by Mandy Magro
Kirsty placed her hand over his and gently squeezed it, feeling the strength in his hands. ‘Thanks, but no. Like I’ve told you, I don’t want you missing work. And to be honest I really don’t want you to see the oncology ward. It’s not a nice place to be. Mum has to work at the old people’s home tomorrow; it’s her turn to cook meals. She said she would tell them she couldn’t do it but I insisted she go in. She’s been volunteering there for years. Aunty Kulsoom and Jo are taking me.’
Aden cleared his throat, his body stiffening slightly as he pulled his hand away from hers and quickly wiped his eyes. ‘Oh. Righto.’
Kirsty’s heart broke. Was he crying? She manoeuvred herself so she could look at him, his handsomeness accentuated by the soft glow from the fire. She tenderly cupped his face with her trembling hands, the silence between them suddenly deafening, the intensity of the moment tearing her heart to shreds. His eyes were wet with unshed tears. She ran her fingers over his chiselled features, pausing to trace the scar above his lip, a short gasp escaping her parted lips as she scrambled to find words, her heart pitter-pattering within her chest. Why couldn’t she let him in, let him take care of her? She could see she had hurt him and it cut her deeply. Taking his hand, she placed it on her heart, still unable to talk, wishing he could reach inside her and feel exactly what she felt for him. Aden went to speak but she placed her finger over his lips.
‘Aden, I love you, I love everything about you. You mean everything to me. Please don’t think otherwise. It’s just, it’s just . . .’
Now it was Kirsty’s turn to cry, the wall she had put up crumbling as her body was racked with sobs. Aden scooped her into his arms and she fell into his warm embrace, her tears flowing freely. He pushed the hair from her face so he could whisper in her ear as she nestled in closer to him, the heartfelt passion in his voice unmistakable.
‘I love you too. I love you so much it hurts. I’m not going to let you go through this on your own, K. I can’t. You have to let me help you. Please. What are you so afraid of?’
Because I’ve done something you’ll never forgive me for, Kirsty thought as she edged out of his protective embrace and reached over to the coffee table to pull a few tissues from the box. She blew her nose and wiped her eyes, although the tears were still falling. Aden reached out for her hand. She took a deep breath, knowing that she owed him some sort of explanation. She looked down at the floor, weighing up how much she should tell him. ‘I’m so afraid I might die, Aden, and I don’t want you to be with me if that happens. It’s not fair to you. You don’t deserve to be with a woman who has a death sentence hanging over her. And there’s so much you don’t know about me, Aden . . . I’ve done things I’m so ashamed of. Trust me – with my past, I’m not worthy of your love.’
Aden’s face twisted in sadness as he shook his head, staring at her. ‘How could you say such things? I don’t care about what you’ve done in your past. All I care about is right here, right now. Nothing could stop me loving you, ever. And I think it’s for me to decide if I can handle the heartache of your cancer, not you. Please don’t push me away – I want to stand by you through all of this, and celebrate with you when you beat it. And I know you will – I believe that with all my heart.’ Aden gently raised her hand to his lips, kissing it softly, leaving warmth searing through her skin.
Kirsty didn’t know what to say. This was the closest she’d come to being honest with him, and her conscience was screaming for her to tell the whole truth. But she had to get through her cancer first.
‘Okay, you can come with me to chemo the next time. I promise,’ she whispered as she reached out and pulled him close to her.
Chapter 15
10 May 2012
Dear Diary,
Today is my second bout of chemo. I wish I didn’t have to go any more, that my life didn’t have to revolve around this stupid cancer. I want to go outside and ride Cash all day long, and help Dad and Robbie with the horses and cattle, but I can’t, I’m just too exhausted – and Dad won’t let me, anyway. I tried to tell him I could handle it but he wouldn’t hear of it, telling me to go and lie down. Does he have any idea what it is like to lie down all frigging day? It’s making me feel really pissed off and I think I may be taking it out on others. I don’t mean to but I can’t help it.
I bit Aden’s head off this morning when he tried to make me eat breakfast. He looked so upset when I pushed the plate back at him, and now I feel horrible about it. He just doesn’t understand that I’m going to throw it all up again on the way back from the hospital. But then again, how can he? He’s not the one who has cancer. And Robbie couldn’t even look at me this morning, like he had to hide his emotions from me in case I got upset. Well, ignoring me upsets me even more! I feel like everyone is tiptoeing around me, and I can’t stand it. I’m stuck in this diseased body and there is nothing that I can do about it. No one understands – well, other than Aunty Kulsoom. It is so nice that she acts normal around me. I just wish I could run away from it all. It’s weird. I have never felt so alone in my life even though I have everyone around me.
I know I need to be more understanding towards Aden. I keep hearing Kulsoom’s words when she asked me to promise I would accept everyone’s love and support. At the time I didn’t know what she was talking about. Last night Aden cried in my arms, and it just about broke my heart. I’ve been so wrapped up in myself that I hadn’t even noticed Aden was suffering. I feel terrible. I love him with all my heart, but still the same old doubts keep going through my head. I wish I knew all the answers.
K xx
The hospital loomed menacingly as Kirsty, Kulsoom and Jo piled out of Jo’s ute, which Kirsty had parked in the shade of a huge weeping bottlebrush tree. Kulsoom and Jo hadn’t wanted her to drive but she had insisted. Driving made her feel free, it always had, and she at least felt well enough to drive to the hospital. It was her small way of holding on to some kind of independence. It would be a different story on the way home, when she could barely sit up for the nausea. A flock of noisy seagulls descended upon the tree’s swaying branches, the strong sea breezes causing the birds to hover slightly before coming to rest. A month ago Kirsty would never have noticed such a thing, but she was learning to slow down, to take an interest in the life that was going on about her. It was as though she was looking at life through a child’s eyes again, noticing the amazing facets of the world that surrounded her. Why did it take such a dreadful disease for her to realise how wonderful living could be?
The Cairns Esplanade was across the road from the hospital, and on such a gloriously clear and sun-soaked day Kirsty could see all the way out to Green Island. The ancient, lush green coral cay located in the Great Barrier Reef shimmered in the distance like a beautiful mirage. Kirsty and Jo had spent many a day on the island among the hoards of tourists, sunbathing and snorkelling, the marine life so colourful and unique to North Queensland waters. Kirsty took pleasure in the short distraction, imagining what it would be like to enjoy a tropical holiday right now, before turning back to the entrance of the hospital. Immediately, her pulse quickened and her senses readied themselves, her body deciding whether to fight or flee.
With immense effort she slowed her rushing thoughts and took a deep, calming breath, silently telling herself that she could do this, and that she had done it once before. Although this time it was different: it wasn’t really getting the chemotherapy that she was afraid of, it was the agonising sickness afterwards. She’d felt better in the last three days than she had since before the first treatment, and it was a cruel irony that she was about to submit herself to the whole thing again just when she felt on the mend. She knew all too well what she was in for.
Kulsoom moaned as she stretched her legs and rubbed the base of her back. ‘I’m not sure that front seat is built for three people. I reckon my butt is going to be numb for a month.’
Jo giggled. ‘It was all right for you, Kulsoom, you had the window seat. I had my legs twisted all over the place t
rying to squeeze into the middle.’ She lifted her foot off the ground and tried to wriggle her toes. ‘I think I’ve lost all circulation to my feet.’
Kirsty raised her eyebrows. ‘Why do you two ladies think I offered to drive?’ She tapped her head. ‘Not just a pretty face, hmm?’
Jo and Kulsoom looked at each other, realising they had been outsmarted, and laughter erupted between the two of them. Kirsty joined in, wishing she could relax a bit and enjoy Kulsoom and Jo’s company, but it was hard to quell the anxiety in her stomach.
Kirsty glanced at her watch, realising it was almost midday; she only had a few minutes to go before her appointment. ‘How about you two go and get yourselves some lunch down on the esplanade while I’m doing this? I think it would be much better than sitting in the waiting room.’
Jo and Kulsoom began to disagree but Kirsty shook her head. Jo bit her bottom lip and Kulsoom pretended to zip hers.
Kirsty continued, ‘I really don’t want you both to wait for me up there. I’ll feel much better knowing that you’re out and about, enjoying such a glorious day. Please. I’ll just give you a call when I’m finished.’
Kulsoom put her arm around Kirsty’s shoulders, giving her a quick loving squeeze. ‘Okay, boss, if you insist.’
‘And only if you’re one hundred per cent sure?’ Jo added as she rifled through her bag and pulled out her mobile, checking it was switched on, and then shoved it in her pocket. ‘But I’ll have you know that I don’t feel comfortable leaving you to go into the hospital on your own, Miss Bossy Boots.’
Kirsty was touched, but her friend’s willingness to do as she’d asked meant even more. ‘I’ll be fine, Jo, really.’ She turned to Kulsoom for moral support, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her right foot gently to feign a strength she was not feeling inside. ‘Won’t I, Aunty?’
Kulsoom reached out and cupped her face. ‘Yes, you will.’
Kirsty entered the hospital and cursed when she saw that the elevator doors were just about to close. She made a short dash towards them, barely jumping inside as they clamped shut. She didn’t want to wait for another – she wanted this over and done with. She excused herself a few times as she tried to squeeze in among the group of people, avoiding any eye contact in the cramped space, following elevator etiquette. She impatiently tapped her hand against her thigh as the lift stopped at every floor, leaving only a few people still in there with her by the time it reached the oncology ward. The doors slid open and the horrible sickly smell hit her once again like a slap in the face. She instantly felt like vomiting and covered her mouth as she stepped out of the lift. A strong hand squeezed her shoulder firmly and she jumped.
‘Kirsty.’ The deep, gruff voice sounded familiar. Turning around, she was surprised to see Harry Mallard standing before her, his hands resting on a wheelchair. Mary Mallard shifted uncomfortably in the seat to look up at Kirsty, her usual head of thick purple-grey curls missing, her head entirely bald. Swallowing her shock, Kirsty gripped her hammering chest, fighting hard to smile without her lips trembling. Mary had had a full head of hair when she’d seen her a month ago. It must have been a wig.
‘Hi, Harry, you scared the living daylights out of me.’ Reaching out, she placed her hand on Mary’s frail arm, feeling the bones under the skin. She’d had a hunch that something had been up with Mary the last time she’d seen her but she’d put it down to Mary’s age. Now Kirsty found herself reeling with the implications of what she was seeing. Why hadn’t she called in for a cuppa as she’d intended? To be honest, with all the stress of the cancer, she’d forgotten all about it until now. ‘Hi Mary. I, um, didn’t know that, well . . .’
A faint smile crinkled Mary’s already wrinkled face. ‘Of course you didn’t, dear. Harry and I have kept my cancer quiet. I’ve just been telling everyone my diabetes is playing up. I don’t want the whole town checking up on me all the time. I need my rest these days.’
Kirsty nodded. She had a sudden flashback to how Mary used to be at the school tuckshop – always laughing, always up for a joke. An uncomfortable silence fell between the three of them as they stood in the hospital corridor, and Kirsty wished she could evaporate into thin air. She chewed on her bottom lip, her emotions welling like a dam about to burst its banks. Mary looked like she was knocking on death’s door.
Harry broke the silence, sounding a little too cheerful for an oncology ward. ‘So, Miss Mitchell, I think you’ve got off on the wrong floor. Who are you visiting today? Did one of your friends have a baby? The maternity ward is one floor down.’
Kirsty took a sudden interest in the scuff marks on the linoleum floor, softly running her shoe over the top of them. ‘Oh, I’m not in here visiting anyone. I’m here to have my chemo. I, um, have breast cancer.’ She blurted the words out like they were poisonous. When she finally looked up, Harry locked his grey-blue eyes on hers. They were filled with compassion and understanding. She took a shaky breath, feeling a chill creep up her spine, as though a ghost had just run its icy fingers over her flesh. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She watched him as he inhaled deeply, shook his head and then rubbed his hands over his face.
Mary reached out and took her by the hand. ‘Oh, my dear, we’re so sorry to hear that. You’re so young. How many chemo sessions have you had?’
‘This will be my second. How about you, Mary?’
‘This is the last one, thank goodness. I don’t think my old body could handle any more. I’ve been here so many times that I’ve lost count. You see, this is my second bout of breast cancer.’
‘Oh Mary, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry to hear that. It’s not an easy battle and to have it twice —’ Kirsty glanced up at the wall, panicking as she spotted the clock and realised she was now ten minutes late. She lightly squeezed Mary’s hand. ‘I’m running late, but I’d love to come over and visit you one day, have that cuppa I promised. Would that be all right with you?’
Mary smiled. ‘I’d love that, dear. And Kirsty, please keep my cancer to yourself for now. Like I said, I don’t want people fussing over me.’
Kirsty forced a wobbly smile, nodding. She knew exactly what Mary meant; she felt the same herself. ‘I promise I will, Mary. And could you do the same for me?’
Mary patted Kirsty’s hand before letting it go. ‘Of course.’
Gritting her teeth, Kirsty slid the bedsheet off her shoulder and ever so slowly pulled herself up to sitting, using the tension of the sheet for leverage. She had to stop along the way, taking small shuddering breaths before continuing. The pain coursing through her body was nothing short of excruciating. Sights, sounds and smells were intensified beyond belief; virtually everything sent her into the next fit of vomiting. The bucket sat beside her, at the ready. She had given up trying to walk to the toilet to throw up; when she stood up, the bones in her feet felt as though they were breaking through her soles. The deep bone pain was so intense it was twisting her muscles agonisingly in response. When she had the strength, she would cry out in agony. At other times, lacking the energy to cry out, she would suffer in silent agony.
She closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she could do this any more. As she ran her fingers through her hair, a handful of it came free. She hung her arm limply over the side of the bed and let the clump of hair drop to the floor, along with the rest that had fallen out that day. Another sharp pain shot through her and she couldn’t help but scream; the pain was almost too much for her to bear. How much more could her body take before it packed it in?
Lynette and Kulsoom appeared at her bedside. Lynette tenderly placed her hand on Kirsty’s cheek. ‘What is it, sweetheart? What can I do to help you?’
Kirsty writhed in pain beneath the sheets. ‘Oh Mum, it hurts so much!’
Kulsoom sat on the edge of the bed. ‘You haven’t been to the toilet for four days now, love. It’s another bloody side effect of the chemo. How about your mum and I take you there and you sit for a while and give it a try?’
Lynette nodded, clearly shaken as she glanced nervously towards Kulsoom. ‘Yes, that’s a good idea.’
Kirsty’s only response was to screw her face up in pain.
Kulsoom and Lynette slowly helped Kirsty up from the bed. Then, gently placing her arms over their shoulders, the two women carried her down the hall to the toilet. Kirsty sat slumped there, her mum and Kulsoom on either side of her to hold her up. She felt utterly humiliated. Imagine if Aden was home – how would she feel about him seeing her like this?
Kulsoom tucked the last of the sheet back in underneath Kirsty as Lynette brought in a small cup filled with homemade chicken broth. She carried it on a tray along with a glass of water and some antinausea medication.
‘Thank you both for taking care of me,’ Kirsty said, wiping tears from her cheeks.
Kulsoom waved her hand in the air, insinuating that it wasn’t a big deal. ‘Pffft! Chemo does dreadful things to your body, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Just one of the many things we have to deal with.’ Kulsoom dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘I like to call it a TT.’
Kirsty scrunched her eyebrows up. ‘A TT?’
Kulsoom nodded. ‘Yep. A toxic . . . well, you know the last word.’
For the first time in hours Kirsty smiled. ‘Ahhh. Yep, I get it. Oh my God. What a fitting title, Aunty!’