CHASING LIFE

by Steve Jovanoski

  CHASING LIFE

  By Steve Jovanoski

  ‘We shall not cease from exploration

  And the end of all our exploring

  Will be to arrive where we started

  And know the place for the first time.’

  - T. S. Eliot

  Chapter 1

  The hospital became a second home, and the blood transfusions more frequent. On some days Julia couldn’t get out of bed without one. Dave would sit beside her on a hard hospital chair, flicking rapidly through a dog-eared newspaper, hardly paying attention to its contents. He tried distracting his mind from its constant refrain of worried thoughts while throwing glances her way, just making sure she was comfortable. He hated being there—hated the now-familiar smell of sterile halls and the unnatural routine. Julia, ever perceptive, would look compassionately at him with her exhausted eyes and pat him on the hand.

  ‘Just recharging my batteries, Dave. This bunny will be out of here in a flash, I promise,’ she said. Dave usually averted his gaze at this, guilty for being unable to hide his emotions. Their constant straining to remain positive, they both knew, was not about Julia’s illness but about their sanity.

  ‘You just relax,’ he replied and took her hand in his. Julia liked that. His large warm hands were pillows for her skeletal fingers.

  ‘You know what the best thing about this is?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t have to do the cooking and cleaning,’ she laughed and squeezed his hand.

  Dave put the paper down, ‘Is that why you’ve been coming here?’

  ‘Oops, did I say that out loud?’

  Colour was gradually returning to her face and her energy levels were on the rise.

  ‘Don’t think you’ll be getting out of it that easily. You’re on mop duty as soon as we get home,’ Dave winked.

  Eight months had gone by since her diagnosis. At first the diagnosis was leukaemia. Then her body started losing coordination and strength. She’d drop things; her muscles twitched uncontrollably; and she couldn’t move like she normally did. They both knew something wasn’t right. More tests were run and she was diagnosed with motor neuron disease as well. After this second diagnosis, they were devastated. Hers was an incredibly rare case, even more remarkable for her only being in her late twenties. The specialist told Dave that the disease progressed quickly and was almost always fatal. He mentioned with a bit of levity that Stephen Hawking had lived with it for over fifty years, as if to offer a crumb of hope—but unspoken between them was the fact that Julia also had leukaemia to cope with.

  The symptoms began slowly at first: slurred speech, impaired mobility and on one occasion a terrifying lapse into a temporary coma when her lungs collapsed. As if that weren’t bad enough, Julia was one of a small percentage that developed dementia as a result of the illness. Dave took it hard, expecting the worst, pacing the house like an anguished animal at night, unable to sleep. Somehow Julia remained upbeat. ‘I’m still on my feet!’ she would say, in defiance of the diseases beating down on her. As soon as she felt somewhat better, Julia carried on as though nothing was happening. Dave couldn’t fathom why she didn’t worry as he did. Why was she the strong one?

  Once they got over the shock of the initial diagnoses, they regrouped and sought a second and then a third opinion. Maybe they’d got it wrong. Maybe there was hope. The responses varied slightly, but the verdict remained the same: the diseases assaulting Julia’s body were terminal. They tried rehab, Naturopathic therapy, herbs from all ends of the world and all manner of fringe remedies, but nothing helped. Dave kept hoping and Julia kept smiling for his sake—at least most of the time. On occasion she would devolve into hysterical states, laughing uncontrollably and crying desperately. The episodes took him by surprise—it was so uncharacteristic of his stoic wife. The doctors told them that it was all part of her symptoms.

  Julia knew what the inevitable outcome of her illness was, but Dave refused to admit it. Her smile was his drug. How could he live without her? In her eyes he could see himself reflected, but behind his reflection he could see the spark of light slowly fading away. Julia was suffering in the cruellest possible way, while Dave was utterly helpless to ease her pain.

  After the blood transfusion they snuggled together in front of the TV. Dave wasn’t paying much attention to what was on. He was engrossed in the newspaper, as usual, when a reminder on his phone sounded a little chime. He got up to bring Julia the usual rainbow-coloured assortment of pills from the medicine cabinet they had dubbed ‘the chemical store’. Julia turned to Dave after taking the last one. Her face was forlorn and tired; she was deep in thought. A bottle of pills slipped from her grasp, which was steadily worsening. Dave quickly picked it up and engaged her in a conversation to take her mind off the incident, but she wouldn’t be diverted.

  ‘Look at me,’ Julia said, her tone depressed. Her once luminous eyes were now hollow sockets of gray.

  ‘What?’ Dave asked, but he knew what was on her mind. She was looking down at her shrunken body with complete emotional detachment. A bolt of grief shot through his chest.

  Julia drew her top up and pinched the papery skin of her stomach. ‘I’ve lost so much weight! Talk about extreme weight-loss programs. Here’s one to write about.’ Her tone was chipper, but Dave could tell she was leading up to something.

  ‘You’re fine,’ Dave said. ‘Let’s just talk about something else. Let’s not get into this discussion. Not now.’ He turned away from her.

  ‘No, I’m not fine,’ Julia said, her gaze insistent. ‘It’s getting worse. It’s been eight months and we’re just going through the same motions every day, wasting time I don’t have. I can’t stand this waiting and pretending anymore, Dave.’ Her eyes focussed on the pills with disgust, as if they were eyeing the very thing that was making her sick.

  ‘You’re in the most critical stage of your leukaemia, Julia,’ Dave said, his voice cracking under the strain. ‘You have to keep up the medication. Anything can—’ Julia knocked the bottles off the tray before he could finish his lecture. Pills bounced all over the carpet like so many M&M’s. It looked perversely festive.

  ‘I don’t want these drugs anymore!’ she burst out crying.

  Dave reached over and took her in his arms. He held her there until the sobbing slowed and she calmed down. He loved holding her, even though her body was so frail now. Eventually her body relaxed, and he too allowed the tension in his muscles to wane, as if one body relied on the other for its reaction. It was one of those moments when Julia’s strength held her back from breaking down.

  ‘You have to take them, darling. Please?’ he begged her. They’d been walking on a high wire of anxiety for so long that the slightest shake could send them plunging into despair. Dave needed Julia to not give up hope. Julia didn’t answer straight away.

  She wiped her eyes. ‘Soon I won’t even be able to walk.’

  ‘You know I’m always here for you,’ Dave replied.

  ‘Shush, hear me out.’ She touched his lips affectionately, wanting to give comfort. Dave had the worried look of a little boy. She continued firmly. ‘I won’t be able to walk; my speech will get worse, and in the end I’ll be drip-fed. You won’t exist for me then. Do you know how it makes me feel to know that?’

  ‘Don’t talk like that.’ Dave didn’t like what he knew he was about to hear.

  ‘I won’t have you wiping my arse. Do you understand?’ Julia’s voice went octaves higher than usual, her body again tense, her heartbeat rapid.

  ‘Jesus, Julia. How do you know it’ll get that bad?’

  ‘I’ll be a sack of flesh and bones staring up at the ceiling like a spaced-out zombie, Dave.’

  ‘I take care of you now don’t I? Nothing w
ill change,’ he snapped, raising his voice. He got up angrily.

  ‘Everything will change. How can you say that? Don’t walk away from me!’ she cried. Dave’s shoulders slumped as he reluctantly returned to her, cowed by the anger he’d spoken with.

  ‘It’ll be harder, but I’ll manage,’ he declared bravely. But his voice faltered as he said it.

  ‘I don’t want you to go through that, not for me or anybody.’ Julia’s face softened. Her thin fingers caressed his face gently. They felt like a couple of cold wooden sticks, dry as tinder.

  ‘I’ll deal with it, I told you. As long as you’re alive, I’ll do fine,’ Dave insisted.

  ‘It won’t be fine. I love you, Dave, but sometimes you’re an idiot,’ she sat up, looking him in the face. ‘What kind of life will you have? You’re still young, and I won’t be me anymore. These conversations between us won’t happen. I won’t be capable of them. You must start thinking about the future, your future. Have you thought about that, Dave?’ Julia paused for a moment to allow her words to sink in. ‘That’s all I’m asking. I won’t have you throw your whole life away.’ Her obstinacy was infuriating, but the compassion in her voice tore him apart. The creases on her face eloquently expressed her worry. After all the pain her body had endured, she was still thinking of him first.

  He didn’t have a reply. She was, after all, right. He had no idea what he would do when her state worsened, but he didn’t know what he would do without her either. He looked away, making it clear he wasn’t happy with all this talk. The very act of planning for the future would mean that he’d conceded that her death was imminent. And he wasn’t letting go of hope.

  Dave regretted his outburst and apologised the best way he knew how. ‘Look at the positive side,’ he said, kissing the top of her head. ‘I get to tell you the same joke every day.’ He attempted a half-arsed smile.

  ‘You are an idiot,’ Julia replied, kissing him on the cheek. ‘The only reason I laugh at your jokes is because they’re so bad.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised, giving her a hug. He moved her hair aside and brushed her cheeks. They were warm and wet to the touch. He remembered how she used to have such a plump and healthy face.

  ‘How about this?’ she said. ‘I’ll take the medication, and we’ll talk about this again another time, but I want something in return. Deal?’ Julia’s eyes sparkled. She was trying a new angle.

  ‘That’ll depend on what you want,’ he answered cautiously, wondering what she was up to.

  ‘I have three—no, four—wishes.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘Come on,’ she smiled. ‘It’ll be fun. It’s something for the both of us.’

  ‘Why do I get the feeling you’ve thought about this already?’ Dave asked, looking suspiciously at her.

  ‘You’ll like it, trust me. It’ll be our little game,’ Julia said.

  ‘All right then.’ He would have done anything for her, anything she wanted. And right now, he could see that she wanted to do something while she was still in control over her body and mind.

  ‘Here’s the first one. I want you to take me to the place we first met,’ she said, with a cheeky look on her face.

  Dave was puzzled at first, and then cringed at the recollection of that dusty memory from eleven years before. He thought he’d never have to revisit the embarrassing encounter.

  ‘Don’t tell me that Mister Smooth forgets how he made his move and slid his card over to me. As I was having lunch with a date, I might add.’ She folded her arms and grinned. She was clearly enjoying tormenting him.

  ‘Yes, yes. It was at the Vertigo Café,’ he conceded. ‘Why is it that you women remember these things? At least I waited until your date left the table.’

  ‘Oh, yes. You are my gallant gentleman. My hero!’ she said sarcastically. ‘I must admit that my date was boring.’ She smiled and rose to her feet.

  ‘You are so modest,’ Dave teased. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To rest up before our date tomorrow. You have work to do, mister.’

  Dave watched Julia walk into the bedroom. ‘I haven’t agreed yet!’ he called out.

  Chapter 2

  They arrived at the Vertigo Café in time for lunch the following day. It was a little place across the road from the Melbourne State Library that was always packed with art students. The owners were a young Spanish couple who ran the place like a cosy hostel. In between sessions of spinning vinyl records, the DJ brewed coffee and served sandwiches; no chair resembled any other in the establishment, and the ’70s couches may well have been scavenged from someone’s front lawn.

  It was the same old place—a glimpse of the past—packed and noisy, but with a new price-list. They sat at the same table Julia had been sitting at when they met, and Julia ordered a house white—cheap but good. She was wearing the very same jeans as the first time they’d met, but her hips were much thinner now, and they hung loosely on her bony frame. Their excitement made them feel younger as they commented on the old coffee machine and the faded photos of forgotten celebrities lining the back wall.

  For just one afternoon they forgot about Julia’s illness, drawn into a conversation about music and politics and challenging each other’s views. They’d broken through the confines of their situation to taste a moment of the life they once had enjoyed.

  While Julia excused herself to go to the bathroom, Dave waited, observing the carefree crowd around him chatting away and engrossed in their everyday routines. He envied them. Dave’s reality couldn’t be more different. His consisted of medical appointments, doctors, endless waiting in hospitals and a myriad of drugs, the names of which he could hardly pronounce. A newspaper was left on the bar bench and Dave reached for it. But he couldn’t concentrate on it. He remembered it was time for Julia’s medication. His mood immediately changed to one of anxiety as he began to worry why she hadn’t returned yet.

  He kept his eyes on the bathroom door. People went in and out, but Julia was still in there. He felt a tinge of panic and hurried toward the bathroom, imagining Julia lying unconscious on the floor. The door swung open as he neared it and nearly hit him in the nose.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she chuckled, surprised at seeing him there. A wave of relief and slight embarrassment washed over him.

  ‘I thought I’d wait for you here.’

  ‘You’re such a liar. I’m a girl, remember? I take my time. Come on. Let’s go.’ Julia grabbed him by the arm, still laughing at him as they walked out, ‘Where did you get that newspaper?’

  The date at the Vertigo Café took a lot out of Julia. Upon returning, she took her medicine and slept through the next day, waking up long enough to eat a little and then sleeping till the following morning. Meanwhile, Dave paced nervously in and out of the bedroom, watching her chest rise with every laboured breath. She finally woke up at midday on the second day after their date and told him it was the most peaceful sleep she’d had in a long time. He knew it was a lie.

  ‘What’s your next wish?’ Dave asked, sitting gently on the bed beside her. Julia stretched her arms out and pulled him nearer. He slipped under the blankets next to her warm body and placed his head on her sprawled curls.

  ‘Take me to where we first made love,’ she whispered.

  ‘I like the sound of that,’ he said, watching her close her eyes and drift back to sleep.

  A few days later, Julia was able to leave the bed on her own, walking to the bathroom and back at first and gradually stabilising enough to move around the house. Dave was in the kitchen when she came in, yawning and pale from all the time spent in bed.

  ‘Have you done the wash?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, darling,’ he replied, eyes softening at the sight of her. ‘Come sit and have some breakfast. We have to leave soon for the hospital. It’s time for your blood transfusion today. We also have your second wish to think about.’ Dave grinned and turned back to preparing the toast and coffee, but his smile faded when he turned and sa
w the state she was in. Julia looked zoned out.

  ‘What blood transfusion?’ she asked.

  ‘The one you’ve been having every week.’ You need it to make you feel better.’ He scanned her face with a worried look, wondering whether anything was registering. Her dementia was picking up pace, and he realised he had to keep a closer eye on her.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Julia answered, confusion written all over her face. ‘Don’t forget to do the wash.’ She shuffled away and walked into the bedroom.

  She gave a little gasp when she saw a stranger walk toward her and stopped. The stranger stopped also. It was a weird looking, almost skeletal person. They stared at each other without saying a word. She then breathed a sigh of relief. It was her reflection. Confused, she looked around the room trying to recall why she’d gone in there in the first place. Why couldn’t she remember? She searched inside her head for a clue. Her muscles tensed up and her hands shook, she was using all of her strength to remember, her eyes bouncing around the room as if looking for a missing item. Little short breaths made her heart race.

  ‘Why?’ she started tearing. Whimpers came out of her, and the little energy she had was slowly draining. Her arms slumped and Julia calmed. Sitting on the bed quietly, she’d given up.

  Dave stared at the empty hallway and stopped what he was doing. In the bedroom, he found Julia sitting motionless on the bed in her nightgown, facing the window like a storefront mannequin.

  ‘What are you doing, darling?’ he wrapped his large warm hands around her face and wiped her cheeks. ‘Come on. Let’s get you dressed and we’ll go to the hospital.’

  The blood transfusion later that day had given Julia a much-needed energy boost, and there was no sign of her recent confusion. ‘You haven’t forgotten, have you?’ she asked on the way to the freeway. Colour had returned to her cheeks.

  ‘The picnic rug is already in the boot,’ Dave replied. ‘I’ll stop by a grocery and pick up a few things before we head off.’

  Before they’d made love for the first time, Dave had told Julia about a place on the western outskirts of Melbourne where a hill was covered with lavender, as far as the eye could see. But that was a long time ago. The landowners had since given up farming due to their old age and a competitive market, letting the land go wild. The steady encroachment of suburbia threatened this oasis and Dave feared that it too would one day vanish.