by Loomis, Lisa
I could see by the slumping of his shoulders he felt some regret in his causing her stress. I put my arm around him and rested my head on his shoulder.
When Dr. Chin finally came into the room, he sat down and placed his head in his hands. He had on faded green scrubs, his white facemask pulled down under his chin. I looked at the clock; four hours and nineteen minutes had gone by since she went into surgery. My heart sank, the hope I’d held onto torn from me by the pained expression on his face. I somehow knew that whatever he was about to say would forever change my world. I locked my arm through Ryan’s and squeezed his hand. I felt my nose burn and the tears well before he started to talk. When the doctor looked up at me, there were tears in his eyes.
“It’s cancer. I got some of it, but I can’t get it all, I tried so hard. It’s gone too far,” he said softly.
Chapter 48
I felt like I was in a movie, in someone else’s life. Like if maybe, I could go back and start the day over from the beginning, the outcome would be different. Dr. Chin waited for my response.
“So when you say you can’t get it all, does that mean it’s going to kill her?” I asked, knowing the answer.
“Yes, it’s terminal,” he answered.
He explained that it started as colon cancer, but spread to other organs in her body: the liver, the pancreas.
“Why didn’t Dr. Burns know it was cancer?”
“He can’t see inside, he’d only run some tests trying to find out why she wasn’t feeling so good,” Dr. Chin said. “Unfortunately all the test had come back inconclusive.”
“She wasn’t feeling good?” I asked dazed, wondering why she hadn’t said a word to me.
He asked if we had seen any signs, which is the part that shocked us the most, because we hadn’t. He explained that colon cancer was a slow cancer, and to get this far, she must have had it a long time. I told him I started to notice her weight loss when Ryan and I got engaged. That she wasn’t eating very much.
“She was a little more tired than normal too. She told me she’d seen a doctor, and that the tests were okay,” I sighed.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“How long?” I asked, feeling like a knife was twisting in my gut.
He understood my question.
“With cancer it’s hard to tell. It could be a day, a week, a month, a year. I would say in her case it would be months at the very most,” he answered.
I looked at Ryan, trying to process the information. We were talking about my mother, my confidante, my best friend. How can this be happening?
“We’re getting married in three months. Should I move up the date?” I asked, my words sounding foreign to me.
“I wouldn’t,” he said. “It gives her something to live for.”
Oh, god! I tried to choke back the tears and couldn’t any longer. A gasping sound burst from my lips and Ryan pulled me tightly to him. I buried my face in his chest and sobbed.
“Do you want to see her?” Dr. Chin asked.
“Can I?” I choked, turning from Ryan.
“I can take immediate family into the recovery room.”
He meant that Ryan wasn’t allowed. My lips were trembling as I wiped my tears. The look on Ryan’s face was so pained, as if it was his own mother. I kissed Ryan, and then followed Dr. Chin out of the room. He took me down a long hall and into a brightly lit room where a nurse was attending to Mom.
“Will she wake up?” I asked nervously.
“No, we’ll keep her sedated through the night. She’ll wake up some time tomorrow morning,” Dr. Chin said.
“Who will tell her?” I asked.
“I will. When you are ready,” he said.
I explained that my dad was out of town, and he would want to be there. I would need to call him and tell him the horrible news. He would need time to get home. Right now he still thought it was a ruptured appendix; I hated to be the one who had to deliver the devastating blow.
Mom was lying on her side on a recovery gurney, sleeping. I looked at her face and watched her breathe; she looked so peaceful. I was almost sorry she would have to wake up. I noticed a few tiny blood splatters on her cheek.
“Do you have a tissue?” I asked the nurse.
She noticed what I saw and gave me a wet tissue. I wiped the blood gently off her face. I couldn’t believe that tomorrow I would have to watch as the doctor told her she had cancer, and that it was terminal. That she was dying. It was almost more than I could stand. The tears welled and spilled out of my eyes, sliding silently down my cheeks. I stroked her arm and her cheek, both felt so familiar and soft.
“How can I lose you?” I choked out. “How do I do that one?”
I let the tears come and hugged her gently to me. From here on out, it would be moments I realized, every moment had to count. When I left the recovery room, I went back to where Ryan was and called Dad. He told me he would get on the next flight available for home. I could tell he was devastated. When I hung up Ryan took my hand pulling me up from the chair.
“Let’s go get something to eat and then go back to your folk’s.”
I realized I hadn’t eaten anything all day and neither had Ryan. I wasn’t the least bit hungry, but he probably was.
“I left Bo with Skyler, not knowing how long we would be,” Ryan said.
He slipped his arm around my waist and walked me out of the hospital. I was numb, my movements seeming strained and forced. The sun was still shining and I wondered how. How did one get news like this and the sun continue to shine? It seemed to me it should be dark and gloomy. Ryan opened the door to his van and helped me in.
We stopped at a Marie Callender’s. Getting into the booth felt like an extreme effort. It felt strange to being doing such normal things. I envisioned Mom sleeping peacefully on her side. The tears pressed forth as I looked at the menu, which blurred. I sighed and Ryan looked over at me, as he gently squeezed my leg.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Morgan, I want you to eat something.”
I tried to look at the menu again. When the waitress came I ordered a soup and salad and ate very little.
“Eat a little more,” Ryan encouraged, as he would a child.
I took a couple more bites and put my fork down. A terrifying thought had popped into my head.
“Ryan, what if she doesn’t make it till the wedding?” I cried. “If she isn’t at the wedding, I don’t know what I will do. How could I handle that?”
I could tell by his reaction that the same thought had already crossed his mind.
“Remember what the doctor said, give her something to live for,” he said sadly.
We went back to my parents’ house, and Ryan got me a glass of wine and built a fire in the fireplace. It wasn’t that cold out, but he knew I liked a fire, that it would comfort me. Dad had left a message on their home answering machine. He would be home on the red eye, putting him in San Diego at six in the morning. He would go directly to the hospital from there. I called him at his hotel.
“Dad,” I said when he answered the phone.
“You got my message?” he asked.
“Yes, Ryan and I will stay here tonight with the dogs. We will plan on meeting you at the hospital around eight. I’ll call Dr. Chin and see what time he wants to meet us. Dad, Mom looked so peaceful in the recovery room; she was sleeping,” I said, a sob spilling out. “I wish she didn’t have to know.”
“You and me both,” he whispered. “Did you find Pat yet?”
“No, but I’ve left messages at several of his friends.”
I knew he would pack and get to the airport way early to wait for his flight. Like me, he would hit the rewind button and remember the past; that it would rush at him like a freight train. No doubt reliving some things he could have done differently, better.
That night Ryan and I slept in my parents’ bed. Smelling Mom’s scent on the sheets was comforting in a strange way,
as though she were wrapped around me. I never did fall asleep. I listened to Ryan breathe and stared at the wallpaper on the wall. I remembered when we picked it out. I saw us going through wallpaper book after wallpaper book at the design shop where I had worked. She had been so excited about redoing her room. It was the summer I had the accident, the summer that I had to get a job. I counted back: it was eight years ago.
It seemed odd to me, these thoughts, that wallpaper mattered. I looked back over the last few years and tried to identify any glaring signs that should have told me she was sick. That the cancer was growing slowly inside her. I had been so focused on getting healed myself, and maybe I’d missed something. As much as I searched, I couldn’t find anything that would have clued me in.
Ryan had been so supportive today. I wondered how I would have coped if he wasn’t there; if he hadn’t come back to me. Our breakup and Tahoe now seemed a world away, almost like different people had played those roles. I pictured my mom, snapshots over the years clicking through my head. I reached back in my memory, wanting to remember it all. I saw her laughing on the merry-go-round in Monterey. We had climbed on the horses like kids. She had reached for my hand as the horses went up and down. I had held her hand, trying to get over Ryan then on our way to Tahoe. I could have been three again; it was still that comforting.
A mother wasn’t always easy. Mom hadn’t always been easy, but we became best friends along the way. I found it tragic that I had gained back a best friend who I was about to marry, and yet I was losing the one who supported me through everything. The one who bandaged my knees and kissed away the bumps and bruises of life, no matter how old I got.
I stared at the wallpaper in the dark and suddenly questioned why it was still there after so many years. She should have changed it in that time; I should have made her. She should have had new things.
Ryan turned over towards me and pulled me to him. I hoped for a minute that he was awake, that he could listen to my pictures, but he wasn’t. I held him to me, wanting him never to go, worrying that one-day one of us would. I knew tomorrow would be even worse than today, because tomorrow we all had to face the reality of the situation, face terminal. I felt hot tears run out of my eyes and down the side of my face. It seemed like forever before morning came, the darkness surrounding me. Light crept into the room slowly, and I watched it change the wallpaper back into colors. The sun still came up. I was lying on my back when Ryan woke up.
“Did you sleep?” he asked, leaning over to kiss me.
He kissed me softly as he ran his finger down the side of my face, following the trail of tears.
“No,” I said as more leaked out.
My mind wouldn’t stop, but my body felt exhausted.
“I’m so sorry. So damn sorry about it all,” he said, kissing me again.
“I decided last night that I hate this wallpaper,” I said.
He looked surprised and then surveyed the room.
“Is that what you stayed up all night about? The wallpaper?” he asked with a smile.
“It seemed better to worry about the wallpaper than what we have to face today,” I said. “She has to learn today, when she wakes up, that she’s dying. Seems like crazyville. It almost would have been easier if she hadn’t made it through the surgery, to have never known.”
“No it wouldn’t,” he protested. “At least this way you will have a chance to say goodbye.”
I choked out a loud sob, and he pulled me tightly to him.
“How do I do this, Ryan? How do I say goodbye?” I sobbed out angrily.
“We’ll learn together, you and me,” he said softly.
Chapter 49
Dad was at her bedside when we got to the hospital the next morning; she was still asleep. Again I wished she wouldn’t wake up to the ugly truth. I wondered how she would react once Dr. Chin told her the prognosis. How did an individual deal with news like that I wondered. I tried to get a handle on how I would feel, if it were me. Right now I was so damn mad at the world for it being her. I felt the numbness spread through my body as we walked into the hospital. It was almost as if it were trying to protect me, not let the hurt be so painful.
“When you have a plumbing leak, you call a plumber to fix it. When you need your car fixed, you take it to a mechanic. Who the hell do you call when someone has terminal cancer, God?” I cried. “Even if he could, would he fix it, could he?”
Ryan let me go on without comment. I knew he had his own sad thoughts to deal with. Mom was his confidante and friend too. When Dad saw us standing outside her door, he came out into the hall. I hugged him, and we stood in silence, holding onto each other. When he pulled away, I could see the tears in his eyes. He looked tired and fragile to me. Dad had always been the pillar of the family, never emotional, and it was hard to see him distraught.
“What happens now?” he asked.
“Dr. Chin will be here in about thirty minutes. If you want to talk to him first, we can do it out here. Then he has to go in and tell her,” I said.
“What are her options?” Dad asked wringing his hands together.
“According to Dr. Chin, it’s gone too far. I guess our only option is a second opinion,” I answered.
The look on my dad’s face pained me. I could see the loss already in his eyes.
“Ryan, thank you for being here last night for her,” Dad said.
Ryan put his arm around my shoulders and hugged me to him. I felt rag doll like.
“She’s pretty tough, but that was news none of us could handle well.”
I could see Dr. Chin coming down the hall towards us. His short black hair, kind eyes, and very thin frame; walking with sort of a waddle.
“Dad, this is her doctor,” I said, motioning with my head.
Dad turned around and waited for the doctor to reach us.
“Dr. Chin,” the doctor said, extending his hand.
“Sorry to have to meet you under these circumstances,” Dad said, shaking his hand.
“I totally understand. Let’s step over to the waiting area. I’m sure you have some questions,” Dr. Chin said, motioning for us to move down the hall.
We followed him to the sitting area. Ryan held my hand while Dr. Chin and Dad revisited what we had gone over last night. The words felt like droplets of water that refused to sink in, that I didn’t want to be real, and yet I knew them to be true. He described the brutal details of how the cancer would get worse, and then ultimately kill her.
She’d been so excited to help in all the details of the wedding. I wasn’t sure how that would work now that our world was forever changed. The thought of trying to plan a wedding while she was dying seemed impossible.
While Dr. Chin explained everything to Mom, I sat on her bed, holding her hand, Dad on the other side holding her other one. She didn’t cry. I wasn’t sure if she comprehended it, or if it was so overwhelming, her brain wasn’t processing it. She thanked the doctor for what he tried to do. When he left the room, she slowly surveyed the three of us, no words, just looking into each of our faces one by one.
“Mom, we can get other opinions. Maybe another doctor will have other ideas,” I said softly, my eyes welling with tears.
She squeezed my hand.
“We can do that,” she said calmly. “But if what Dr. Chin says is true, it’s all right. I’ve had a good life.”
She smiled at me, the same beautiful smile that she always had. The lump I felt in my throat rose, and I concentrated on pushing it down. I didn’t want to cry and make her cry. I could feel my heart break into tiny, tiny pieces. She squeezed my hand again. Dad bent down and kissed her, and I could see the love between them, the love that had once been there and that was back.
“Morgan, it’s all right. I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, we have wedding plans to finish,” she said cheerfully.
The sob burst out unexpectedly, and I ran out of the room into the hall. As the tears flowed uncontrollably, I made my way to the sitting area. I
sat down and hugged my knees to me in pain. How could this be? I knew life wasn’t fair, but this seemed beyond unfair, it seemed cruel. If there was a God how could he be so mean? It was several minutes before Ryan sat down next to me. He waited patiently for me to pull myself back together.
“I didn’t want to cry, make her cry. Is she okay?” I asked.
“Amazingly, I think she will be fine. It’s the rest of us I worry about,” he answered, his voice breaking.
I looked up at him and laughed through my tears.
“You’re right, you know,” I said.
He wiped my cheeks, wiping the tears away. He cupped my face.
“I love you,” he said, kissing me gently.
Pat came flying down the hall suddenly and stopped in front of us.
“What the hell is going on? I got a message that Mom’s here,” he said, breathing hard, his face flushed.
“I left those yesterday, Pat. What the fuck? Tracking you down is a joke. You might fucking check in with your family now and then,” I ranted.
I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I had left messages with several of his friends, not knowing exactly where he was. We had been so close once, and it didn’t seem to be that way anymore. Our lives had taken different paths, and he was lousy about keeping in touch.
“Sorry,” he said. “Why is Mom here?”
“Well, after being rushed into emergency surgery yesterday with us being told it was a ruptured appendix, it actually turned out to be cancer. Terminal cancer,” I said, my voice again composed.
Pat put his hands over his face, and his body visibly slumped. I got up and put my arm around him. When I did, silent, racking sobs shook his body. I pulled him tightly to me and held him.
“She knows, Pat. She took the news remarkably well. Dad’s in with her now. Pull yourself together a little before you go see her,” I said, rubbing his back.
He wiped the back of his hand hard across his eyes.
Mom would be allowed to go home in a couple of days, and we all needed to gear up for coping on a day-to-day basis. That night, Ryan let me cry myself to sleep in his arms. He didn’t try to tell me it would be okay, he just simply held me. Pat called me the next day and wanted to know every detail of what happened. We cried, and he was overwhelmed with guilt for not being around. He was close to Mom too, and he simply could not believe there wasn’t another answer.