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Rain Page 6

by Cote, Christie


  I took my bag and closed my bedroom door behind me. I had the urge to run back inside and hide under the covers, but I knew I couldn’t hide from this. It was in my body, not a monster in the closet. No matter where I was or how long I kept my eyes shut, it would still be there, killing me until I got treatment to kill it first.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  We arrived at the hospital a few minutes before eight. My parents checked me in, and I sat down in the waiting room, nervously playing with a pink strand of hair. Sometimes I forgot that I had pink in my hair until I saw it, and each time it made me smile and think of Kyle.

  It wasn’t long before Dr. Arenstam came out to get me with another woman by her side. She was a slender woman with shoulder-length blond hair and a kind face. Dr. Arenstam smiled warmly at me and introduced her as Nurse Michele. I shook her hand anxiously and did my best to give them both a smile, even though I was too nervous and terrified to form a very good one. They led me into the children’s cancer wing and into a small single-person room. I wasn’t expecting this; I thought I would have to room with someone else. It was a relief to be by myself.

  I set my bag down by the bed before I retrieved a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. I didn’t have to wear a hospital gown all of the time since I would be a permanent resident for a while. I would only have to wear one when I had physical exams and such. I slipped into the bathroom and changed, wanting to be comfortable while preparing to face the start of what would be my new life.

  I dressed and looked at myself in the mirror. I had shadows under my eyes from the lack of sleep. I looked grim and couldn’t bring myself to smile. My cheeks looked flushed, and the few freckles that spanned my cheeks stood out more than normal, especially since I didn't have my usual makeup on to cover them up. My blue eyes shone with the tears that wanted to spill. If only Kyle were here to make me laugh now.

  I felt like I was taking myself in for the last time. This might be the last time I want to look in a mirror, knowing that once the side effects of the treatment took hold I would no longer look the same; I would be a mess. More water pooled in my eyes, and I watched as a tear seeped out and ran down my face as I pictured myself losing my hair along with how sick I would probably look.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to rid myself of the image along with holding back the remaining water that wanted to break free as much as I wanted to break free of this room, this hospital. I already felt trapped from not knowing when I would get to leave again.

  Opening my eyes before I started to hyperventilate, I wiped my face and left the bathroom to face my fears, knowing I was just going to drive myself crazy and possibly jump out the window if I kept letting my mind run wild. The doctor and nurse were standing near the door waiting for me patiently, and my parents we sitting on the small couch in front of the two windows with their hands clasped together. I hadn’t even noticed the couch before, only that it was a private room. Guess I needed to pay more attention to my surroundings.

  “Let’s get this over with. Bring on the poison,” I said dryly as I sat on the bed. Mom winced at my words, but I held on to the façade I’d instantly planted on my face when I’d walked out of the bathroom. Dr. Arenstam remained unfazed by my comment.

  “Okay. The chemotherapy will be administered through an IV. Since you are staying in the hospital, you can receive it in your room,” she told me as I cringed at the word IV. Not being a big fan of needles, but I guessed I would have to get used to it.

  “Nurse Michele is going to insert an angiocatheter to minimize how many times we have to insert a needle into your veins. It will make it easier on you and also help to keep your veins viable,” she explained.,

  Swallowing hard, I tried not to panic over this new information. “Viable?” I asked, my voice coming out shaky, losing the steady tone I had earlier.

  “In this case, it means usable. Sometimes veins become unusable or collapse, especially if they are being pierced by a needle a lot. Even the angiocatheter will have to be changed after a while.”

  I nodded in understanding, not trusting my voice. My mind wandered again and thought about what would happen if all of my veins became unusable. An image came to mind of me dying because they couldn’t help me without a functional vein.

  “Are you okay?” Dr. Arenstam’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

  “Huh?”

  “You look pale,” she told me. “It’s really not that bad. Once it is in, it shouldn’t bother you. If for some reason it does bother you, tell us and we will see if something is wrong with it. Infections can occur, so it is always good to tell someone if something doesn’t seem right so we can treat a possible infection. Your body will be working hard to fight the cancer, so it will be more difficult to fight off any infections or sicknesses, but we are here to help you and make sure to keep those things from affecting your recovery.” She gave me a warm smile. She was trying to make me feel better, but she was freaking me out, making me think about things that could go wrong that I hadn’t even thought of yet.

  Before my mind started going to bad places again, I responded. “Okay I’m ready,” I told her, swallowing hard. It was a lie. I’d never be ready.

  The nurse left, and Dr. Arenstam told me to get comfortable. Sliding off the bed and going to my bag, I retrieved my iPod and earphones before climbing back onto the bed—this time under the covers.

  Mom and Dad moved from the couch, each coming to one of my sides—Dad to my left, Mom to my right. They both had watery eyes, making my heart feel like one of those damn needles was piercing it. I hated to see my parents like this. They were never like this.

  They leaned down and hugged me tight; at least they weren’t hugging me like a china doll. This hug was just as sad, filled with fear, sadness, and worry, like it could be the last hug they’d ever give me. Who were they kidding? They would most likely be living at the hospital with me. This was far from the last hug, even if things took a turn for the downright ugly and horrible. Oddly, this brought me comfort. I hugged them back even tighter as I promised myself that I wouldn’t take another hug for granted.

  “We love you, sweetie,” my dad’s voice rasped.

  “We will be right here,” Mom promised.

  I released my grip on them and looked at them, taking them in. “I know,” I said, smiling at them warmly—the first real smile I had given them since my diagnosis. I did know that they loved me, and as long as I had them here, I wouldn’t be alone in this.

  Nurse Michele came back in with an IV bag and other medical tools. My parents glanced at her and then hugged me again before stepping away. She put the bag on the IV stand and the rest of the stuff down on a little table. She took my blood pressure, and once she was done, she wrapped a rubber strip around my left upper arm and tied it. She then cleaned an area on my arm and the strong scent of alcohol prickled my nose.

  “Okay, I’m going to put the angiocatheter in now. Try to keep your arm relaxed. If you tense up, it will hurt more. It should be quick, and after the initial pinch, it shouldn’t hurt,” Nurse Michele explained as Dr. Arenstam observed us.

  I just nodded and looked away. I didn’t want to see it, and I knew if I watched it would be even more challenging not to tense up. It still was difficult just knowing what was coming.

  I felt the needle pierce my skin and slide in. Squeezing my eyes shut, I bit my lip. She then loosened the band on my arm and removed it. I could feel the warmth of her hand through her latex gloves as she worked, putting something else where she had pierced me with the needle before feeling tape placed on my arm.

  “All done,” she chirped, bringing my attention to her again.

  “That’s it?” I asked, having expected it to be way worse.

  “That’s it.” She smiled. “See? That wasn’t that bad.”

  My body relaxed, and I inspected my arm that now had a little plastic tube on it surrounded by medical tape.

  “Now we just hook the IV line up to this every time we need to g
ive you one,” she said, pointing to the end of the tube.

  I felt a little silly getting so worked up over the catheter and IV; this was probably the easiest part.

  “I just have to take a blood sample first and then I will hook you up to the IV,” she told me. I liked that she told me what she was doing so I was prepared.

  She took out a syringe, but I wasn’t afraid this time since I wouldn’t be getting pierced with a needle again. That part was already over for now. I watched as she inserted the syringe into the tube and slowly pulled it back. Blood began to fill it, which was kind of odd to watch. It didn’t hurt; it was actually better than getting a shot. Once she finished getting the sample, she hooked up the IV and started it. I was now getting my first treatment.

  I put the earbuds in my ears, selected Three Days Grace, put their songs on shuffle, and got lost in the music. I didn’t want to talk. I chose to focus on the lyrics and the songs I was hearing for the first time instead of the poison that was seeping into my veins.

  ***

  Groggily opening my eyes, I saw Nurse Michele in front of me.

  “Your first treatment is all done,” she said cheerily.

  I tried to focus, but my brain still wanted to sleep. I was surprised that I’d fallen asleep; I hadn’t thought that I would, but then again, I had stayed up all night. My earbuds had fallen out, but the music was still playing. I hit the pause button on my iPod and looked around the room. The nurse was the only one in here.

  “They went to get some food from the cafeteria,” she informed me, answering the question I hadn’t asked yet.

  “I don’t feel any different,” I admitted.

  She gave me a sympathetic look as she placed one of those ugly pink plastic puke containers on the table next to my bed. “You will,” she said.

  “Great,” I muttered. I did have a rather nasty taste in my mouth.

  The door opened just as I sat up, and my parents entered with food.

  “We brought you soup and crackers,” Mom chirped as I saw that she and Dad both had burgers and French fries. The burger sounded way more appealing.

  “How about we trade?” I asked, tossing out a smile.

  Mom’s face faltered, and she looked from Dad to the nurse and back to me.

  “She can eat it,” the nurse told her, and I silently cheered in my head. I liked her. “We want her to eat, so she can eat whatever she feels like eating.”

  I didn’t plan to stop eating like she’d just made it sound, but I was good with getting to eat what I wanted. Dad handed his burger and fries to me. Score.

  “We will save the soup for later. Have mine and I will go get more,” he offered, giving me a reassuring smile. That was my dad—my hero, always making sure I got what I wanted.

  “Thanks, Dad!”

  Mom gave him a look that said she didn’t agree, but he just shrugged and left to go get more food. Nurse Michele followed him out, saying, “I’ll let you eat.”

  I ate the burger and fries with impressive speed, and by time Dad made it back to my room, they were long gone.

  “You were hungry,” he remarked with a chuckle.

  There was a knock on the door, and Nurse Michele peeked her head in.

  “There is a visitor here for you,” she announced, smiling.

  “Okay,” I said. She disappeared, and a moment later, Liz bounced into the room and immediately started talking without preamble.

  “I don’t have long. Mr. Clarke assigned this HUGE paper that is due tomorrow because we apparently weren’t paying attention,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Maybe if he said something interesting we would! Ugh. Anyways, school officially sucks without you already.” She gave me a pouty face. “I know it’s not your fault. Don’t worry. But I’m sleeping over this weekend. I miss you!” she exclaimed.

  I thought she only took about two breaths while she’d said all of that. My parents were looking at each other with wide eyes before they excused themselves from the room.

  “Wow!” I laughed. She smiled, jumped up on the side of my bed, and hugged me. I couldn’t help but smile back at her. She was ridiculous, and I loved it. “How exactly do you plan on sleeping over?”

  “I’m your best friend. They don’t have a choice but to let me sleep over,” she stated, winking at me.

  “If you say so…” I wasn’t so sure it worked that way.

  “I do,” she said, sure of herself, brushing her hair back behind her shoulder and smiled again. Her smile was still a bit off, but she was trying and I loved her for that. She embraced me in a hug again. “I’m sorry. I really do have to go, but I had to see you!” Some sadness had seeped into her voice.

  “It’s okay,” I assured her. “I’m really glad you came.”

  Me too!” Her voice bubbled again. “See you soon!” She winked, and just like that, she breezed out of the room just as fast as she had breezed in.

  My parents reentered once she left. They must have been waiting right outside the door.

  “That was fast,” Mom said, sounding surprised. “Did she say something about sleeping over?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How? Funny girl. I should give the nurses a heads-up then.”

  I just shrugged. Must be a family trait.

  Another knock came and once again Nurse Michele told me that I had a visitor.

  “Uh okay,” I said, thinking it was probably Austin.

  My parents moved toward the door, probably assuming the same when Kyle strolled in wearing his usual black jeans. But he was now wearing a dark blue t-shirt underneath his unzipped leather jacket. I was pretty sure my heartbeat sped up at his appearance. Dad stopped in his tracks and looked at me.

  “Who is this?” he asked with concern as he scrutinized him, arching his eyebrows. Oh boy. Not good.

  “Dad, this is just Kyle. He lives across the street from us,” I explained, hoping it would make him back off. Kyle gave me a curious look before extending his hand to my dad.

  “Nice to meet you,” Kyle said respectfully to my dad.

  My dad apprehensively shook his hand before letting his own fall back to his side. The always-protective dad—the negative to being a Daddy’s girl. Kyle ran his fingers with one sweep through his messy hair. I wondered if it was a nervous reaction, even though he didn’t appear to be nervous otherwise. Mom started pulling Dad out of the room.

  “Nice to see you again, Kyle,” she greeted in passing.

  I just rolled my eyes. Once the door shut again behind them, I looked Kyle over one more time and smiled.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked as he walked over to my side.

  “Just Kyle huh?” he teased, avoiding my question.

  “Well, you are Kyle and my dad was ready to drag you out the door,” I defended.

  “Mmhmm. Well, I told you I would visit,” he said, going back to my question.

  “I didn’t expect you to though,” I answered quietly as I ran my fingers through my tangled hair. I could only imagine what it looked like.

  “I don’t say I’m going to do something unless I mean it,” he said seriously while he locked eyes with mine.

  My heart stopped—or maybe just skipped. I wasn’t really sure, but Kyle had surprised me once again. I’d thought he was just another guy who didn’t think before he spoke when I first met him, but he kept surprising me, and here he was. He was a puzzle that I couldn’t figure out.

  “Well aren’t you the surprise,” I teased.

  “Good.” He winked and broke the eye contact to pull over a nearby chair.

  “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” I asked as he sat down and leaned back in the chair.

  “If I were sleeping, then I wouldn’t be here. Unless I sleepwalked and drove, and that wouldn’t be good… So no, I shouldn’t be sleeping.” He sounded quite serious.

  I arched an eyebrow at him. I really didn’t know what to make of him. No obligations, yet here he was after I’d kept him up all night. “Okay… You are weird,” I told
him.

  All of a sudden, heat swept over me and my smile was gone. Nausea rolled through me, and I looked at Kyle in horror. Oh no. I am not throwing up in front of him.

  “What?” he asked, standing up, but I was already jumping off of the bed in record time and making a run for it to the bathroom.

  Luckily, I was no longer hooked up to an IV. No, no, no, no, no!

  “Taylor?” Kyle’s concerned voice came after me as I shut the bathroom door.

  Sinking to the cool, tiled floor in front of the toilet, I tried to convince myself not to throw up. Everything I had eaten made a reverse dash out of me and into the toilet instead. Maybe the burger hadn’t been such a good idea.

  The door opened, but I couldn’t move. I was acutely aware of Kyle coming behind me, but I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. My hair was hanging loose around my face, some sticking to my cheeks. Kyle began to gently gather it and pull it away from my face just in time for another round of vomit. This was officially my new most embarrassing moment. Ever.

  “Should I get a nurse or your parents?” he asked.

  I shook my head no, too afraid to try to talk. I did not need anyone else seeing me like this. When I felt like I could get a word out I whispered, “Water.”

  Really needing water, I was also hoping to get him out of the room for at least a minute. He hesitated before tugging the hair elastic off of my wrist and tying back my hair that he had gathered in his hands. It was impressive how gentle he was and how he managed not to pull any of my hair while he did this. It was like he did this on a daily basis. Who was this guy? Stranger certainly still fit him, that was for sure.

  He left, and I flushed the toilet, not wanting to see the contents of it anymore. He returned faster than I’d expected and handed me a glass of water. Once I accepted the water, he moved to the sink and turned the water on, placing a washcloth underneath it. I brought the plastic cup to my mouth and took in some of the cool water but did not swallow it. I swished it around in my mouth before spitting it out into the toilet. Raising the cup to my lips once more, this time I actually took a drink. The cold liquid slid down my throat easily, fortunately bringing a little relief.

 

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