A Part Of Me:

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A Part Of Me: Page 14

by Karin Aharon


  I texted Jonathan to call me back and then called Michael.

  “The cancer is back. That’s it. It’s over.”

  “I’m sorry…” Michael said softly and the typing in the background stopped.

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Just be there for her.” He understood what I said, despite the tears.

  “I knew there was a chance it would come back, but why so soon?” I saw Jonathan had sent me a text. He wrote that he knew and would talk to me later.

  “Maybe there’s some treatment?” Michael said hesitantly.

  “I don’t know. We’ll see what they say at the hospital. But I don’t think so.” Adam yelled and then Ariel joined him. “I have to go, we’ll talk in the evening.”

  “OK, hang in there.”

  “Come back as soon as possible, OK?”

  “I’ll try, but I really have to finish this and I…” I couldn’t let him finish his sentence because I heard a loud bang and then silence. I threw the phone, opened the door and ran downstairs.

  It took Ariel a few seconds to realize she fell, and she screamed so loud that my ears rung. It was the first time she tried jumping off the dining table. Sadly, it wasn’t the last. It’s a shame I still hadn’t found the iodine.

  Chapter 40

  The next day, I told Jonathan over the phone that the hospital had suggested administrating the chemotherapy directly into mom’s spine. They were starting immediately.

  Our conversations were concise, just as with Gabi, but usually much funnier. I loved his sense of humor. Last week, he got the results from his genetic test. He wasn’t a carrier of that shitty gene. I was happy for him, but was also boiled with anger. I was furious about how unlucky I was, at my screwed-up genetics, about not being able to spare my children from this gene.

  When I left the parking lot, I stopped at a café and got mom some freshly-pressed orange juice. It was shocking that by simply crossing the road from the mall to the hospital, you would step into a different world. The smells change, and so do the sounds. The smiles also disappear once you cross that road.

  I went up to the Neuro Surgical Ward and met Gabi in the hallway. He seemed worried and tired, but to me he would always be the handsome man I had met as a little girl. He was a standing army soldier when he came into our lives, and always wore his white air-force uniform. I thought he was the most handsome man in the world. He was a tall man (at least in the eyes of a 4-year-old), his hair combed to the side, one green eye one blue. Something of that first impression would always stay with me, I guess. Even the years that had passed and his little potbelly, didn’t make him any less handsome.

  “Thank you for coming. I just really have to go to that meeting,” he gently patted me on the shoulder. He wasn’t a hugger.

  “Of course, call me anytime you need. Alice knows what’s going on and doesn’t mind me working from home.”

  We walked into the room, I hugged mom and sat next to her, as close as I could.

  “Cathy, I’m going,” Gabi kissed her and left.

  “We’ll talk,” I said, but he didn’t turn to me, just raised his hand so I would know he heard me.

  “I’m really afraid of the chemo,” mom said, and I held her hand. “They inject it into the spine. Like Epidural.”

  “Can’t they do it differently?” I hated needles.

  “They could operate and place a tube in my head. But I preferred doing it without the tube.” She smiled, but she was obviously trying to comfort herself, not me.

  “I’m sure they’re very experienced. Don’t worry.”

  We talked some more about the kids and how smart they are, until the doctor walked in with a small group behind him.

  “This is my daughter, doctor,” mom introduced me, and I stood up and smiled.

  “OK, Cathy, we’re about to start your first chemotherapy session, by injecting into the epidural space. Please turn on your side and fold your knees up.” My presence didn’t seem to bother Dr. Bloom. As if I wasn’t there. Mom slowly turned over and I moved to the other side of the bed so I could stand in front of her. I held her hand and she squeezed it tightly.

  “Take a deep breath, it’ll soon be over,” I leaned over and whispered in her ear.

  I’m cleaning the area and we’ll soon start the treatment.” Dr. Bloom went on to instruct the other doctors what he needed them to prepare. The nurse kept walking around the room bringing one thing and then another. Mom looked up at me with a scared gaze and I kept holding her hand. I smiled at her and tried looking calm. Everybody recommended him and I really hoped he was as professional as he was unpleasant.

  “OK Cathy, we’ll first take a sample for a pathology test and then we’ll start the injections. You might feel a bit of pressure.”

  Mom sighed and her expression was agonizing. The process was rather short and when it was over, the doctor removed his gloves and placed all his tools on a tray that the nurse took away.

  “I need to give her a prescription. Can you please come with me?” the doctor said to me and then left the room without waiting for an answer.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said to mom and grabbed my purse. I found the doctor signing something at the nurses’ desk and stood next to him.

  “Let’s take the elevator,” he said, still not looking at me. I followed him to the staff elevators that weren’t as nice as the regular ones. Orderlies were walking around with different patients, and it felt as if I had stepped into the hospital’s backstage. I followed him in silence.

  “We don’t really know how to treat this type of cancer. Sadly, the prognosis isn’t good. I told your dad too,” he spoke to me, but kept looking at the elevator electronic screen.

  “I know. I’ve done some reading. Which is why I intend to have an oophorectomy first chance I get.”

  “Do you have children?”

  “Yes. Three.”

  “Good.” The elevator stopped and he stepped out quickly.

  I tried memorizing the way back since I could barely keep up as I followed him through the hallways. It was like a maze. We walked into a small room and he scribbled some unreadable words on a small piece of paper and then stamped it. I waited in silence, thanked him and then left. I went back to mom, who in the meantime had sat up in bed and drank water. She smiled when she saw me walking in and wanted me to sit next to her.

  “The doctor said there’s a chance it’ll help, but I don’t think I’ll beat it this time.”

  “Don’t say that, of course you will. You’ve already beat it twice and you’ll do it again. This cancer’s got nothing on you. Come, can we go now?” I was such a terrible liar and I knew the best way to avoid this conversation was by changing the subject.

  “I think so. Maybe you should tell Gabi that we finished?” Mom placed her cup on the small side table and took the blanket off.

  “Call him from the road. I’ll take you back home. I just want to get out of here.”

  I helped mom stand up, and five minutes later we were already in the elevator on our way to the mall. We walked from shop to shop and looked at different shoes and clothes. I felt like any other woman, just spending an afternoon at the mall with her mom; in the middle of the week, for no reason whatsoever. We tried on some shoes. Even when I wore heels, I wasn’t as tall as her.

  “They look great on you,” mom stood behind me and hugged me. For a second, I forgot the cancer and felt like a little girl whose mother was buying her shoes.

  I dropped mom off at home and went to pick up the kids. On my way home, I called Gabi.

  Recently we spoke on a daily basis. It wasn’t something we did before the cancer. Sometimes our conversations were concise and to the point, about mom and her treatments and about what the doctors said. But sometimes we would have long conversations about different subjects. Gabi would tell me about his f
ears, his thoughts, about what mom tells him when they’re alone. These conversations were rare and I cherished each one of them.

  “Hey, I dropped mom off at home and now I’m on my way home.”

  “Thanks, how was the session?”

  “Pretty quick, but she was in a lot of pain. I hope it helps.”

  “It’s hard to tell. There’s nothing much they can do now.” Gabi spoke quietly.

  “Yes, Dr. Bloom told me. We spoke in private, and he told me the prognosis is not good. Did he say anything to you?”

  “Yes. I didn’t know whether I should tell you, but he said they don’t really know how to treat this type of cancer.”

  “Did he tell you how long we have left?” I was afraid to ask but I needed to know. I had to wait a few seconds for Gabi to reply.

  “A few months. But don’t tell mom anything. She didn’t ask, so I don’t think she wants to know.”

  I didn’t know what to say. The stinging pain in my heart turned into actual physical pain. I assumed this was our last battle against the cancer, but I didn’t think it would be this short.

  “Ok, I have to go. We’ll talk.” Gabi broke the silence.

  “Ok, bye.” The tears poured down my cheeks as I tried to drive home safely. I tried imagining the first day without her, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t comprehend how this could happen. How could I ever go on without her? How could the world go on without her?

  When I parked the car in front of Romy’s nanny, I blew my nose so many times that I looked like a beaten-up clown; red nose and puffy eyes. I took a few deep breaths and stepped outside. Life went on.

  Chapter 41

  When I came into the office the next day, Anna enthusiastically told me that the office lunch was going to be at a really fancy restaurant.

  “I’m really not in the mood for this lunch thing.” I put my purse on the desk and flopped into my chair. I moved aside the pile of papers Alice had left on my desk during the night and fell onto the table with despair.

  “It’ll be fun. You should know we don’t celebrate every year, but this was a good one. New shoes?” Anna almost hovered with excitement.

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. The whole thing with my mom, her doctor said there’s nothing much they can do.”

  “I can’t believe it.” Anna sat down and her enthusiasm deflated like a popped balloon.

  “Yes, it’s very sad. I was with her during chemo yesterday and it was terrible.”

  “Shirley, I’m so sorry.”

  “Thank you.”

  My phone rang and I started digging through my purse. I was surprised to see Nathan’s name on the screen.

  “What does he want?” I mumbled to myself.

  Anna kept sitting in front of me with a sad expression. “Who is it?” she asked. I showed her the screen and she scrunched her face with repulsion. She probably remembered everything I told her about him.

  “Hey, how are you Nathan?” I asked in an energetically confident tone, which was completely opposite of what I was really feeling that moment.

  “Everything’s superb, how about you?”

  “Everything’s fine. Is there anything I can help you with?” Sometimes he would call to ask where was this or that file, or ask me to remind him what we did on some case.

  “Actually, no. I called to update you about the ALUT case. We just got the verdict and I wanted to tell you that we won.”

  “That’s great, I’m so happy,” I said enthusiastically and actually meant it this time.

  “Yes, the good guys won again. I thought you might want to know.”

  “Thank you for calling. Really, I’m so glad. Give Joel my best of wishes.”

  “Sure, is everything fine with you? Michael? The kids?”

  “Yes, they’re all great.”

  “Good, have a happy new year.”

  “You too.”

  It was one of the nicest conversations we have ever had, especially since I left his office. The good news made me smile again.

  I came home a little late. Natalie, who by now had already bought a small car, picked everyone up and waited for me at home.

  Romy practically jumped into my arms and rested her head on me.

  “Rough day at daycare,” Natalie gestured with her head at Adam’s direction, he was busy playing with his play mobile. “ The teacher asked that you call her today.”

  “OK, do you know what happened?”

  “He didn’t say anything, and when I asked him about his day, he said just it was ‘OK’.” Natalie collected her things. “Do you need me on Friday evening?”

  “No, I don’t think we’ll go out. Thank you, honey.”

  Natalie left and I wondered if I would ever find the time to call Jonathan. He tried calling me earlier and I didn’t answer. In truth, I was avoiding talking to him. I promised to tell him everything about mom. I wasn’t so sure it would do him any good knowing what Dr. Bloom told me yesterday. I wasn’t going to tell Tommy, that’s for sure. He started working at a camera store, and wasn’t at all interested in what was going on; as if he chose to shut his eyes to it. But Jonathan was more mature and I made a promise to him. I knew I had to keep this promise. No matter what.

  I played the Mamma Mia movie for the kids. They didn’t understand the plot, but they liked the songs and the dance moves. They imitated the dancers; it was hilarious. Romy sat on the floor and clapped while Ariel danced on the sofa. Adam wore a pirate costume and tried imitating Ariel.

  Mom took me to see that movie a few months ago, when she was still feeling well. We went together one evening and Michael stayed at home with the kids

  “It’s a sweet movie. It’s just been running for a while,” mom tried explaining why the movie theater was empty. It was just us and about 5 other people, all of which were elderly.

  “It’s OK, mom. I like their songs.”

  The movie really was nice and amusing. “Look at Meryl Streep, she moves so well for her age,” mom whispered. “I wish we all could.” I had to agree with her. Meryl Streep really did look very good for her age. In fact, she looked good even regardless of her age.

  After a few days, she smilingly gave me the DVD of the movie, and the kids loved watching it over and over. They called it “Cathy’s movie.”

  I used this relatively quiet moment when they were busy, and nervously called the teacher. Adam was running around the coffee table and laughed his cute laugh as Ariel followed. It didn’t look like he had a rough day.

  “Good evening,” Rose the teacher said with a stern tone.

  “Good evening, Rose. This is Shirley, Adam’s mom. I was told that you asked me to call you.”

  “Right. I’m happy that you called, because I don’t get to see you in daycare.” Unlike Tammy, who every now and then would still be there when I came over, Rose almost never saw me.

  “Yes,” I was overwhelmed with familiar feelings of guilt. Not every mom has the privilege of having a short workday.

  “I just wanted to let you know that today was a difficult day for Adam. He wouldn’t sit with all the other kids at circle time. And during music class he wanted to sit in the kitchen.” She spoke in a didactically tiring tone.

  “OK,” I also would have probably run to the kitchen, if I were expected to sit in a room with thirty-three children playing with flutes.

  “I just wanted to make sure that you are aware of these issues and that they are being taken care of.” Adam and Ariel jumped together off the sofa when everyone in the movie jumped into the water. That part always made me laugh, but I couldn’t laugh while Rose was on the line.

  “OK, thank you.” I hoped the conversation was over.

  There were a few moments of silence, but Rose wouldn’t let it go. “So, are they being taken care of?�
��

  “Look, I think he’s just nervous about my mom’s situation.” I pulled out the cancer card. “She’s been fighting ovarian cancer and she’s not doing so well. He might be responding to that. We’re having a tough time as a family and Adam is really close to her.”

  “Oh, I had no idea. I’m really sorry to hear about your mother.”

  “Thank you.” Adam and Ariel were lying on the floor and waving their arms. I had to stop myself from laughing again.

  “That might be the reason, but if this keeps happening you should probably get a professional opinion.” Rose kept insisting.

  “Of course, thank you.”

  “Thank you for telling me. All the best to your mother. Good night.”

  “Good night,” I hung up and looked at Adam. He seemed just fine. He didn’t like this daycare from the very beginning. He kept saying that his teacher, Rose, didn’t like him. I hoped that all parties involved would survive these last few months before Adam started school.

  It was dinner time. I took out the eggs from the fridge and tried thinking how I could change dinner up. One day the kids would say that omelets and cheerios with milk reminded them of their childhood home. I chose the easier option and made eggs sunny side up.

  While the kids were eating, I tried gently poking around. “How was daycare today, Adam?”

  “Fine.” Adam kept dipping his bread in the egg but didn’t actually eat anything.

  “Good. Why didn’t you sit with all the kids at circle time?”

  Adam kept playing with his food as if he hadn’t heard me.

  “Adam? Why didn’t you sit with all the kids at circle time?”

  “Because it was too crowded.” He took a bite from the bread and then handed me his leftovers, “it’s too runny. I don’t want it.”

  “So next time don’t dip it so many times in the egg.”

  Ariel had just finished eating and went to finish watching the movie in the living room. Adam ran after her while yelling at her to wait for him. Romy was in her high chair, so all she could do was throw her plate to the floor. Yet another successful dinner completed.

 

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