Instead, she bit her lip as Lucy’s jaw tightened and her voice turned cheerful and optimistic. “Well, this is for the best, then, ain’t so, Mattie?”
Was it? Mattie only shrugged and looked out the window as Dr. Wilmington was already murmuring orders to the nurse who had just entered.
When the nurse exited the room, Lucy stepped forward and started pestering the doctor again. “Dr. Wilmington, has Mattie gotten worse?” she asked, just as if Mattie wasn’t sitting there right next to her. “Is something terribly wrong?”
“Not necessarily.” While Dr. Wilmington went into a long and drawn-out explanation about numbers and platelets to Lucy—who must had been studying up on such things because she kept interrupting and asking for clarification—Mattie let her mind wander.
Instead of concentrating on the state of her blood, she thought about her garden. Wondered when her daisies and black-eyed Susans would bloom. Thought about getting a hydrangea bush. She did so love its violet blooms.
As Lucy and the doctor continued to weigh the pros and cons of her treatment, Mattie daydreamed about gardening. Oh, she hoped that one day soon she could kneel in the soft dirt and feel the sun on her back again. That she could dig her hands into the earth and not have to worry about getting an infection.
Dreaming about nature was the best way to get through the day. She’d already learned that even the best of explanations could never tell her exactly what she wanted to know—and that was why in the world a twenty-two-year-old woman would be struck with cancer.
When his speech wound down, and Lucy looked more confused than ever, a silence permeated the room.
Obviously, both Lucy and the doctor were waiting for her to say something. Anything to illustrate her understanding. With a sigh, Mattie faced the inevitable. “I’m going to be here longer than just one night, aren’t I?”
The kind doctor’s eyes softened. Like he understood just what a hardship it was for her. “I think so.” Looking down at her chart, he murmured, “Your body is having a difficult reaction to some of the drugs. I’m worried about your swollen hands and feet.”
Looking at her hands, which were indeed terribly red and swollen, Mattie nodded. She’d been worried about them, too . . . but hadn’t wanted to say anything.
“We’ll cross our fingers that your stay will be just for one night,” Dr. Wilmington said. “I’m hoping the change in the dosage of your medicine will alleviate the problems. But we’ll need to keep a close eye on you. We can’t be too careful, you know.”
“I suppose not.” Looking Lucy’s way, she added drily, “I’ll cross my fingers, too.”
“And you will pray, too, yes?” Lucy asked in Pennsylvania Dutch.
“Of course,” she replied. But of course that was a lie. She wouldn’t be praying. Praying didn’t help.
“Mattie, after you’re admitted and we get more of your tests results back, I’ll stop by your room,” Dr. Wilmington said. “In the meantime, do you have any more questions?”
“Nee.” After all, there was really nothing to say.
Gently patting her arm, he smiled at both her and Lucy, then exited.
In a furtive motion, Lucy wiped her eyes. Mattie pretended she didn’t see, though her heart went out to her cousin. It was difficult to hear such bad news. Especially the first time. So she attempted to lighten things up. “Well, there goes our fun afternoon.”
But instead of Lucy joking right back, she flinched. “Mattie, I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t you worry none. There’re lots and lots of people who are watching every little part of me, Lucy. I’ll be okay.”
“It’s not your cancer I’m worried about, it’s your feelings.”
“My feelings?” Mattie raised an eyebrow. “My feelings don’t matter, Lucy.”
“Of course they do. Why, it’s your spirit and your hope that are the most important right now.” Looking her over, Lucy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not giving up, are you?”
“Of course not.”
“You better not. Things will get better, I promise. They always do.”
Mattie wished her mind was clearer. Her cousin had a tender heart, and only wanted to make things better. The right thing to do would be to offer some kind of consolation. Something to ease Lucy’s worries and make sure her cousin would believe that everything was going to be all rosy. But at the moment, Mattie didn’t have anything more to say. The disease was taking over her life, bit by bit.
She used to feel she was so strong. She used to feel like she could do anything—even fix Lucy’s life. Even fix Lucy.
Now it was all too apparent that she couldn’t even fix herself.
Looking at her light teal dress lying on the back of Lucy’s chair, she mused, “Do you think I could get dressed? I hate these thin hospital gowns they make me wear.”
Lucy brightened. “Yes, changing would be better. I’ll go ask.”
But just as she opened the door, another nurse popped through.
“Mattie, I heard you’re going to visit with us for a few days,” she said, her voice crisp.
“I heard that as well.” Desperately, she looked at her dress. If she had on her clothes, at least she could still be herself on the outside. “Can I get dressed?”
“There’s no need, dear. We’re going to call in an orderly to help move you to a wheelchair. Then we’ll transfer you from the medical center to the main hospital building.”
With a sympathetic look, Lucy said, “My cousin will be cold dressed just in that gown . . .”
“Oh, we’ll cover you up in warm blankets,” the nurse replied as she moved around the room, gathering Mattie’s things into a neat pile. “Don’t you worry, dear. We’ll have you snug as a bug, head to toe.”
Mattie sighed as depression weighed down on her again. Though her brain told her everything the nurse said made sense, it was never more evident that she was supposed to do nothing but sit and follow directions.
As Lucy asked about a phone and the nurse told her the way to the nurses’ station, Mattie only half listened.
Even though the doctors said it was all gone, the cancer was still winning. It didn’t matter how she’d gotten it. What mattered was that she did.
All she had to understand was that it had claimed her, and it wanted to be the winner. She was the loser.
She could put up a brave front. She could act like she was fighting her hard battle—and she would. But now Mattie knew for certain—felt it deep inside her—that the cancer was going to claim her life.
Prayer worked wonders, John thought as he sat in the empty sanctuary of the Lutheran church and breathed deep. Ever since Calvin and Katie had stopped by to tell him about Mattie’s turn for the worse, it had weighed heavily on his mind.
A part of him knew it didn’t make all that much sense. Though he’d met Mattie when he walked over to the Lapps’ with Graham, he truly didn’t know the girl all that well.
He didn’t know her any better than the dozens of people he’d met over the last few years. Some of them had been really hurting, too. But he’d never been tempted to pray for them.
However, he felt closer to everyone here in Jacob’s Crossing. Even though he wasn’t living at his old house, he felt a part of the community. And because of that, he ached to do anything to help their worries.
Even if it was only prayers.
Obediently, he prayed for Mattie’s health. And for her doctors and nurses and other caregivers. He prayed for Mattie’s parents, and for everyone who was working so hard to make each of her days a little easier.
He gave thanks for God’s healing touch. And for all the blessings in his life.
And then he paused.
As the moments passed, John was sure he felt the Lord Himself standing at his side, waiting for the rest of the truth.
“Lord, I guess I can’t fool you, can I?” he murmured. “You’re right. I’m here for selfish reasons, too. I need help and guidance.”
As the ai
r around him softened, John kept talking. “Lord, I know coming back to Jacob’s Crossing was the right thing to do. I am so thankful to be forging a relationship with my brother’s family. They are good people, and a true joy to me.”
“And this donut shop, well, it’s a gift. I am enjoying my partnership with Amos, and I am certainly happy to not be working in a cubicle like I was in Indy.”
“So I’m real thankful for all of that.”
He took a deep breath. “But, God, I just don’t understand why you’ve brought two such different women into my life. What can it mean? Jayne is everything I used to dream about. An English woman, confident, beautiful. Okay, I’ll admit it—she’s desirable. Very much so.”
Feeling a bit embarrassed to admit such things aloud, he rushed on. “But, Lord, Mary has taken my heart, too. Every time I see her, I want to do more for her. I want to help her with Abel, and hear more about her life . . . And how can that be? I left the order.
“I left, and I didn’t look back. Well, not until now.
“What do you want me to do?”
John paused, half waiting for a bolt of lightning or a note to fly through the air, giving him specific directions.
But of course nothing like that came. No, all he felt was a reassurance that he wasn’t alone. That his prayers would be heard.
In due time.
“Amen,” John said. Standing up, he looked around and realized he felt a little bit better. No, nothing was decided, and he was still as confused as ever.
But at least he felt like he had a buddy to discuss things with.
Chapter 22
After much deliberation, Mattie came to the conclusion that God must have, indeed, decided to leave her. She’d tried to pray, but that had been hopeless. For the first time in her life, she’d felt only emptiness when she’d prayed. As if no one was listening, that no one really cared.
Perhaps that was for the best?
Accepting the harsh reality of her situation seemed like the only way to survive. Now that she had stopped fighting the inevitable, and had stopped feeling so sorry for herself, Mattie realized she could concentrate on the needs of other people.
Which was a welcome change.
Now that she wasn’t consumed with herself, Mattie could look around and take in her surroundings. And what she saw there was amazing. She knew she was witnessing the Lord’s work in almost everything at the hospital.
Yes, God was working with the doctors and nurses. He was guiding them, giving them the knowledge to treat the cancer cells in their patients’ bodies. He gave the volunteers the strength to continually smile even when many of the patients were difficult and short-tempered.
He guided the technicians who worked in the radiation labs. The Lord was surely with Charlie, their driver, too. Miraculously, he never lost his patience, even when both she and her mother were not at their best.
All this thinking about others did give her comfort, and it did hold threads of hope for her, too. God was there in the hospital with them.
And just because He wasn’t watching over her, it didn’t mean He didn’t care about others.
That knowledge made her stay almost bearable.
That, and her loving cousin Lucy.
Oh, but she couldn’t help but worry about Lucy. Over the last three days, Lucy had left only once. Otherwise, she bustled and fetched. Smiled and encouraged. But not this afternoon.
“What is bothering you so much, Lucy?”
Lucy blinked. “Nothing.”
“Please tell me.”
“It’s just that I never imagined your healing would be such a roller coaster event. That’s all. I had thought that we would get through your chemotherapy treatments and then you would be better.”
Mattie completely understood. “All this, it was hard for me to accept at first, too. But I’ve come to find out that this cancer is a mighty tough opponent. Wily, too.”
“I don’t know how to make things better for you.”
“You already have made things better by being here.” Mattie was being completely honest. Lucy’s presence had been a true gift.
Slowly, Lucy nodded. “I’m glad I am here.” Standing up, she shook out her skirts. “Now, how can I help you?”
Though Mattie didn’t really feel like being fussed over, she saw that Lucy ached to do something—anything—to feel useful. So she pointed to her head and frowned. “My hair’s an awful mess. Would you mind brushing it out for me?”
“Not at all.” After digging through Mattie’s suitcase, Lucy helped Mattie off with her kapp, then unpinned her hair.
When her hair fell in waves down her shoulders, Mattie smiled. Perhaps a good hair brushing was what she needed. She closed her eyes when Lucy started.
As the soft bristles rubbed against her head, she felt her shoulder and neck muscles relax. It had been a long time since anyone had brushed her hair. Years.
Ah. Yes, this was most likely what she needed—to take time to enjoy the simple pleasure of getting her hair brushed.
And then she could put her kapp back on, and she would look more like herself. Neat and orderly.
“Oh, my,” Lucy murmured. Quietly. So quietly, Mattie almost didn’t hear her.
“What?”
With a stricken look, Lucy held up a handful of hair. “It’s coming out.”
Mattie grabbed the brush. “What is? My hair?” she asked, but of course it was a silly thing to ask. She knew what was happening.
“I’m sorry, Mattie. I’m afraid the medicine is causing it to come out.”
Awkwardly, Mattie ran the brush along her scalp. To her dismay, thick strands of hair came out. Right into her hands. Some fell onto her lap.
Crushed, she examined the rich brown strands now lying limp in her hands. Though she had never been an especially prideful girl, she’d always rather liked her hair. She’d liked the rich chocolate color and how thick and long it was.
And now it was falling out. Showing her once and for all that the cancer was winning another battle. And proving that God was still looking the other way.
“Lucy, go find me a mirror, would ya?”
“Oh, no . . .”
“Please?” Mattie couldn’t help that her voice had gotten high and shrill. “Please? Now. I can’t get up easily with the cords attached to me.”
“All right,” Lucy said. With another look of dismay, she met Mattie’s eyes, then swallowed hard. Without another word, she practically ran out the door.
Unable to help herself, Mattie brushed at her head again. Harder this time. In retaliation, more strands pulled away.
Minutes later, Lucy came in with a handheld mirror, and a concerned-looking nurse on her heels.
“Mattie, why don’t you put that brush away? We don’t need to dwell—”
She held out her hand. “Please. Give me the mirror.”
But instead of handing the mirror forward, Lucy looked at the nurse.
“It’s all right,” the nurse said quietly. “Let Mattie have it.”
With obvious reluctance, Lucy did as she bid.
Half dreading what she would see, Mattie raised it to her face. Immediately she spied a gray patch of bare skin that was now showing just above her ear. Unable to stop her sounds of dismay, Mattie tilted her head and moved the mirror around. More patches were visible.
And even more strands were loose in her hair, just waiting to fall on her lap. The tears now fell on her cheeks. She was in a losing battle with the disease. First it had claimed her breast, and now her hair. Already she’d lost ten pounds.
She was turning into someone she didn’t know. “I’m hatt gukkich.”
“You are not,” Lucy said. “You are not ugly at all.”
“Why don’t you let me have the mirror now, child,” the nurse said gently.
Though she wanted to scream and fight, Mattie did as she was bid.
When the nurse held the mirror again, she gazed at her with concern. “I can give you some medicine fo
r your anxiety. It will help you rest.”
“I don’t need medicine. I’m fine.”
“All right,” she said agreeably. “Now, would you care to pin your hair back up and put it under your kapp?”
Mattie struggled with a reply. At the moment, she was afraid to touch her head. Afraid doing so would only pull out more strands.
After a meaningful look Lucy’s way, the nurse said, “Or we could do something else . . .”
“And what is that?”
“We could go get Miss Beverly. She’s a volunteer hairdresser.”
The nurse made no sense. “Why in the world would I need—”
“Miss Beverly shaves heads for women who are losing their hair,” she explained. “She’s here today. I saw her just down the hall.”
Oh, but shaving her head seemed like a terribly hard step.
But even if she fought the changes, they would still come. The chemo would still take its toll. “If you could find this Miss Beverly, I would be most appreciative,” she said quietly.
“I’ll be right back, sugar,” the nurse said with a smile.
Lucy walked around the bed and sat at her side. “Oh, Mattie, I’m so, so sorry.”
Mattie was, too. She was sorry about her hair, and her looks. And the fact that once again, her faith felt so tenuous.
Just when she was about to remind Lucy that God was in charge . . . Mattie was coming to realize that she didn’t care for that arrangement. Not at all.
Not one little bit.
Focus on Mattie. She needs you. Focus on her needs, not yours.
Over and over again, Lucy repeated the mantra, willing herself to believe the words. Willing herself to let them guide her.
Focusing on Mattie helped keep her mind off Calvin. All their misconceptions about each other had fallen away on the steps, leaving room for their feelings to grow.
And now they seemed to be in full bloom. No, it was more than that. She’d felt happy and calm. And peaceful. And for one little moment . . . the only thing she’d thought about was Calvin. And the fact that she was sure he’d been about to kiss her.
And if he had, Lucy knew she would have kissed him back. The feelings had been mildly shocking. When Paul died, she had sworn to herself that she’d never trust a man again. Certainly, she’d promised herself to never get involved in another relationship! All that would bring her was sorrow and pain.
The Caregiver Page 16