her brew and scowled at the choices in the hospital cafeteria’s display case. “You’d think a hospital would work harder to make the nutritional stuff look appetizing.”

  Danielle had been trying to choose between a mushy, colorless fruit cocktail and a bowl of salad featuring wilted lettuce and dried-out carrot slivers, but neither one looked edible. “When I’m tired of vending machine food, I come down here. Then I remember why I prefer the vending machines.”

  “Well, you won’t be eating here much longer.” The doctor took another sip of coffee and nodded to the tables. “Can we talk?”

  “Sure, let me pay for this.” Danielle carried her tray to the checkout and handed over a few dollars for the milk and mystery casserole she’d selected. She joined Dr. Shanglin at a table, her heart thumping in anticipation of what the conversation might entail.

  A gentle smile graced Dr. Shanglin’s lips. “You can take him home tomorrow.”

  Danielle expelled the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Really?”

  “He’s in remission and there’s no fever, so we’ll release him. You’ll have to administer some medications and watch for signs of trouble, but I think you can handle it.”

  Tears flooded Danielle’s eyes. Remission—only a word, but one with the power to inspire hope and offer promise. And relief! Like a beacon, the news beamed into her heart, chasing back the worries and carrying light and warmth to the seed of hope she’d kept protected there during the dark, cold days of despair.

  “I’ve assigned one of the nursing staff to meet with you this afternoon for some training and instructions on Trevor’s home care. Listen carefully and ask questions. I want you to feel confident administering medications and tending his other needs after his release tomorrow. Okay?”

  Danielle nodded, too choked up for words.

  “We’ll talk about follow-up treatment tomorrow. For today, enjoy the moment. He’s made it past the first big hurdle.” The doctor tipped her mug in salute and left.

  Chapter Nine

  “Are you comfortable, honey?” Danielle knelt beside the couch in her living room and adjusted the pillows behind Trevor’s back. “Can you see the television, okay?”

  “Mo-o-om.” He dragged out the word to three whole syllables. “You already asked me that.”

  Amusement tweaked the corners of her lips. He was definitely feeling better if he had the energy to scold her for fussing. “I guess I forgot.” She planted a kiss on his bald head and returned to her desk on the other side of the room where she could work and keep an eye on him at the same time.

  Outside the living room picture window, gray clouds blanketed the sky and scattered a gentle spring rain over the yard. Danielle didn’t mind the gloomy weather. Nothing could cast a shadow on the joy shining in her heart. They’d checked out of the hospital late yesterday, eager for the familiar surroundings of home. They’d had little time to do anything except eat supper and settle in, but it had been a victorious night. Waking up in their own beds and enjoying the normalcy of a leisurely morning of breakfast and cartoons made the last few weeks seem surreal, like images from an unpleasant dream.

  Now that he was in remission, life could get back to normal. Or almost. He still had the maintenance chemo treatments and two checkups a week to monitor him closely, but from everything she’d read, they were practically a formality. He would recover. She had to believe that.

  The neighbor’s dog began to bark, drawing Danielle’s attention out the window again. A familiar minivan was turning into the driveway with a smiling redhead at the wheel. Danielle raised her hand and waved, a rush of happiness filling her at seeing Janna again. Two weeks at the cancer center, isolated from friends and familiar faces, had seemed more like years.

  Danielle hurried to the door to let Janna in before the rain soaked her.

  Janna threw an arm around Danielle’s shoulders and gave her a hearty squeeze. “I missed you guys!”

  “We missed you too.” A knot of emotion pressed against Danielle’s throat.

  Janna stepped back and handed Danielle a shoebox stuffed full of letters, postcards, flyers, and magazines. “That’s all your mail. Good thing you came home when you did. I was afraid I’d have to find a bigger box.”

  “Thanks for picking it up for me,” Danielle said, rifling through the stack. “And for taking out the trash bin.”

  “No problem. Is Trev awake?”

  “Sure. Wanna say hi? He’s on the couch.”

  Janna stepped out of her damp shoes and padded into the living room on bare feet. “Hey, Trevor. How are you?”

  To her credit, Janna didn’t flinch when she caught her first look at Trevor. During the two-week hospital stay, he’d lost his hair and a little bit of weight, giving his face more angles and hollows. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and a sickly pallor tinted his skin. Other mothers at the hospital had warned Danielle that some people might be uncomfortable with the changes.

  Trevor sat up a little straighter, eyes brightening. “Is Cory here?”

  “Sorry, it’s a school day. Maybe he can come by some afternoon and visit with you.” She glanced at Danielle. “When your mom thinks you’re up to it.”

  Danielle nodded, wondering how long that would be. The doctors had advised keeping him away from other children and sick adults un
til his immune system had time to recover and strengthen. Thankfully, Trevor didn’t push for an exact date.

  Janna sat on the corner of the coffee table and rested her elbows on her knees. “We missed you at the game this weekend.”

  “Did we win?”

  “Not this time. Could’ve used one of your famous triples.”

  Danielle smiled and went to sit at her desk, their chatter a pleasant background hum as she sorted through the mail. The first few items on the stack were flyers or leaflets, which she tossed into a box of recyclable paper beside her desk. She stacked a handful of bills in a pile by her keyboard and kept sorting. Someone from the school had mailed a card for Trevor. And a consumer-marketing group sent a package of coupons and a survey they wanted her to fill out.

  When she’d finished going through the whole stack, she had two paychecks from projects she’d finished before starting Mr. Hartog’s brochures. She retrieved a deposit slip from her checkbook and quickly filled it out. Best to get this money in the bank so that she could write checks on it. The bills wouldn’t wait long.

  She recorded the deposit in the register and noted the dismal balance. Most of the fifty-percent deposit she’d received on Mr. Hartog’s job had already been spent. Despite pinching pennies and carefully budgeting for food and lodging while Trevor was in the hospital, she’d been forced to make a few withdrawals from the ATM for her basic needs. The pile of bills loomed large, filling her with a sense of dread. She’d put off thinking about the practical things of life in order to deal with the urgent. But she couldn’t avoid the everyday issues much longer.

  “Well, I should get going.”

  Janna’s voice broke into her thoughts. Danielle looked up to find Janna on her feet, hiking her purse strap over her shoulder. “I have a casserole to deliver to a family at church who just had a baby. We’re helping out with meals until the mother is recovered.”