EXcapades

by Kay, Debra

  Unable to steady my respiration rate, I cried out with panic in my voice. “Blake, is that you?” I could hardly speak the words from my dry, scratchy throat.

  Even in the dim light, I knew he could see how frail I had become. “Yes, my love,” he said in a voice tinged with guilt, as he opened the curtain, letting the sunlight flow into the room.

  He stared at me for a long, agonizing moment. As the bright rays poured into the room, I could see him standing over me. I was certain the light shining on me accentuated my paleness. The air was still except for the sound of our breathing—his rapid and mine shallow. No outside noise, not even a peep.

  He fumbled in his pocket for his telephone and called for paramedics. In the next instant, he took my frail body into his powerful arms and held me next to his broad chest. He stroked my hair like I was a child. At that moment, maybe I was childlike in my vulnerability. I wanted to bawl like a little girl, but I didn’t. I needed to stay strong because I knew if I let loose, I would be inconsolable.

  I murmured, “You came back.” My face pressed into his neck, distorting my weary, weak voice. The sounds I made, I hardly recognized.

  “I kept my word. I’m sorry I was away for so long. I won’t leave again,” he said.

  Seconds turned into minutes that he held me. He sighed as if months of anguish surged out of him. “My heart melted the instant I touched you. I’m here for you,” he said.

  He held my head up like a baby. Blake stared into my eyes, but I could barely keep them open long enough to return his gaze. My body was failing quickly. I felt so weak and floppy, like a wet noodle. And when I looked at him, I hoped my eyes had a hint of brightness.

  He sighed. “What can I do for you, my love?” He fell silent, waiting for my reply.

  I whispered in Blake’s ear. “Thank you for loving me.” I knew my once-rosy cheeks were gone. My face looked gaunt—my beauty, but a memory. However, I was still me, even in the body of a stranger.

  I forced myself to look at him through my swollen eyelids and winced from the stabbing pain. But for some strange reason, the pain reminded me I was still alive; even if in agony, I was alive. With the last bit of my strength, I squeezed enough air from my lungs to mumble, “I love you.”

  Blake stroked my cheek. “I love you . . . always.”

  My brain was not working any better than my body. My mind felt creaky and confused. When we made eye contact one last time, I mouthed the word, “Blake.”

  I turned slightly and gave him a confused look, before closing my eyes. Had I actually enjoyed his touch again? Were these thoughts, figments of my imagination, perhaps, nighttime dreams leaking into daytime reality? Were they illusions formed in my altered physical and mental state? I felt like I was underwater and couldn’t tell which way was up, but I felt peaceful, floating perhaps. In my delirium, I suddenly found myself wishing to be an unborn baby waiting to see the world.

  But most of all, I just wanted to sleep, to close my eyes and slip into a state of oblivion so I could escape the pain. I felt so tired. My breathing became shallow, paltry puffs of air. Slower. Slow.

  Blake sat with an intense stare at the window. He cradled me in his arms. “Where’s that ambulance?” he whispered.

  I was trying my best to stay conscious and aware, but the pain was shutting down my body and jumbling my thoughts. To deal with the excruciating pain, I became numb to everything. Every sensation slipped away. I felt invisible. Peaceful.

  I exhaled and fell limp in his arms. At the same time, he laid his head down on my chest and cried out loud. “Don’t give up.” My breathing rate remained weak, almost nonexistent. “No, don’t leave again, Lila,” he shouted. Without releasing his grip from my body, he reached beside my pillow for an envelope with his name on it. He pulled out the slip of paper and began reading out loud:

  Dearest Blake,

  The time we have spent together has been the time of my life! I loved you when you were a boy, and I can’t even express with words how much I love the man you have become. And the word love does not even seem powerful enough to express how I truly feel. Maybe infinite love better exemplifies the true spirit of our bond.

  Your inspirational words brought me strength in these final months. Your love has filled me with warmth. And your intimate touch gave me the greatest pleasure. I have been the luckiest woman to enjoy you in my life, twice. Oh, if only we could bind together the missing pieces of time when we were apart. I will not cry over our lost days. They just helped me realize how precious and special every instant is that we do share.

  I will always be grateful. You are a part of me. I am so sad to say a final good-bye, and for our journey to end. Your love was the best feeling I ever had.

  Lila

  He whispered in my ear, “Love the ones you treasure with everything you have because really, they are happiness. Nothing else really matters in this world but friendship and love.”

  I felt his lips touch my forehead. “Lila.” While he held and rocked me, I felt wetness drip on my cheek.

  Simultaneously, the wail of sirens cut through the still air, and everything seemed to happen in a blur. The medics rushed into the room with armfuls of supplies. They went to work quickly, pumping air into my body, covering my mouth with some kind of mask and tubes. I gasped for air. I heard a man’s voice shouting. “Breathe deep. Focus on inhaling and exhaling.” Were they trying to keep me conscious? Was this all a dream? Am I the center of this drama?

  Lifting the outside corner of my right eye, there was Blake pacing in what looked like a frenzied panic, watching the medics in action. This experience felt almost surreal, like I was floating above watching the scene play out, wondering if my body would spring back to life.

  Meanwhile, Blake stood with his hand on his throat while the paramedics hoisted me onto the stretcher. I saw his eyes gravitate to a framed photo on the nightstand of the two of us, young, smiling in the bright sunlight. He reached for the frame, pulled it to his chest, and hugged it tightly. Blake appeared lost in thought as his gaze fixed on the photo, and then he looked at me. Clenching the photo in one hand, he flicked the lights off and followed the stretcher out of the bedroom.

  The ambulance rushed me to the hospital, where they pumped fluids into my dehydrated body. My skin had become saggy and thin, like I had been crawling through a hot desert for days. I was placed in intensive care, where I continued to fight for my life. A feeding tube pumped in extra vital nutrients. The rehydration proved successful.

  Day after day, Blake sat by my side, holding my hand while I clung to life. When Jenny could break free from her busy class schedule, she, too, comforted me. At the same time, she got acquainted with Blake. Other friends passed in and out. Of course, my mother called daily.

  Jane, too, stopped by frequently with looks of sorrow and guilt because she did not realize my rapid decline. No one had—toward the end I had successfully sequestered myself from everyday life.

  In my dreamy state, I could see Blake next to me, holding me, wrapping me in loving warmth. I knew he was there, not just in body, but in spirit. He stayed by my side, like a German shepherd—always protective. Day after day, my fight continued, and miraculously, I grew stronger. And the medication helped manage my pain.

  In hindsight, I felt like my body and my mind were trying to alert me about my sickness for months. Warning bells had been ringing, but I kept ignoring all of the unusual signals my body sent. And I avoided my doctor for weeks, out of fear of hearing bad news. By the time the cancer was detected, it had already spread. As a result, the disease had become fully entrenched in my body.

  Perhaps my own behavior contributed to this near shutdown. I did not eat right or get enough rest. I even stopped drinking liquids when I was thirsty. I felt that tired. And I almost lost this battle completely—prematurely.

  My biggest mistake could have been avoided. I hid my struggles from the people closest to me because I didn’t want to burden anyone. Actually, we all need help som
etimes, I guess. I am grateful that Blake intervened during my time of need.

  My road to full strength would be a challenging one. The chemotherapy had taken a toll on my body and my mind. Thankfully, the amazing team of doctors and nurses helped get my downward spiral under control.

  Here at the hospital, the doctors told me, I was very lucky. Much to their surprise, the chemotherapy reduced the cancer impinging on my major blood vessels. The smaller tumor that remained in my pancreas could be removed with surgery. The doctors did not really have the words from science to describe what was happening to me—they were baffled. They referred to it as an amazing phenomenon.

  The morning after my surgery, Dr. Young poked his head into my room. “How is my miracle patient?” he asked.

  I managed a limp smile. “I’m feeling better by the minute, which is good because I don’t want to be on the sidelines anymore. I want to be right back in the game,” I said in a soft, weak voice.

  “I’m elated to hear you’re feeling better. I will be back to see you in an hour for a complete checkup. We can discuss how long I want you to stay here and work out a plan to get you back home.”

  Just as the doctor stepped away, Blake walked into my room, carrying a red rose. “You’re a wondrous sight,” he said. I could hear the joy in his voice. He sat on the edge of the bed and hugged me until I pulled away. I could feel his positive, healing energy flowing into my body. I was starting to feel like me again.

  I motioned for him to sit back and share my pillows. After he propped up his feet on my bed, he turned and looked at me. I tried not to be concerned about my disheveled hair and tear-streaked cheeks. “These are tears of happiness,” I said, wiping my eyes and the wetness that streamed down my face.

  For a few minutes, we engaged in light conversation before I changed the mood with my apology. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about how dire my condition had become. Maybe I didn’t realize it myself until it was careening out of control. I didn’t want you to worry; plus, you had an important job to focus on.”

  “You fooled me and everyone else. Don’t do something like that again,” he said.

  “Thank you for getting me medical care when I needed it so desperately. I’m forever grateful.”

  “I’m just sorry I couldn’t be there for you earlier.”

  “I never wanted to bother you with my illness. You have enough going on with your father’s Alzheimer’s disease and your career.”

  “Let that be my choice. I want to help as much as I can. Maybe I couldn’t get to you in time to help, but I could have called someone. And I would have, if you had told me.”

  “I’ll remember that in the future.”

  “You successfully tricked everyone close to you into believing that you were okay. We now know that you weren’t. Being strong is one thing, but sometimes we all need a friend,” he said.

  “I made a mistake. I should have asked for help. I just didn’t want sadness or to carve out time for tearful good-byes. I had this urge to live life to the fullest. And I still do, until, well, I lose my battle.”

  “I’m ready to take us on our next adventure.”

  I smiled. “Wonderful. I hope my fight is over. Maybe I’m as good as new. Time will tell. But for now I’ll rejoice in this milestone victory. Did you hear? The surgery was a success,” I said in triumph. “They were able to remove the tumor without causing irreparable damage to my body and believe I should be strong again pretty soon. Hopefully, I’m cancer-free. The doctors think I’ll be healthy enough to go home in a week or two.”

  And when it was time to go home, Blake was there to make my homecoming a joyous event. I looked up at him in the bright sunlight when he carried me tenderly in his arms into the house, like he was carrying his new bride across the threshold. The yellow rays from the light gave him a sun-kissed glow—almost as if he had on a halo—and made him look like an angel.

  He kissed my cheek. At the same time, we could hear the sound of the birds chirping in unison as if welcoming my arrival. Spring was here. And like the flowers growing in my garden, I felt my body coming back to life. I didn’t know if I ever would be quite the same person I was before, but I felt grateful to have a second chance. I would not waste a moment of this gift dwelling on the negative. Indeed, I had been skeptical of the power of positive energy, but now I was a believer.

  He whispered softly, “You have my heart, my whole heart.”

  “What, no more, Mr. Iceman?” I giggled.

  “No, Frosty has melted again, thank you.”

  “Thank you for helping me,” I said.

  “It was not me; it was you. And we need to give modern medicine credit, as well,” he said.

  I sighed. “I feel like I was dragged to the edge and looked down into the abyss but was lucky enough to escape the fall. Blake, you are the one who pulled me back to safety.” My voice cracked. “I’m so lucky to get a second chance to be with you. I’m grateful for you, for cheering me on and saying you believed in me, even when I stopped believing in myself.”

  “I thought I lost you this time,” he whispered. “You mean everything to me.” We shared grins that promised a future of happiness together.

  “We found each other again.”

  A smile lit his face. “I’ll always find a way back to you.”

  Without another word, we exchanged a look that said, love you . . . always. He hugged me tenderly and gently helped me to the leather couch. I had a sudden burst of energy. “Come here, handsome,” I said in a silken voice and winked. Blake smiled at me with his entire face.

  “But first, I have something to share with you,” I said. I took the pink list from my pocket and read out loud, “Number three on my list, Tropical Escape.” He was bringing my fantasies to life, whether he realized it or not.