by Heidi Lewis
In the kitchen, her father was fumbling with ingredients for making pancakes for her. They had always been her favourite breakfast. The smell was irresistible and the thought of maple syrup drizzled over them was almost arousing. She took a seat at the table and gazed out of the window. A plate of pancakes, swimming in syrup, appeared in front of her.
“Thanks, Dad, I appreciate this!”
“It’s my pleasure,” he said with a wink.
In her mind, the thought of eating every last morsel of the pancakes was so appealing, but her stomach could not handle the actuality of it. Nausea kicked in and three bites later, she was done. Her father had disappeared out of sight so she used the opportunity to scrape the pancakes into the rubbish bin.
“What a waste,” she thought. The last time her father had cooked her pancakes was the morning of her 21st birthday. She was back home from college at the time and her parents loved fussing over her, clearly they had not come to terms with the empty nest syndrome.
It was hard to believe that that morning was two years ago. It seemed like only yesterday. Little did she know what was ahead of her. It had been so sudden, the onset of it all.
What had started as a persistent sore throat had turned into a living nightmare. She had been diagnosed with thyroid cancer in early summer and, what seemed like a positive prognosis became hopeless in late autumn. Today was the appointment with her consultant to get the results of her PET scan. Although she was naturally a positive thinker, she was also a realist and knew she must be prepared for the worst.
She made herself a cup of black coffee and returned to the kitchen table to gaze out of the window. It was a dull, dreary morning with frost visible on the grass and shrubs. There was not a breath of wind so it seemed like the frost had frozen time itself.
“If only,” she thought.
Her parents’ house was a timber-framed home on Noel’s hill and it overlooked eastern Charlestown. From the kitchen, she could see the traffic flowing and the hustle and bustle of the town.
“Please Lord, give me the strength and courage to get through today.”
Maria had been raised a Christian, but she rarely gave much thought to God and her faith had been on autopilot. This had changed in recent weeks and she found herself leaning more and more on the “Man above” as she prayed for a miracle.
She remembered that her grandmother had always said that God is the first person people turn to when they are in trouble, and she could not have said a truer word. She missed her grandmother immensely as it had been her first and only experience of loss - well on that immense level.
She felt her thoughts running further and further away and decided it would be best to have a shower and get dressed.
She returned to her bedroom and ran the shower in the en-suite. She left the door ajar these days in case a sudden weakness struck, a common occurrence of late. The water was warm and her cold skin glowed with the sudden increase in temperature.
From the shower, she could see a photo frame hanging above her bed. It was one of those multi-aperture photo frames, with six photographs of her nearest and dearest inserted in the black ash rim. As she stood naked in the shower, the warm water caressing her skin, she thought how lucky she was, to have a loving family and friends. The photo, which caught her attention the most, was a black and white portrait of herself with her mom and sister Kathleen, taken on Kathleen’s wedding day.
It had been taken over three years ago in the grounds of Charlestown Park. The three of them were happy and healthy, frozen in time.
No matter what happens, nothing can change the bond between us.”
Her sister lived an hour’s drive away in Mayborne village. She was a stay-at-home mom to two children. One aged two years and the other just six months old. Kathleen was married to a man called Tim. He was an accountant for a major building company which afforded her the luxury of not having to work outside of their home. Maria had never really clicked with Kathleen’s husband but she knew that he treated her sister well and that’s all that mattered.
“Hurry up, Pet, we’ve got to leave soon?” her father hollered from downstairs. The sound of his voice snapped her from her daydream, so she turned off the water and fetched her clothes.
“I’m ready Dad!” she called back as cheerfully as she could.
While still only twenty-three, Maria had always been a very independent person. She had left home at eighteen to attend music school but having a change of heart at twenty, she dropped out of music and embarked on a degree in English literature and history. She worked as a waitress part-time and loved having the freedom to come and go as she pleased. Those wild nights out on the town with her friends were a contributing factor to her decision to leave home at a young age. She had always been a bit of a party girl and enjoyed the pleasures of alcohol and dance music. Life seemed like one big party for her in those years between eighteen and twenty-two.
Her father beeped the horn outside letting her know she was late. She took two deep breaths and closed the front door. As she walked towards her father’s car, she felt him look at her in a strange way, and she could see the worry etched on his face. It reminded her that one of the worst things about her illness was how it affected those she loved. While cancer seemed to be playing havoc with her body, it was also wreaking havoc with the emotions of her nearest and dearest.
“How cruel.”
She got in, closed the car door and they reversed out of the driveway.
Her phone vibrated in her hand and it was a message from her mother.
“Don’t 4get 2 pick me up!”
She quickly typed a reply: “How could we 4get you? x”
Her mother owned a quaint ladies fashion boutique in Charlestown, which she had set up in the eighties. What had started as a small clothes stand in the local shopping mall, quickly grew to a major store in the centre of town with the addition of an online retail store. The business was thriving and Maria often wondered, if given a choice, whether her mother pick the business or the family?
Maria sometimes felt sorry for her dad because, while her mom had had so much success with the boutique, her father had gone from job to job over the years. He often used the catchphrase, “Jack of all trades but master of none” to describe himself. While she could never remember a time when her dad had not worked, she always remembered him doing tough jobs involving manual labour. Although he enjoyed construction work, Maria knew he was getting too old for that type of manual labour. On the whole, there was no real need for him to work. The house was mortgage-free and their boutique was bringing in a figure equal to two, if not three decent salaries, but she presumed he was too proud to give up work.
He had, however, taken a couple of weeks off as Maria’s illness advanced, and he told her that he was between jobs at the moment and it was just good timing.
But Maria suspected the break from work had been prearranged. While she hated being such a burden, she enjoyed the opportunity it was giving her: the opportunity to reconnect with her parents again, to spend time with them, to depend on them. She often thought what a pity that it took something so drastic to make her realize the importance of paternal bonds.
The usually short journey to her Mom’s boutique seemed endless, and her father seemed quieter than ever. Her stomach was in knots with nerves. Neither of them was in the mood for small talk and avoidance of the subject seemed to be their preferred coping mechanism.
“Christ please make today go well,” she thought to herself.
They drove down the main street of Charlestown. The traffic seemed busier than usual, presumably people had started Christmas shopping early as it was after all only five weeks away.
As they eased through the traffic, she noticed the people hurrying about the street, oblivious to her, oblivious to her situation and she felt an unexpected surge of anger.
“Why me? What did I do to deserve this? I am only twenty-three!”
She felt herself starting to panic, so she rol
led down the window and took a few deep breaths, trying to do it in a relaxed manner so as not to alarm her father. She looked ahead and saw her mother standing on the footpath outside her store. The sight of her mom had an instant calming effect, and as they pulled in, her mom slid into the back seat.
“Hi Love, How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling fine, Honey!” her father quipped.
“Not you!” she tutted, smiling.
“I’m fine, mom, honestly. I just want to get it over with you know?”
Her mother nodded and proceeded to go off on the usual rant about some unruly, horrid customer who had been in the store. Maria zoned out and her mother’s voice seemed like back-round noise.
As they made their way into the grounds of Charlestown hospital, Maria noticed the familiar sight of the manicured grounds and oak-lined walkways. As they pulled into the car park, she saw an elderly, emaciated woman puffing on a cigarette.
“Why on earth, would somebody, so ill, smoke? She could not fathom an answer.
Fortunately, they found a parking spot close to the door.
“Stop for a second please,” Maria exclaimed. “Before we go in guys, I just want to say thanks so much for everything you have done for me over these past few months. No matter what the results are today, I am still one of the luckiest girls around!”
Tears welled up in her parents’ eyes and, not wanting to draw the moment out any further.
Maria exited the car and her parents followed suit. They walked arm in arm down the oak-lined pathway to the entrance door where she glared at the sign that said “Oncology” department- she hated that word!
As they walked down the corridor, Maria felt nauseous, every step felt like she was walking through sinking sand. She felt like turning around and running back towards the door, back to her dad’s car, back to her parents’ home, back to her bed, back to her old life. Back to where she would be happy and safe.
“If only.”
Somehow they got to the waiting room and she took a seat with her mom, while her father informed the receptionist that they had arrived. The waiting room was empty, presumably because it was lunchtime.
“How on earth did it come to this, Mom?” she whispered.
With that, a familiar voice called for her- “Miss Keegan, come on in…”
Chapter Three
“This is it,” Maria thought, as they got up from their seats and entered the consultant’s room. Maria studied Dr O’Rouke’s face for clues, but it was professional, with a blank expression as usual.
“How have you been feeling, Maria? He asked.
“I’m not being rude, but can we just cut to the chase? I feel like shit! You know it! I know it! Even the walls know it!” Maria exclaimed impatiently.
“She doesn’t mean to be rude. She is just anxious,” her mother waded in.
“That’s understandable” the consultant replied.
“Well, the thing is that we got your PET scan results and I’m afraid it’s not good news. The cancer has spread and there appear to be multiple tumours, most notably in the liver and lungs. The chemotherapy has not done its job as this form of cancer is exceptionally aggressive. I am sorry.”
A sense of panic welled up from her stomach and seeped into every part of her body. The room began to spin,
“Oh my god, Oh my god. This is not happening, it can’t be!”
“Mom tell him, tell him there must be some mistake!” she sobbed.
Her mother stared blankly at Dr O’Rouke, unable to muster any word. The reality of his speech settling like an ice-cold stone in her stomach.
“How long?” asked Maria.
“It’s hard to say,” Dr O’Rouke replied.
“Give me a goddamn estimate then!” hissed Maria, stunned by the anger in her voice.
“At worst, three weeks. At best, three months,” he informed them.
“There are options for radiation and further chemo, but they will only buy time and the quality of that time may be very poor,” he added.
Maria and her mother sobbed loudly, without embarrassment, of their entirely natural reaction.
“My husband is outside in the waiting room. He should hear this from you, doctor,” her mother said.
“Of course.” He opened his office door and called softly into the waiting room, “Mr Murphy, could you join us for a moment?”
The sound of loud sobbing could be heard by everyone in the waiting room. Mr Murphy rose to his feet and strode into the room, as if ready to do battle. The sight of his distraught wife and daughter gave him the answers to the questions that were running through his head. His wife looked up at him through her tear-filled eyes and shook her head. He looked at Maria.
With her head in her hands, she was sobbing uncontrollably - too overwhelmed to look at him. He put his hand on her shoulder. Dr Dr O’Rouke ran through the clinical details with her father while she sat there, panic-stricken. Her fight or flight response had kicked in, but there was nowhere to run and nobody to fight.
An eerie silence filled the room, the initial loud sobs gave way to silence, caused by numbing shock. With no words left to say, there were only empty stares, as the news they had dreaded, became their new reality.
“Would you like to speak to one of the nurses or a family counsellor, perhaps?”
Maria heard his words, yet her brain was unable to process them. She was still trying to comprehend her now terminal diagnosis.
“Let’s just get her home,” her father said, placing his arm around her frail waist, and gently lifting her from the chair. Dr Dr O’Rouke stood and held the door open for them.
“I am so sorry, Maria; I wish it had been better news.”
Three pale, bleary-eyed bodies, walking like zombies, left the consultation room. Maria’s emotions were in overdrive; fear, anger and despair were wreaking havoc inside her head.
She made her way through the waiting room with her parents by her side. She barely noticed anything around her until her eyes were drawn to a young guy sitting in the waiting room. First, she noticed his beautiful eyes, sunk into a hollow, drawn face. Then she noticed the yellow colour of his skin, the thinning of his hair and she knew instantly, that he was sick, like her. A sinking feeling engulfed her chest. And at that very moment, their eyes met. Embarrassed, she withdrew her gaze and wiped away the tears which were streaming uncontrollably down her face.
The walk down the corridor felt endless. Pitying looks, from concerned strangers, only added to her despair.
“This is how it’s going to be from now on. People looking at me with pity, sympathising with me as if I am already dead, Oh my God, I can’t believe this is it. What about mom and dad? How are they going to cope?” Question after question after question rotated around her head.
As they entered the private space of the family car, loud weeping could be heard once again- only this time the horrendous sound was intensified by the addition of her father’s sobs. The journey home was arduous. No words were exchanged as there were no words needed. After all, what could be said? This was it, the worst news possible, there was no coming back from this, and it was irrefutable.
Chapter Four
In the waiting room, Jack and his mother grew impatient. The waiting seemed eternal. The man opposite them appeared troubled and sad. Time passed slowly and the man began to pace the length of the room. Jack wished he had the strength to pace the room himself but he simply did not. It had taken all his strength to get from the car to the oncology unit. Although at first, they had tried to exchange a few brief words, silence ensued. No-one was in the mood for small talk. The stakes were too high today. Jack examined the walls of the waiting room. There were so many posters and information leaflets giving useless advice on the same dreaded topic, cancer.
His mother was silent; so silent it was scary. Sitting there alongside her, he felt like a schoolboy again. Memories flashed through his mind like an old cinema reel. He could picture her putting his lunch box into
his bag on the first day of school. He could see her standing at the bottom of the staircase, on the night of his graduation ball, and then he remembered her dropping him off for his first day of work. The memories were vivid, yet fleeting. He wished he could go back, relive all the yesterdays he had taken for granted.
Now, that could never happen.
The man stopped pacing and stood staring into space. Appearing to be in a world of his own, he stared into nothingness and for the first few moments, he did not seem to hear the wailing. Jack looked at his mother. Nothing was said. Their eyes said it all. Fear, despair and anger engulfed Jack.
Quietly, the door to the consultant’s office opened:
“Mr Murphy, could you join us for a moment please?”
Without answering, the man marched toward the consultant as if ready to do battle. For a moment, the sound of agonising cries filled the waiting room, and then the door closed firmly. Silence- eerie, empty silence returned.
Jack’s nausea intensified. His body and mind were now a playground for worry and fear.
“Holy shit! That poor man. I wonder how bad the news is? Terrible by the sound of it. Oh god, I hope I don’t get awful news like that! Stop Jack. You won’t. Keep your thoughts positive. But it’s a real possibility. I mean, what if the cancer has been spreading? What if it is terminal? My poor mom. I wish I had been well enough to come here alone so that she wouldn’t have to go through this., Maybe I should have told everyone how I have been feeling these past few weeks? I should have told them that the pain is getting worse by the day. It’s almost intolerable now, but I have been lying and telling everyone I was feeling much better. I’m such a fool!”
The sound of the consultant’s office door opening shook him from his thoughts. Not wanting to stare, Jack gazed down at the spotless linoleum floor. As the three people walked passed him, he could not help but lift his head, and that’s when he saw her. A young woman, younger than himself, beautiful, stunningly beautiful. For an instant, their eyes met, and in any other time and place, his heart would have fluttered, but then he noticed the tears running down her face. Embarrassed, he withdrew his gaze.