Thirty minutes later and we’re all waiting for her to show up. The guys made it over about fifteen minutes ago, so the whole gang is together to show our solidarity. She won’t have to face this alone, and if anything, that’s what I hope she takes away from today.
I hear a couple of car doors shut and know it’s show time. Seconds later, the front door opens and the six of us yell, “Surprise!”
She jumps back, eyes wide and mouth open. “What is this?” She looks around before her eyes settle on me.
Walking up to her, I grab both of her hands. “This is your surprise kick cancer’s ass party.”
Her face gives nothing away as she looks up at me stoically. It sets my nerves into overload until she puts me out of my misery. A single tear rolls down her face. “Was this your idea?” she asks, her voice tight with emotion.
I nod. “I had some help too though.”
She looks around me at everyone, a tight smile stretching across her face before she loses it and starts crying into my chest.
“Shhh, it’s okay, Paige. This is a happy day. We’re going to have fun, party with our friends, and throw our middle fingers up in the air and tell cancer to fuck off.”
The last bit gets her to laugh as she pulls away and wipes her face. Leaning in close, I whisper, “If this is too much, just tell me and we can go lie in bed or something.”
She shakes her head. “No, no. You guys went to all this trouble and I think we can all use a little fun in our lives right about now.”
And it was settled. We dance, she sings horribly off key, we laugh until we can’t breathe, and eat and drink until we’re full.
Halfway through, I raise my beer and grab everyone’s attention. “I know this is out of the ordinary given the circumstances, but there’s nothing ordinary about you. I love you so much and I know you’ve got this. You’re strong, determined, and so damn stubborn.” She smiles while our friends laugh lightly. “To Paige. That poor cancer doesn’t stand a chance.”
With tears in her eyes, she stands up on her toes and gives me a kiss. I hold on tight to the one I love because in the end, life is too short for all of us. Then, I do something I haven’t done in years.
Dear God,
Please don’t take her from me.
Paige
IT’S THE MONDAY after the party Sean threw for me. At first, it seemed odd to celebrate that I had cancer, but upon second glance, I totally got it. And I think I fell for him a little more in the process. I’ve been depressed, angry, and a total mess since my diagnosis. I cry whenever I’m alone and am terrified down to my core over what’s going to happen to me. But in that instant, all of that washed away. It’s not that we were ignoring the fight that was ahead, but embracing it. It gave me renewed hope and determination to tell cancer to go to hell.
Sean drives us to my doctor’s office without saying a word. He puts up a good front, but I know he’s worried. I see it in the lines around his eyes and hear it in his silence. I want to comfort him and tell him I’m going to be okay, but the truth of the matter is I don’t know that. And I don’t have it in me to fake it right now either.
He finds a parking spot and a new set of nerves hit me. The feeling is different from when I went in to hear my diagnosis. Before, I felt nauseous, a lead ball in my stomach. Now, it’s dread, and the lead is in my legs as they refuse to move. I know I have to go through this, but that doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to it.
Twenty minutes, lots of silence, and a spinning mind later, Dr. Patel comes into the room. “Hello, Paige. How are you?”
“I’m okay all things considered.” I give him a tight smile, but I know it doesn’t hide my anxiousness.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Patel,” he says to Sean, stretching his hand out to him.
“Nice to meet you Doctor, I’m Sean, Paige’s boyfriend.” He shakes the doctor’s hand and has a seat.
“Are you okay with me discussing everything in front of Sean?” the doctor directs his question to me.
“Of course.”
“Alright, so we’re here to talk about your treatment plan, right?” Dr. Patel asks.
“Yes,” I reply.
“Perfect. We talked a little bit about radiation and chemotherapy the last time I saw you, so we’ll go into more detail now that I’ve gotten the full report back from radiology. If at any point you have questions or concerns, feel free to stop me, okay?” He waits for a response, so I nod.
The doctor explains the difference between implant and external radiation, how it’s administered, and how long each treatment is. The longer he talks, the more nervous I get. The procedures seem so invasive and scary. Then I roll my eyes at myself. This is cancer, not a bruised knee. It has to be invasive.
“What about chemo?” I ask.
“Chemotherapy can be done concurrent to radiation. The strategy would be to make radiation therapy more effective by aiding in killing the cancer cells. We’ll do this in what we call cycles. We’ll administer chemo one to four days at a time, allowing you a period of rest between each cycle.”
“How long would I need treatment for?” I ask.
“Treatment runs anywhere from four to six weeks. Given that it’s at a stage two and already in two locations, I would recommend going after it aggressively for six weeks to ensure we get it all.”
“What are the side effects?” Sean asks, startling me slightly. I glance at him and he grabs my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. I already know what the side effects are. I’ve researched it extensively and none of them are pleasant.
Nausea, vomiting, hair loss, fatigue.
The doctor repeats the list I have memorized.
“Chemotherapy also lowers your blood count and can affect your ability to fight infections. Something small can escalate very quickly, which can result in delaying treatment.”
I glance at Sean to see if he’s as overwhelmed as I am. He reminds me of a duck; calm above the water, but their feet are kicking a mile a minute. Sean’s composed on the outside, but I see the wheels in his head spinning.
“If I don’t go into remission, what do we do?” It’s the one thing on my mind. Do I get one shot at this before hope is lost?
“We’ll do the first round of treatment and send you in for scans after. If the cancer is still present, then we go to plan B, which could involve another round of radiation and chemotherapy, or surgery.”
Surgery.
What that means flashes through my mind, but is quickly shoved away. I can’t think that far ahead right now. I need to focus on what’s in front of me and take this a day at a time.
He talks about statistics and the chances of remission with each treatment. It’s a lot of information and my head starts pounding as I try to digest everything he’s said. But the thing I’m taking away from this is that I need to do radiation and chemotherapy to increase my odds, so that’s what I’ll do.
I decide on radical treatment where chemotherapy and radiation are done together. “Alright, let’s get you scheduled.” He looks at his computer for a second and says, “We’ll start you two weeks from now.”
The ride home is just as quiet as it was on the way to the doctor’s office. My first round of radiation and chemo will begin in two weeks and I’m beyond nervous thinking about it.
“I’ll have to tell work,” I say as I stare absentmindedly ahead of me. So far, I’ve avoided telling them what’s going on, but now it seems I’ll have no choice. “Hell, I don’t even have a boss right now since no one has filled in for Mr. Sanchez.”
Sean puts his hand on my knee and squeezes. “I’ll take care of it.”
I shake my head. “That’s nice of you to offer, but I want to keep us separate from my professional life.”
He’s quiet for a moment. I know it’s hard for him to sit back when he wants to step in, but he respects my boundaries and the need to do certain things on my own. “You’ll need to contact Tim Hughes, David’s boss, and notify him.”
Turning toward
Sean, my lips pull into a tight smile, thankful for the space he’s giving me. “Thank you.”
He pulls up outside Scarlett’s apartment and puts the car in park. His jaw ticks as he stares straight ahead, his eyes unfocused. Finally, he blurts out, “Move in with me.” My mouth parts to respond, but he cuts me off. “Let me take care of you, Paige, please.”
I’m touched, I really am, but there’s so little I have control over in this situation so I have to hold on to it when I can. I don’t want him to watch me struggle and be sick. It’s not how I want him to picture me. With that in mind even though my heart is telling me yes, I say, “I can’t.”
The hurt of rejection is written over his whole body. “Why will you let Scarlett take care of you but not me?”
“I love you,” I whisper in the deafening silence as I open the door, ignoring his question all together.
He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I love you too. More than anything.”
I thank him for coming with me, give him a kiss, and get out of the car. I don’t turn around and look back as he drives away for fear I’ll change my mind about going with him. If our time together is limited, then why the hell am I being so stubborn about this?
Because you could die.
And I don’t want that to be his last image of me.
Paige
TODAY MARKS DAY three of my road to remission. Since I opted to do radiation and chemo at the same time, my days have been long. I’ve completed one dose of internal radiation, which is more complicated than I could have imagined and time consuming.
Time.
It’s all I can think about as they administer the poison that’s supposed to keep me alive. When you’re looking at a shortened life span, you start thinking about how productive things are and if they’re worth it. If this saves me, it’ll be time well spent. If it doesn’t, I’ll wonder what else I could’ve been doing with what little time I have. Hanging out with friends or making a trip to see my parents.
Spending time with Sean.
I know that’s a crappy attitude to have, but I can hear this internal clock ticking down the minutes. And my fear is I’ll have regrets about what I’ve done with my life as it ticks down to zero.
Sean sits across from me as the waitress brings us our breakfast. He thought pancakes from IHOP were a must before we went in for my treatment. Meanwhile, I’m trying not to gag at all the smells assaulting me.
“Random question,” he says.
A smile pulls at my lips. “Go ahead.”
“What’s your most embarrassing moment?”
I think for a second, nothing spectacular jumping out at me. “Gosh, I don’t know. I’m not exactly graceful and do things like trip up a flight of stairs and things like that.” Then it hits me. “Oh! My senior year of high school we took a trip to Washington, D.C. for five days or something like that. To get around the city, we’d ride the metro. I had on one of those flowing peasant skirts that were popular at the time. Well, we all got off and are walking down the platform when the train takes off. There’s a rush of air and it blows my skirt up, showing my bare ass to the entire class. I wanted to die.” My face heats in mortification even after all these years.
Sean chuckles. “Were you not wearing any panties?” His voice drops seductively low, but I know he’s only teasing me.
“I was, but it was a thong.” I cover my face and shake my head. “It was awful.” I take a small bite of my pancakes and swallow it down. “Random question.” Now it’s my turn.
“Shoot,” he mutters with his mouth full.
“What’s your best memory growing up?”
He looks up at the ceiling in deep thought. “My parents did a good job making sure we had plenty of family time and took trips together and stuff. But I think the memory I got the most from was Thanksgiving when I was ten. Mom had signed all of us up to volunteer at a homeless shelter and serve the food.”
His best memory isn’t some lavish trip, fishing with his dad, or winning a big game. No, his best memory is of him helping people. He was giving even at a young age. I didn’t think it was possible, but I think I just fell for him a little more.
“Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t exactly excited about it at first, but when we got there I understood what Mom was trying to teach us. There was a little boy my age, his clothes dirty, eyes sad, and I remembered thinking how lucky I was to be on that side of the serving line. How sometimes where we’re at in life is pure chance. So we made a tradition of it until I went off to college and volunteered every Thanksgiving.”
“Do you still do it?”
He shakes his head. “I make monetary donations to help supply the food, but I haven’t been over there to serve in a long time.”
“We should go next year,” I say.
A reserved smile forms on his face as he looks at me with what can only be described as adoration. “It’s a date.”
I’m only able to eat one pancake before I feel like I could puke. Once Sean pays the bill, we get on our way to the hospital.
“You ready to finish this round of chemo?” he asks me. He’s been nothing but amazing through all of this and I could kick myself for trying to push him away. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through this without him. His positive energy is contagious and makes me truly believe I’m going to win this battle.
“Yep. Then two more days of radiation and I get a twenty day break,” I say with a smile as he drives me to my appointment.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay. Tired, but the nausea medicine they’re giving me seems to be helping.” Before I started it, there was no way I would’ve made it through breakfast without running to the bathroom.
Think positive. It’s the two words I try to repeat over and over again. I’m not always successful, but Sean told me maintaining a positive attitude would make all the difference, and I know he’s right.
“Good,” he says. “You rock out these last few days and I’ll give you a nice long massage, how’s that?”
I roll my head like I can feel his hands on my body already. He has been there for me emotionally, but our intimate relationship has been put on hold. Sex isn’t a possibility with the stent in place for my internal radiation, but even so, sex has been the last thing on my mind. Still, I miss the intimacy and closeness we have when we’re connected in that way.
“Are you thinking about my hands all over you?” he says into my ear. I didn’t even realize we had stopped or that he had moved so close to me. His close proximity sends goose bumps up and down my arms, but his ability to read me makes my heart beat faster.
“Maybe,” I reply nonchalantly.
“Maybe my ass,” he mutters with a grin before getting out of the car and helping me out.
We walk into the hospital and head for radiology. I’ll get another dose of internal radiation before starting my chemotherapy. Like the other two times, I’m only in the room alone for a few minutes before they’re wheeling me out to get dressed.
“How was it?” Sean asks. Every time I come out of that room, he looks different. It’s hard to explain, but with each dose of poison shot through my body, he looks more stressed. The circles under his eyes are more pronounced, the worry lines around them deeper. A pang of guilt hits me that I’m causing this stress to his life.
“Piece of cake.”
He leans down and gives me a kiss before leading me out of the double doors and toward another office where I’ll get my chemotherapy.
Once I’m taken back, I’m in a large room with several large chairs placed in a circle. There are three other patients. Two of them are alone, reading books they brought with them. The other person is an older man, his hair gone and body frail. A woman I assume is his wife sits beside him and holds his hand faithfully.
Sadness consumes me and the backs of my eyes sting, but not for the man. I want to cry for his wife. She’ll be the one to carry the burden of his absence. The one to feel the loneliness and heartache long
after he’s gone. The rest of her life will be spent with a void no one else can fill.
As I take a seat, I look at Sean. Sure we haven’t been together as long as I’m guessing this couple has, but can I selfishly burden him with such pain?
“Last dose for twenty days,” Sean says against my temple before kissing me. My eyes close as I absorb the comfort he provides.
I need him. It’s never been more apparent than now. He’s my rock, and I can’t lose that.
We’ve been sitting here for two hours already, but have four more to go. I let out a long yawn as I snuggle down into the recliner they have me in. “Tell me a joke.”
He looks up from the emails he was sorting through on his phone. “I think you underestimate the time and effort that is put in to the delivery of each joke I tell you. It’s hard to be this funny.”
Soft laughter leaves me. “Oh, I’ll bet you put in countless hours.”
“I do,” he says, mock offense rolling off of him. It only makes me laugh more. He looks back down at his phone and I think that’s the end of it when he says, “Why couldn’t Barbie ever get pregnant?”
“Why?” I ask, trying to hide my grin.
“Because Ken came in a different box.”
My eyes widen and my mouth falls open, hoping the other people in the room didn’t hear him. “Sean!” I slap his arm, which only makes him chuckle. “You’re disgusting.”
“Hey, on short notice I have to revert back to my old ways.” His hands go up as he shrugs. “What did Cinderella say when she got to the ball?”
“What?” I ask timidly, halfway afraid to know.
“Nothing, she just gagged a bit.”
“Oh my God! You’re awful!”
“It got you to laugh and smile.” He reaches over and holds my hand.
He’s right. It did get me to laugh, which is what I needed.
“I love you,” I say, catching him a little off guard. It’s rare I initiate declarations of affection, but that doesn’t mean I feel it any less.
“I love you too, gorgeous. Always.”
At Her Own Risk Page 13