Marcus

 

I watch as my woman walks lifeless out to her car and gets in. I don’t know what possessed me to get up at the ass crack of dawn and wait on her down her street. My need to know she was okay was consistently playing in my head. I didn’t get an ounce of sleep last night, I laid in bed and tossed and turned with all different types of scenarios playing in my head. I decide to follow her—the drive is long, and I watch as she wipes tear after tear away from her face using her hand.

“Where are we going, baby?” I ask, knowing I won’t get an answer. My worry for her increases with each turn we take, she’s crying harder now. I can literally see her shoulders shaking up and down, I’m assuming we’re coming closer to our destination. When we turn into a parking lot my heart drops, the building in front of us says, ‘Texas Oncology Institute’ and all I can think is, “Oh no, not my baby girl, please, not her.” I pull in beside her and she’s so lost in her train of thought that she doesn’t even notice me next to her. I get out of my car and round the rear end and head straight for her door. I open it and she looks up with wide eyes but melts in her seat when she notices it’s me.

“Marcus, what on earth? What are you doing here?” I don’t lie to her, never have and I never will.

“I followed you, I knew something was up with you and whatever it was, I wanted to be here for you.”

“Marcus, you should go home.”

“No, I’m not leaving you. Are you going in that building?” I stupidly ask since there’s nothing else around us.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Can we not talk about this right now?” she asks me.

“Fine, but I’m coming in with you, and I’m going in when you speak to the doctor.” I tell her, and I mean it. She will not fight me on this.

“Marcus…” I cut her off.

“We’re not discussing this, it’s happening.”

“I want to do this alone.”

“But you’re not alone, Emory, you never will be,” I tell her helping her from the car. “Let’s do this,” I say holding her hand and following her lead. We go up the elevator and stop on the tenth floor. I stoically follow her into suite number 1010 and sit in a chair while she signs in. I have a feeling this is a day that will be ingrained into my memory for the rest of my life.

 

 

“I’m sorry, Emory,” the doctor tells her. “I wish I had better news, but you have a form of leukemia called positive chronic myeloid leukemia.”

“Tell us more about this specific form of leukemia, doctor,” I say with my throat clogged. I’m fighting my own tears trying to be strong for my woman.

“Ph/CML is a type of cancer that affects the blood and the bone marrow,” he says. He takes a deep breath then continues, “The bone marrow itself produces too many white blood cells and these cells are immature or damaged and sometimes broken. It is an abnormal chromosome that causes the body to produce too many white blood cells. These kind of abnormal white blood cells crowd out normal healthy cells.” While he’s been talking, he’s pointing to a chart in his hand. A chart that I don’t pay attention to as he points things out, it’s his words I’m interested in, not some God damn drawing.

“How do we treat this?”

“I’m going to start her on some medication that will help reverse the broken chromosome. It has a very high success rate of curing those with this type of cancer. It will help jump start her body into paving the way to what I’m positive will be a full recovery. Her body needs to readjust itself, and this medication I’m prescribing for her will help trigger the body into regeneration of the white blood cells.”

“Will she ever be cured of this?”

“I wish as her doctor I could give a definite yes but like with all cancer it can come back at some point in time.” Dr. Tremaine says to me. I nod my head and look over at my girl. Her grip on my hand is strong and unyielding.

“We’re going to get you through this, Emory,” I say to her.

“Will I die?” she asks Dr. Tremaine.

“You most certainly will not!” I growl out and stand up from my chair. I lean down in front of her and tell her, “Don’t you dare give up and quit, do you hear me? I won’t let you, I love you.”

“I love you, Marcus, but you need to move on. I’m not saddling you to me because you want to make me better. You need to find someone to give you children, to grow old with. You need to move on and fall in love with someone who can give you forever.”

“Now wait a minute,” Dr. Tremaine says, breaking into our conversation. “I didn’t say you couldn’t have children. We’ve caught your case very early on and it is treatable, we just have to make sure we find the right dose of medication and get you healing. You can beat this, Emory,” he says, furthering my resolve and determination.

“We do this together, Emory. I won’t let you get rid of me…ever.” It takes her a minute to respond, but when she does she breaks my heart.

“I don’t want you to stay with me out of obligation, Marcus. There’s no way I can look at you and not be scared that the only reason you’re still by my side is because of your honor and commitment to those around you. You fight for people’s lives on a daily basis, I don’t want to be just another number to you at some point in time.”

“You could never be a number to me, Emory, you’re the woman I love, the woman I’m going to marry. Life isn’t full of guarantees, Em baby, but if the roles were reversed, would you stand by me and marry me?”

“Of course I would, I love you.”

“Give me the same benefit of the doubt, baby. I love you more than the next breath that leaves my body. I need you like the everyday person needs the air to breathe. Don’t push me away, baby, let me love you.” She looks deeply into my eyes for a few moments before she nods her head in acknowledgement.

“Okay, Marcus.”

“Thank you, Em baby,” I say as I brush my lips against hers. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Marcus.”

“I need to run a few tests on your heart and liver function before we can begin your medication, Emory. I have those set up for today, my lab is ready for you.”

 

 

After the tests were concluded, I followed Emory out to the parking lot and we decide to stop somewhere and eat on the way home. Once her results are in, Dr. Tremaine is going to call her prescription in so she can start it right away. As we’re driving home from the restaurant, I think to myself, “This is just a blip on the radar, we’ll get through it.” We pull up to her driveway and I can’t help but notice all the cars that are sitting in front of her house. I get out and go to her and say, “I guess we’re telling everyone what’s happening with you now.”

“That’s a damn good idea if I’ve ever heard one,” I hear come from the front porch and notice Carson and Levi standing there.

“Hey, guys,” I say to them.

“You,” Carson says pointing at Emory. “I don’t like seein’ my woman cry, and she’s so worried about you that she does nothin’ but cry. Fix it,” he says as he walks inside. Levi nods at us and follows his brother inside of the house.

“I don’t think me talking to her is going to ‘fix it’,” Emory says. I happen to agree with her, so doing what I can to be there for her, I grab her hand and escort her into the house.