Chapter 12
Elise
I had walked into the apartment to a blaring TV and a sleeping Ford. I knew he hadn’t been sleeping well because I’d felt him tossing and turning. I had gotten used to getting too little sleep too, but it was starting to weigh on me.
I lightly tapped him after putting down my purse on the coffee table and turning down the TV.
“Ford, baby … I’m home.”
I had been working at the coffee shop since I started my second year of school, and I had really enjoyed it. It was fast paced and kept me on my toes. I didn’t make much money, but I was able to help a little. Ford had always taken care of everything although we butted heads on that for a long time when I first moved in. It didn’t feel right, but he said his parents would have paid for it when he was in school, so what was the difference?
Ford had always thought about our future, and I was thankful for that. I saw the seriousness of his feelings for me, and that made it even clearer that he wasn’t playing the games a lot of college guys—hell, even high school guys—played. He was unique and one of a kind. Levelheaded and stubborn at the same time. The reason I loved him was the very same that drove me crazy.
I sat beside him as he lay dead to the world.
I ran my hand along his face and then down his back lightly.
He whimpered quietly as if he was in a deep sleep.
I observed as he slept peacefully until he wasn’t anymore.
He sat up, looking at me as if I had created a crime or violated him in some way.
“When did you get home?”
“Just a few minutes ago. You okay?”
“No … I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, and I feel like complete shit.”
I sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to say something that might make him feel better.
He stood and almost pushed me away in a smooth pursuit to avoid me.
“Can’t we talk for a minute? I just got home from work and wanted to spend time with you.”
“I’m tired, Elise.”
“You are always tired. Did you work today?”
“I’ve already taken a leave of absence.”
“I know, but I thought you would miss the boys on the team and go in to—”
“You’re wrong.” His voice wasn’t Ford. He was standing in front of me, but it was as if a complete stranger was talking.
I watched him, trying to figure out what I was saying that was making him so mad at me.
“I’m just worried—”
“Just stop! Stop worrying.”
“I can’t. I love you, Ford. I want to— I’m scared … What if we don’t have time to do all the things we want to do? What if we don’t get to spend …”
“Elise, I am exhausted. I don’t want to talk right now. Please …”
I walked toward him, and he put his hands on his hips, showing he wasn’t relenting.
I wanted to touch him and bring him back to reality.
“Do you want me to wake you …?”
“NO! I want to sleep and be left alone. I have a disease that is literally eating at me. I feel it, Elise. I can’t … I won’t … I need to sleep and be left ALONE!”
I started to weep as I watched him turn his back to me and walk into our room, slamming the door. The picture we had taken right after we had married fell and the glass shattered on the ground.
Symbolic? Yeah, I would say so.
*****
With all the stress, my body hadn’t been the same. I wasn’t too concerned about it due to lack of appetite and sleep but knew I had better get it checked out. I hadn’t felt like myself in a long time, but then again, who would while going through her husband being sick and the added stress.
I made it to my appointment just in time without mentioning it to Ford. The last thing I needed was for him to worry about me.
“Are you eating?”
“Some.”
“Are you sleeping?”
“Not really.”
“Have you had any stressors in your life that would make you feel bad or stress you?”
Yes, you could say that I wanted to say but thought better of it. “My husband has a brain tumor.”
Dr. Allerd looked at me with pity, fighting for words, but instead, she said none. She slid her stool closer to me and took my hand.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Elise.”
“Me too.” And I was. Everything was screwed up; nothing was going as planned.
“I don’t understand why this is happening. He has made me the happiest I have ever been in my life. We were just about to move back to Humble and start our lives together. And now this … and what if he doesn’t get better? He isn’t listening to the doctor; he doesn’t want me to go through anything with him and is trying to protect me, but he is making it worse.”
“I see,” she said.
“I don’t think you do. I am losing my mind. I am trying to hold it together, but he is falling apart. We fight; he doesn’t want to leave the house. He is pulling so far from me that I fear that … he doesn’t love me anymore.”
She didn’t say a word but continued to listen.
“After moving here four years ago, everything was crystal clear. For the first time in my entire life, I was happy. I was Elise like I had never known her. And then I met Ford, and he made me the happiest woman alive. I learned what it was like to love someone and trust someone, and I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.”
“Hmmmm …” She paused. “Would you have done anything differently since moving here if you knew that this would happen?”
“Not a single thing,” I said and fought the urge to cry.
“The majority of my patients say that, Elise. Do you know why?”
I shook my head.
“Because we all live day by day. And if you are lucky enough to fall in love, you take it for what it is worth. You don’t ask what the risks are or what could happen. You embrace it. From what you have told me, you might have a sick husband, and I am truly sorry for that, but you have a man who loves you, and you love him. Give him a little credit. I always ask my patients to put themselves in the other person’s shoes. How would they handle it? And usually, they tell me that they would do the same thing. We all have defense mechanisms, and that is what it sounds like your husband is doing. He is trying to shield you.”
I already knew that because Ford had promised to always protect me, and he felt like he wasn’t able to anymore.
“And I would like to get you started on an antidepressant. It will help. I do want to go ahead and do some bloodwork on you, though, as well just to make sure you are not anemic or have anything else that would be causing you to be sleep deprived, etcetera, just as a general precaution. I will write you the script, but don’t start it until you hear from me in a couple of days.”
“Okay …”
“And Elise, I will be praying for you and your husband. I see births and deaths every day; things I can’t figure out no matter how hard I try. But I also see miracles. We have to believe in that sometimes, don’t we?”
“Yes ma’am, we sure do. And I can think nothing less …”
“Good.”