by Annie Jocoby
I hung up the phone and turned to Addison and Nick. “Well, Addy, we’re going to see the doctor today. So we can get the answers we need. Soon.”
Addison simply nodded her head. “I’m scared.”
I pasted on a smile. “Hey, no getting ahead of ourselves.” I took her into my arms and looked over at Nick. He was unusually quiet and standoffish, considering what was going on. But I looked into his eyes and I knew that there was a lot going on under the surface.
“Well,” I said, patting my legs. “Nick, let’s go and unpack. Maybe we can get some lunch before we take Addison to the doctor. What do you think?”
Nick just nodded his head.
We unpacked the SUV and went into our bedroom. I sat down on the bed and patted it. Nick came and sat next to me. He was quiet and pale.
“Nick, what’s on your mind?”
“Nothing. I…”
“Michelle?”
He nodded. “I’m really embarrassed that I tried to discourage you from talking to Addison before this.”
“Nick, we don’t know anything.”
“Yes we do. It’s not a good sign that the doctor is fitting us in today. And it’s not a good sign that the doctor wouldn’t talk to Addison without us.” He shook his head. “Michelle never told anybody that she was sick, either. I don’t know why, but she didn’t. She waited so long…by the time we finally saw a doctor about her bleeding, there wasn’t a damned thing that could be done.”
“Let’s not…”
“Get ahead of ourselves?” He shook his head. “I agree with that, but we need to be prepared for what that doctor might say. You know that if it was something relatively simple, like a sports strain or something like that, he would have just told her. There wouldn’t be a reason for all of these formalities.”
I felt like the tables were turned. I was the one who was trying to find the silver lining, where Nick was the one who was being the total pessimist. “Nick, this isn’t like Michelle. She had totally different symptoms than Addison.”
Nick said nothing, but just cleared his throat. “Yeah. Anyhow, let’s get to unpacking. This place is kind of a mess.”
“Since when do you care about a mess?” I was trying to tease him, but it sounded forced.
“I don’t. But…” He then sat down on the bed again and put his head in his hands. “I just need to keep my mind off of what’s about to happen, that’s all.”
I cleared my throat and sat down next to him. I put my arm around him and put my head down so that it was closer to his own, which was still in his hands. “What’s about to happen?”
He shook his head. “Our lives are about to turn upside down.”
“Don’t catastrophize.”
“Don’t psychoanalyze.” He looked at me, and his blue eyes looked completely haunted. “I know what it means when a doctor gets you in the same day that you call. It means that the news is bad. If there was something minor, that doctor probably would have just told her. You know, put some ice on it or something. You have a strain. Don’t worry. He didn’t say any of those things.”
“I know. But let’s just figure out what’s going on before…”
“Yes, let’s. Now let’s unpack and then we can take Addy out to lunch before we see the doctor.”
At 3 PM, the three of us were in Dr. Michaels’ office. He didn’t keep us waiting, but, rather, sat down right away. “Hello. I’m very glad that you could make it in on such short notice.”
“Of course.” I realize that my hands were gripping each other so tightly that they were both white.
The doctor cleared his throat. “I’m very sorry. I wish that I had good news for you. But young Addison came into the hospital early Sunday morning, complaining of a pain in her right knee. I ordered a bone scan, and unfortunately, the bone scans indicated that Addison has a tumor. It appears to be cancer from the looks of the scans.”
I felt like I was floating above the office. I wasn’t in my body anymore. Inside, I was being split in two. I tried, however, to show an outwardly calm demeanor to the doctor. I didn’t want to fall apart in front of my daughter, who was sitting next to me crying. I took Addy’s hand and squeezed it.
“I see. Are you sure that it’s not something else? Something benign?”
At that, he handed me the scans. I examined them carefully and handed them to Nick. “As you can see, the mass on her knee is irregular. The borders are ill-defined. If it was a benign mass, there would be smooth, round and well-defined borders of the mass. There is also some indication that there has been some destruction of the bones in Addison’s knee.”
I nodded my head. I saw what he was talking about – the mass on her knee did have undefined borders. Nick wasn’t looking at the scans anymore. Rather, he was staring off into space. I crinkled my eyebrows at him. It was so unusual, the way that he was reacting to all of this. I had never in my life seen him look so lost, so alone, so helpless.
“What’s next?”
“Well, I would like to order a biopsy, of course. That’s the first step. The biopsy will tell us what we’re dealing with. Although I’m reasonably sure that there’s a malignancy, the biopsy will give a definitive diagnosis. The biopsy will also give me information about the subtype of the cancer. Once we have that, we can proceed with treatment options.”
“Am I going to lose my leg?” Addison blurted out.
“That is one option,” the doctor said. “Although hopefully it won’t come to that.”
“Mom,” Addison said to me, her blue eyes looking desperate. “I can’t lose my leg.”
I just nodded my head. The last thing that I wanted to do was to make her promises that I couldn’t keep, and if I promised her that she wouldn’t lose her leg, I would be doing just that. Maybe.
“Mom,” she said. “Promise me that you won’t let them take my leg.”
“Addy…”
“Promise me.”
I looked at the doctor. He understood that he was going to have to step in to try to explain everything to Addy. “I'm very sorry, Addison, but I don’t think that your mother can promise you that. I can't promise you that either. I will say that I’ll know better how to treat your particular type of carcinoma when I get the results of the biopsy back. I will tell you that 90% of young patients do not have to face amputation. There’s also the possibility that the cancer will need to be treated with chemotherapy, radiation or a combination of the two. Hopefully the cancer will be amenable to surgery, which would obviously be the least invasive option.”
Addison was sitting to my right, getting paler and paler by the second. Nick was sitting to my left, and he, too, was looking pale.
Finally, Nick spoke. “Thank you Dr. Michaels. I appreciate your being open and honest about what we’re going to possibly face. Obviously, as parents, we’re going to go with your opinion on what treatment option is best. Of course, we’re also going to get a second opinion. With something this serious, that will go without saying.”
Dr. Michaels nodded solemnly. “I’m going to order the biopsy immediately. I should get the results back this week, and then we’ll meet back here next Monday. What would be a good time for you?”
“Uh, three o’clock would be fine.” I looked over at Nick. “I can take off work early, of course. That’s not a problem, as I’m a partner.”
“Three o’clock it is. In the meantime, here is the address where you can take Addison in for the biopsy.”
I took the card that he gave me without a word.
We exchanged pleasantries and left.
Seven
Addison
I’m too young to die. That was all that I could think about on the ride home with mom and dad. They both were so quiet. That was so weird. I wasn’t used to them not saying much. I wanted them to talk to me. To tell me that everything was going to be fine. I knew that it wasn’t, no matter what. But I wanted them to tell me what I wanted to hear.
I knew that dad was bad about bullshitting m
e. He never was good at that. Even when I was a little girl, he talked to me like I was an adult. He always used bad words around me, reasoning to mom that I was going to learn them anyhow. Whenever I had a crush on a boy, and I asked him for advice, he would tell me straight up what he thought. He was always right, too.
But mom…she was always good for bullshit when I felt like I needed it. She always tried to look on the bright side. Whenever dad told me that this boy was a player or that boy was a loser, mom would come in and try to find the good things about him. Whenever I had a problem with a friend, dad would tell it like it is, while mom would try to sugarcoat it. I was desperate for mom to tell me a pretty lie, but she didn’t.
As I sat in the back of the SUV, I wanted there to be a little bit of normalcy. “Can we go for ice cream?” I asked them. “Cold Stone?”
“Of course,” dad said. His voice sounded different in my ears. It was shaky.
He turned into the Cold Stone, and we went in. I ordered my usual – birthday cake ice cream mixed in with mixed berries and peanut butter cups. It tasted like a PBJ to me with some chocolate added in. Mom just got a plain ice cream, chocolate, while dad got chocolate mixed in with Oreo cookies and nuts.
We sat down and I dug in. “So, there’s this new boy at school, Blake. He’s been texting me a lot, and I think that he wants to go out.”
Dad raised his right eyebrow. “Oh?” Then he smiled. “Another contender for bum of the month club?”
“Well, I don’t know. I don’t think so. He seems pretty cool I guess. He’s not an honors student or anything like that, but he plays in a band.”
“A band?” My dad seemed skeptical. “I hate him already.”
I looked over at mom, who didn’t seem to be paying much attention to my talking to dad. She hadn’t touched her ice cream, either. “Mom, what do you think about that? My going out with a dude who’s in a band?”
Mom gave me a quizzical look. “What’s the problem with that? I was in band when I was a freshman. I played the flute.”
Dad started laughing. “You know, I never knew that about you. All these years, and I never knew that you played an instrument.”
She laughed as well, and I started to feel relieved. Maybe everything was going to be okay after all. “Well, I wasn’t very good at it. Cheapskate Mr. Lucas only bought me a used flute that hit a lot of bum notes, so I never really got past last chair.”
Dad put his arm around mom. “Dear, as funny as it is to find out that my girl is a musician, I think that you misunderstand Addy. She’s trying to say that this boy she likes, Blake, is in a band. Like playing on a stage, having girls throwing underpants. That kind of thing.”
Mom still looked a bit mystified. “Oh, okay.” She smiled weakly. “Well, that’s a different thing. I mean, being in band in school means that you might be a geek. But being a part of a rock band is a different thing.”
“Good stereotyping mom. Just because you’re part of the high school band doesn’t make you a geek.”
“Of course it doesn't.” She turned to my dad. “I’m so sorry, I’m having problems focusing on the conversation.”
“Mom, I know. But I need everybody to act like nothing is happening. I need that, at least for a little bit.”
Mom nodded her head, but dad had his I’m calling bullshit face. “Addy, that’s not realistic,” dad said. “We can’t act like nothing’s wrong, because there clearly is. I don’t mind talking about other things, of course, but you have to face facts. This isn’t going to be easy. Best case, you have surgery that removes all the tumor, and nothing else is needed. But you have to realize that it could be much worse than that.”
Dad had apparently sprung to life again, after being quiet all this time. I actually liked that he was talking to me like this, because this felt normal to me. I was afraid that he was going to fold like an accordion, but he didn’t let me down.
Mom, on the other hand, was still struggling to find words. “I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry, Addy, but I’m just trying to process this.”
Dad put his hand on mom’s and looked at her the way that he always did. No matter what happened, I always knew that mom and dad loved each other. They fought sometimes in front of us girls, but nothing major. He spoke to her in a low voice. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”
Mom said nothing, but just nodded her head. I could tell that she was trying to not cry.
Dad shook his head. “Mom has problems dealing with things. When the shit hits the fan, she tends to clam up. But she’s in your corner, as she always has been. And always will be.”
“Excuse me,” she said, getting up. “I need to use the restroom.”
Dad watched her leave and then he looked at her ice cream. “It’s melting.” He shrugged and dipped his spoon into the little cardboard bowl. “I don’t think that she’s going to eat this anyway.”
“Thank you, dad.”
“For what?”
“For being normal. As normal as possible. I know that I said that I wanted everyone to act like nothing’s happening, but I’ll settle for normal.”
“Then normal is what I’m going to try to give you.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “Thanks. Now, can you talk to mom about giving me normal too?”
Dad nodded. “You have to understand, your mom has had a tough life. She’s been great for years, of course, because nothing major has happened. She might have a tough time dealing with this.”
“You are too. I can see it on your face. I saw your reaction in the doctor’s office. You’re having problems with dealing with this, yet you’re able to still tease me like you always do. Why can’t mom?”
Dad shrugged. “Guess she’s not as good of an actor as I am.” At that, he looked away. I could see in his eyes that he was struggling, but he was trying so hard to hide it. It made me love him all the more.
Mom came back to the table. I looked at her, and I saw that she had been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her face didn’t have any makeup on. It looked like she went in the bathroom and not only cried her eyes out, but washed her face afterwards. She sat down, and managed a smile.
“Hey,” she said in a weak voice. “Where’s my ice cream?”
Dad laughed. “Well, it looked like you weren’t going to eat, so…”
“You just helped yourself, didn’t you?” Mom was smiling, so I knew that she wasn’t serious. “You can just get up and get me another cup. Chocolate ice cream, and mix in some M&Ms.”
Dad put his hand on his head like he was saluting, and then got up.
Mom smiled at me, but didn’t say anything. Then she opened her mouth and said a single word, then shut it again. That word sounded shaky. It sounded like she was afraid that she was going to cry if she talked to me, so she just decided not to say anything at all.
“Mom, it’s okay. I’m sorry that I asked you guys to say good words to me. I don’t need that. I just need for you and dad to try to be normal. Dad’s good at it. I’d like you to be too. Can you?”
She nodded, but I noticed her swallowing hard. She was blinking her eyes rapidly and she continued to swallow hard. I sighed. Mom wasn’t going to be able to do normal. She was apparently incapable of doing normal.
I wondered if I even knew what normal was anymore.
I got home, and I asked dad if I could talk to Chloe about what was going on. “I’d like to tell her before you guys do. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course it is. What are you going to tell her?” Dad asked. Mom still hadn’t said a single word to me, although she was talking to dad. I didn’t think anything of it, because I could tell that she felt that if she talked to me, she would just start crying. Since I didn’t want her crying, I supposed it was good that she wasn’t talking, either.
“That I have cancer. And that I hope that I have two legs this time next year, but that might not be possible.”
“Is that how you’re going to put it? In those words?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s the truth, isn’t it? That doctor seemed to say that there are all kinds of things that might happen to me. He sorta said that my losing a leg could happen. I need to be prepared for that, and so should Chloe.”
Mom was just standing there, staring at me, her hands wringing. That was something that I always noticed she did – wring her hands. I didn’t think that she even noticed that she did that. I always did, though. I always noticed that she did that whenever she and dad were in a fight. Which happened more than I would have liked throughout the years. Mom and dad were so different – I wondered how they ever got together at all.
“Addy,” she finally said. Her voice was trembling, and she bit her bottom lip. “Maybe dad and I should talk to Chloe.”
“Why? You’re just going to tell her bullshit. Are you going to go in there and tell her that I might lose my leg, and I’ll definitely lose my hair? And I’m probably going to lose my mind while I’m at it. Or are you going to tell her about the rainbows and unicorns and all the great things that will happen when I beat this thing without any kind of bad things happening? That the doctor is going to be able to just cut this thing out of my knee and I’ll be out of soccer for a few months, but then I’ll be good as new?” I had no idea why I was angry, I just knew that I suddenly was. “What are you going to say to her, mom?”
“We’re just going to tell her what’s going on, and answer any questions she might have.”
“Mom. I love you, but come on. You’re big on the psychobabble crap, and Chloe won’t be having that. She’s going to want to know what’s going on, and if you start talking the way that you always do with us, using those words you learned from your therapist…” I shook my head. “She won’t be having it.”
That was another thing about mom – she had been through years of therapy, and it showed. I knew why she had to go through therapy. She had been through a lot when she was growing up. But I always hated it when she started spouting off the psychobabble bullshit. I hated it when I listened to television shrinks, and I hated it when it came out of her mouth.