by Jim Cangany
I bolted upright and turned off the alarm. My head was throbbing like a bass drum. Despite the lousy night's sleep and my feelings of utter worthlessness, it was time to get my act together and bring my North Star home.
By the time I got to the hospital, Dr. Furman had already approved her discharge. The nurse ran us through a practice session so we would know how to manage the four drains that had been left in her to allow post-operative fluid to be released.
Once we got home, she spent the day resting on the couch. The pain meds left her groggy enough that half the time I checked on her, she was sleeping. Miranda came to visit the following day, which gave me time to run errands without freaking out that I was leaving Annie unattended. She also helped Annie change her dressings while I was gone.
I don't know if I was angry or happy that Miranda helped Annie with her bandages. On the one hand, I was Annie's fiancé and I didn't care what she looked like. I loved her unconditionally, and some post-surgical scarring wouldn't have bothered me. On the other hand, maybe Annie wasn't ready for me to see her post-operation chest. We didn't discuss it. She didn't offer, and I didn't ask.
It seemed better for the both of us to leave it alone.
A couple of days later, I was on the patio, giving Samantha an update on Annie's condition, when she slid the patio door open. With a grimace, she sat and waited with her hands folded in her lap while I finished my call. When I signed off, she cleared her throat.
"E.J. honey, I need to change my dressings. Will you help me?" A loose thread of her shorts must have been fascinating, because she kept picking at it.
Hope you're ready for this, dude. "Sure, how can I help?" I gave her my best smile. It wasn't anywhere as great as Annie's heart-melting one, but it was as good as I could manage.
Her cheeks bloomed a pinkish shade. "You're sure? I mean, you don't have to—"
"I know I don't have to." I got up and offered her my hand. "I want to. We're in this together, right?"
She stood and took it. "Right."
Once we were in the bathroom, Annie slipped out of her T-shirt. She was covered in gauze wrapping from just below her armpits to a few inches above her belly button. She took a pair of surgical scissors and cut the tape.
She rested her hands on the top of her head while I removed her wrapping. I wanted to stop for a second to prepare myself for what I was going to see, but I kept going. I could handle this. It was nothing compared to what Annie had to be dealing with.
Her shoulders rose a little bit as the last of the wrapping fell away. Her hands went to her chest. I rested my hands on her shoulders and turned her around as gently as possible. Once she was facing me, I looked down to her chest.
It was flat, with two flame red suture lines running horizontally across her where her breasts had been. Her head was bowed. With my index finger, I lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. They were watery. I brushed my lips against hers and gave her shoulders a little squeeze.
"I look hideous."
"No you don't. You look like a woman who did what she had to do. And I love you all the more for it."
Annie didn't say anything, but her lips curled up a little while she reached for the clean gauze. Maybe we'd taken another step forward together.
I took my time re-wrapping her. I'd had plenty of experience with gauze during my racing days, but this wasn't the time to be in a rush.
With each pass, I gave her a light kiss on the head. She gave my hand a squeeze when I told her I was done.
When the wrapping was finished, I helped her strip and empty the drain lines, too. "Teamwork, baby," she said with a fist bump when we were back on the patio.
Miranda stopped by a few days later to drop off a casserole and to take a peek at Annie's stitches. I got the impression she was checking on Annie's emotional state as well. As incredible as my beloved's talents as a musician and a songwriter were, there was no denying Cassandra's history as a sex symbol. While she hadn't done any professional modeling, she'd never had any problem wearing slinky outfits, especially low cut numbers that showed off curves that were no longer there.
The day before, I'd noticed her taking a lot of time flipping through the closet. This morning I'd found a pile of her clothes—a handful dresses and a dozen or so tight fitting tops—piled in a corner of the spare bedroom.
She'd clearly needed a pick-me-up and Miranda had arrived, as if on cue. I practically shoved them onto the patio and went to fix snacks and drinks. On my way back, I stopped short of the door. Miranda had an arm around Annie, who was bent over with her head in her hands.
I left them alone while Miranda comforted Annie as doubtless only a woman could.
A bit later, I was folding laundry when my phone rang. The caller identified herself as Doctor Furman. My nerves started tingling as I ran to the patio. After a deep breath, I told Annie who was on the line.
With wide eyes, she took the phone and stepped over to the railing. I glanced at Miranda, who mouthed, "Well?" When I responded with a shrug, she took my hand in hers and gave it a squeeze.
Hand in hand, we listened to Annie's half of the conversation. There was an agonizing silence, followed by a "Yes." More silence. "I understand. Thank you, Doctor." After a lengthy pause that made me want to pull my hair out, Annie said, "So what's next?" She nodded a few times. The torture of waiting was unbearable. Finally, she wrapped up the call. "Right. I'll be in touch. I can't thank you enough. You take care."
With her back still to us, Annie let out a long breath. Taking her time, she turned toward us. She raised her head and looked directly at me, then to Miranda. After another deep breath, she broke into her heart-melting smile.
Miranda let go of my hand. "Well?"
"The pathology on the lymph nodes came back today."
"And?"
I was glad Miranda was asking the questions, because I simply couldn't do it.
"They took six out from each side. The cancer had progressed to the fourth on one side and to the third on the other, but no further. The final lymph nodes were clear."
I finally found my voice. "So what does that mean?"
Annie put my phone down and took Miranda's hand in her left and mine in her right.
"It means it's gone. I beat it." She gave my hand a tight squeeze.
"I'm cancer-free!"
Twenty
It is with great joy and much relief that I am able to announce I'm CANCER-FREE! While my road to recovery isn't quite complete, my doctors have informed me the cancer has been wiped out. I'm looking forward to being up and around in time for my new record's release just before Labor Day. Until then, stay strong and rock on!
Love ya,
Cassandra
I looked from the computer screen at Annie. She was grinning from ear to ear. "I like it. Nice work."
"Hey, I helped."
We turned our heads toward Staci. Her arms were crossed and she was tapping her foot. Her posture reminded me a little too much of my beloved North Star.
"I know you did, honey." Annie crossed the room and hugged Staci. "I also know you gave me this wonderful bandana." She patted her head and took a seat on the couch. Staci joined her.
At a glance from Annie, I nodded. She took Staci's hand in hers. "Staci, I have a question for you. What are you doing October Thirteenth?"
Staci furrowed her eyebrows. "Well, I, um, I guess I thought I was going to your wedding."
"Yes, about that. I was hoping you could help me with something a little different that day."
"Oh...well sure." Despite the smile I was certain was forced, her disappointed tone was clear as the desert sky.
"As you know, Randi's my matron of honor. E.J.s best man is his cycling friend Dave. His former boss Paul is his groomsman. So, I'm in the market for a bridesmaid. And I can't think of anybody who would be a better bridesmaid than you. Staci, will you do me the honor of being in my wedding?"
Annie's young friend's jaw dropped practically to the floor. She glanced my
way. When I nodded, she started fanning herself with both hands.
"Oh my God, oh my God. Thank you." She threw her arms around Annie, which produced an "Ow!" when Staci evidently squeezed a little too hard.
Staci pulled back, her hands over her mouth. "Oh my God, I am so sorry."
Annie sat back upright, alternating between a smile and a grimace. "Is that a yes?"
"Well, yeah, it totally is."
The wedding party now settled, Annie filled Staci in on some of our wedding plans, including the colors and the location.
"I've absolutely fallen in love with the Art Center, so we're holding it there. It's going to be a fairly small affair, with a motif to match the season. The only wildcard, other than my health of course, it what E.J.'s tux is going to look like." She crinkled her nose up at me. "Despite the fact I'm paying for the whole thing, he refuses to even show me a picture."
"I told you, Annie. Trust me on this, please. I promise you'll be pleased, but it's a surprise."
Annie huffed and worked her way off the couch. She squeezed her eyes shut and had to take her time, but those were the only signs of her discomfort.
"With that settled, let me drive you home before I need to take some pain meds." She scooped her keys off the counter. "I am so ready to get behind the wheel again."
With the ladies gone, I posted the announcement to CasandraLawrence.net and turned my attention to Annie's record promo schedule. Things were going to be a little tricky. Annie didn't want to make any public appearances until her drains were removed, which wasn't likely to happen until the end of July. That only left us a few weeks for in-person events to promote the new record and concert DVD. Normally that would have been plenty of time, but I needed to make sure I kept Annie reined in.
The last thing she needed was to get worn out. Her immune system was still compromised, and we couldn't have her getting sick. Not with the finish line within sight.
We started the promo tour with phone interviews with a few select magazines and bloggers. I'd been promoted to Executive Assistant shortly after we'd returned from California. Despite Annie's assurances that it meant a pay raise and improved connections with the media, I was pretty sure it was mostly an inside joke between Annie and Samantha.
As Cassandra Lawrence's Executive Assistant, I sat in on all of the interviews, taking notes as needed and getting Annie information when asked. She was a good sport the majority of the time, even though I sensed she got bored with fielding the same bland, recording industry questions.
The interview Annie clearly loved was one conducted by a cancer support group representative. She was animated throughout, laughing with the interviewer about things like not having to worry about whether her bra matched her tops any more. Originally scheduled to last thirty minutes, the interview went almost eighty. When the woman on the other end of the video conference apologized for taking so much of her time, she waved it away.
"Please. The pleasure's been all mine. Countless good people have helped me on my journey. If this interview helps even a single survivor, it's been totally worth it. You've got my contact information, so you'll let me know if you have any follow up questions, yes?"
Once the computer screen went dark, Annie slumped into her seat and downed some pain medication.
"You're done for today. Why don't you go get a nap?"
"Sounds good. Is tomorrow still clear?"
"Something just came up. You have an appointment tomorrow at ten."
Annie massaged her temples. "I was really looking forward to having a day when I didn't have to be on. Who it is?"
"I got the call while you were on the interview. I thought given that tomorrow's Friday, you'd want—"
"Who is it?"
"Doctor Furman. It's your appointment to get your drains taken out."
"Oh...Well, I guess I can fit that into the schedule." She leaned over and planted a long, hot kiss on my lips. "That'll most assuredly make my nap even more pleasant. Thanks, love."
Annie glided to the bedroom and closed the door. With a little spring in my own step, I changed clothes and headed out for a ride.
Getting Annie's drains removed took all of maybe a half hour. I'd barely settled into my book when she strolled out of the doctor's office, grinning ear to ear.
Once we were outside she grabbed me by the arm. "Oh my Lord, you should have seen how long those drain lines were. You know how we were afraid we'd pull them out when we were stripping them?"
"Don't think I'll ever forget." I cringed. One time, I'd lost my grip on the drain line and pulled out about three inches worth. In a blind panic, I'd dialed the doctor's office while Annie had curled into a ball until the pain subsided. In a calm tone, the nurse reassured me there was virtually no way we would pull the trains all the way out.
"Well, once the Doctor Furman snipped something and started pulling, it was like a magic trick. She kept pulling and pulling and pulling. I'd wager she pulled out a full two feet of line." She patted me on the shoulder. "No worries."
We celebrated her freedom from the drain lines by treating our friends to a Saturday night dinner. At Annie's request, I booked us a private room so we—really Annie—could dine undisturbed.
When dinner was over, waiters brought out glasses of champagne garnished with strawberries. Once everyone had a glass, Annie rose.
"I want to thank each of you for all your support these last few months. While I've got one more hurdle to cross, the finish line's in sight. So—" Annie looked to her left. "—to Samantha, thank you for your tireless efforts in keeping Cassandra Lawrence Enterprises on track, and for joining us on such short notice."
Working her way around the room, Annie thanked every person with a personal anecdote or witticism. When she got to me, she made me stand and took my hand in hers.
"While you've all been so wonderful and supportive, I absolutely could not have done this without all the things this wonderful, sweet man has done for me. I would never wish breast cancer on anybody, but I am so, so thankful I've had the most incredible caregiver by my side, my Lucky Star, my E.J."
Annie lifted her glass. "To all of you, I thank you and look forward to great days ahead. Cheers."
We mingled for a while after the toast. There was lots of laughter, mixed with a few tears of joy.
Ryan was telling Paul and me about his latest project, a seven figure estate for one of Indy's pro athletes, when there was a squeeze on my shoulder.
"Time for me to retire, Mister McCarty. Will you escort me?"
We said our goodbyes and headed home. On the way, Annie leaned her seat back and closed her eyes. Her hands were balled into fists and trembling ever so slightly.
"I'll get you a pain pill as soon as we get home."
"Thanks" She sucked in a breath. "You know what really sucks?"
Any number of things came to mind. "No, what?"
"Even when I'm fully recovered, whatever that means, I'll have to deal with pain and discomfort in my upper body. In the long term, it'll subside some, but will never go away completely."
With the old back injury, I could identify—a little. "Yeah, that does suck. I just hope that if you have to put up with the pain for the rest of your life, you have to put up with it for a long time, like fifty or sixty years."
"I do too, love. I do too."
Twenty-One
The following Monday morning, my phone rang. Annie's Navigator, Julia, was on the line.
"I thought we should touch base so I can get the ball rolling on Annie's radiation treatments."
In the euphoria of having Annie's drains removed, I'd completely forgotten about radiation. Annie's not going to like this.
"About that, Julia. Annie's asleep right now. Does she really need to go through radiation?"
"In the end, the choice is hers. Doctor Furman highly recommends it, though." Julia's tone was friendly, but I detected something there, first-hand experience maybe, that suggested it really wasn't optional.
"Okay,
it's just that Annie was pretty set on being done with treatment. And she's got a record to promote and then we're getting married, and well..."
"She doesn't want to be bothered with radiation." Julia chuckled. "I get that a lot. Here's the deal, E.J. She doesn't need to make a decision today, but she owes it to herself to have a complete course of treatment to beat the cancer. Choosing to go without radiation would be like taking antibiotics to fight an infection but only finishing two thirds of the bottle because you're feeling better. The purpose of radiation is to help lower the chance of the cancer coming back. It's like taking all of the antibiotics."
"So it's kind of like hedging our bets. There's no guarantee her cancer won't come back, but doing the radiation reduces the risk."
"Exactly." Julia took the next hour to educate me about the radiation process in general. She answered every question I had and waited without complaint while I jotted down notes. Before I let her go, I had a final question for Julia.
"What I do if she says no?"
Julia didn't hesitate. "Get her to say yes. If you love her, you won't take no for an answer. I know from experience."
I waited for Annie to get up and have a cup of coffee before I told her Julia had called. Her response when I told her the reason for the call was simple and direct.
"No."
The antibiotic analogy got me a slightly more expansive response.
"Not gonna happen."
Annie could be stubborn as the proverbial mule, but she wasn't stupid. Under normal circumstances, I could depend on the analytical part of her brain to arrive at the logical conclusion. But this wasn't a negotiation over film rights for the concert DVD.
This was personal.
I'd learned my lesson with logic and Annie's treatment. I let the matter drop, with a plan to appeal to a higher power.
Miranda.
A couple of days later, I cornered her before she and Annie went for a walk. We were on the patio while Annie was getting dressed. "I need your help. Annie won't do radiation."