Paige
TODAY MARKS DAY three of my road to remission. Since I opted to do radiation and chemo at the same time, my days have been long. I’ve completed one dose of internal radiation, which is more complicated than I could have imagined and time consuming.
Time.
It’s all I can think about as they administer the poison that’s supposed to keep me alive. When you’re looking at a shortened life span, you start thinking about how productive things are and if they’re worth it. If this saves me, it’ll be time well spent. If it doesn’t, I’ll wonder what else I could’ve been doing with what little time I have. Hanging out with friends or making a trip to see my parents.
Spending time with Sean.
I know that’s a crappy attitude to have, but I can hear this internal clock ticking down the minutes. And my fear is I’ll have regrets about what I’ve done with my life as it ticks down to zero.
Sean sits across from me as the waitress brings us our breakfast. He thought pancakes from IHOP were a must before we went in for my treatment. Meanwhile, I’m trying not to gag at all the smells assaulting me.
“Random question,” he says.
A smile pulls at my lips. “Go ahead.”
“What’s your most embarrassing moment?”
I think for a second, nothing spectacular jumping out at me. “Gosh, I don’t know. I’m not exactly graceful and do things like trip up a flight of stairs and things like that.” Then it hits me. “Oh! My senior year of high school we took a trip to Washington, D.C. for five days or something like that. To get around the city, we’d ride the metro. I had on one of those flowing peasant skirts that were popular at the time. Well, we all got off and are walking down the platform when the train takes off. There’s a rush of air and it blows my skirt up, showing my bare ass to the entire class. I wanted to die.” My face heats in mortification even after all these years.
Sean chuckles. “Were you not wearing any panties?” His voice drops seductively low, but I know he’s only teasing me.
“I was, but it was a thong.” I cover my face and shake my head. “It was awful.” I take a small bite of my pancakes and swallow it down. “Random question.” Now it’s my turn.
“Shoot,” he mutters with his mouth full.
“What’s your best memory growing up?”
He looks up at the ceiling in deep thought. “My parents did a good job making sure we had plenty of family time and took trips together and stuff. But I think the memory I got the most from was Thanksgiving when I was ten. Mom had signed all of us up to volunteer at a homeless shelter and serve the food.”
His best memory isn’t some lavish trip, fishing with his dad, or winning a big game. No, his best memory is of him helping people. He was giving even at a young age. I didn’t think it was possible, but I think I just fell for him a little more.
“Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t exactly excited about it at first, but when we got there I understood what Mom was trying to teach us. There was a little boy my age, his clothes dirty, eyes sad, and I remembered thinking how lucky I was to be on that side of the serving line. How sometimes where we’re at in life is pure chance. So we made a tradition of it until I went off to college and volunteered every Thanksgiving.”
“Do you still do it?”
He shakes his head. “I make monetary donations to help supply the food, but I haven’t been over there to serve in a long time.”
“We should go next year,” I say.
A reserved smile forms on his face as he looks at me with what can only be described as adoration. “It’s a date.”
I’m only able to eat one pancake before I feel like I could puke. Once Sean pays the bill, we get on our way to the hospital.
“You ready to finish this round of chemo?” he asks me. He’s been nothing but amazing through all of this and I could kick myself for trying to push him away. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through this without him. His positive energy is contagious and makes me truly believe I’m going to win this battle.
“Yep. Then two more days of radiation and I get a twenty day break,” I say with a smile as he drives me to my appointment.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay. Tired, but the nausea medicine they’re giving me seems to be helping.” Before I started it, there was no way I would’ve made it through breakfast without running to the bathroom.
Think positive. It’s the two words I try to repeat over and over again. I’m not always successful, but Sean told me maintaining a positive attitude would make all the difference, and I know he’s right.
“Good,” he says. “You rock out these last few days and I’ll give you a nice long massage, how’s that?”
I roll my head like I can feel his hands on my body already. He has been there for me emotionally, but our intimate relationship has been put on hold. Sex isn’t a possibility with the stent in place for my internal radiation, but even so, sex has been the last thing on my mind. Still, I miss the intimacy and closeness we have when we’re connected in that way.
“Are you thinking about my hands all over you?” he says into my ear. I didn’t even realize we had stopped or that he had moved so close to me. His close proximity sends goose bumps up and down my arms, but his ability to read me makes my heart beat faster.
“Maybe,” I reply nonchalantly.
“Maybe my ass,” he mutters with a grin before getting out of the car and helping me out.
We walk into the hospital and head for radiology. I’ll get another dose of internal radiation before starting my chemotherapy. Like the other two times, I’m only in the room alone for a few minutes before they’re wheeling me out to get dressed.
“How was it?” Sean asks. Every time I come out of that room, he looks different. It’s hard to explain, but with each dose of poison shot through my body, he looks more stressed. The circles under his eyes are more pronounced, the worry lines around them deeper. A pang of guilt hits me that I’m causing this stress to his life.
“Piece of cake.”
He leans down and gives me a kiss before leading me out of the double doors and toward another office where I’ll get my chemotherapy.
Once I’m taken back, I’m in a large room with several large chairs placed in a circle. There are three other patients. Two of them are alone, reading books they brought with them. The other person is an older man, his hair gone and body frail. A woman I assume is his wife sits beside him and holds his hand faithfully.
Sadness consumes me and the backs of my eyes sting, but not for the man. I want to cry for his wife. She’ll be the one to carry the burden of his absence. The one to feel the loneliness and heartache long after he’s gone. The rest of her life will be spent with a void no one else can fill.
As I take a seat, I look at Sean. Sure we haven’t been together as long as I’m guessing this couple has, but can I selfishly burden him with such pain?
“Last dose for twenty days,” Sean says against my temple before kissing me. My eyes close as I absorb the comfort he provides.
I need him. It’s never been more apparent than now. He’s my rock, and I can’t lose that.
We’ve been sitting here for two hours already, but have four more to go. I let out a long yawn as I snuggle down into the recliner they have me in. “Tell me a joke.”
He looks up from the emails he was sorting through on his phone. “I think you underestimate the time and effort that is put in to the delivery of each joke I tell you. It’s hard to be this funny.”
Soft laughter leaves me. “Oh, I’ll bet you put in countless hours.”
“I do,” he says, mock offense rolling off of him. It only makes me laugh more. He looks back down at his phone and I think that’s the end of it when he says, “Why couldn’t Barbie ever get pregnant?”
“Why?” I ask, trying to hide my grin.
“Because Ken came in a different box.”
My eyes widen and my mouth falls open, hoping the other people in the room didn’t hear him. “Sean!” I slap his arm, which only makes him chuckle. “You’re disgusting.”
“Hey, on short notice I have to revert back to my old ways.” His hands go up as he shrugs. “What did Cinderella say when she got to the ball?”
“What?” I ask timidly, halfway afraid to know.
“Nothing, she just gagged a bit.”
“Oh my God! You’re awful!”
“It got you to laugh and smile.” He reaches over and holds my hand.
He’s right. It did get me to laugh, which is what I needed.
“I love you,” I say, catching him a little off guard. It’s rare I initiate declarations of affection, but that doesn’t mean I feel it any less.
“I love you too, gorgeous. Always.”
My head leans back and I close my eyes, picturing a day where cancer is no longer at the forefront of our minds, and treatments aren’t an everyday occurrence.
When I open them, Sean is pinching the bridge of his nose then goes back to pecking away at his phone. He’s focused, and judging by the force behind each tap, frustrated too. The dark circles around his eyes have become more prominent as he stays up late to work because he’s here with me during the day. He internalizes the strain it’s putting on him, but I see it anyway.
“Sean, if you need to go to the office to get some work done, I still have a while longer until I can leave. Why don’t you go and come pick me up later?”
“I’m right where I wanna be. Plus, I kind of have an in with the CEO, so I think I’m fine.” He winks and it goes straight to my heart even if I’m not convinced everything is okay.
“What are you so frustrated about over there then?”
He shakes his head with a sigh. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Ah, yes. I forgot. I’m a woman and my place is in the kitchen.” I try to keep the grin off my face, but my lips start to twitch.
His expression falls as he looks at me less than amused. “You’re too much sometimes, you know that?” I don’t think he wants an actual response, so I wait for him to tell me what’s pissing him off. “I don’t want to bitch about the office idiots to you.”
My eyebrows pull in. “Why not?”
“Compared to what you’re going through, it’s trivial. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but it’s something that requires my attention or my dad will be on my ass about it.”
For all the times I thought he was a complete ass over the years, he sure has shown me how wrong I was. He is the most caring and considerate guy I’ve ever met, and I love him for it. “Please. It’ll be nice to hear someone else’s problems for a change.” I plead with my eyes, wanting him to talk about something mundane and trivial to make me feel normal.
And he does.
He lets out a sigh. “Our regional manager out in our western division has missed hitting his quarterly numbers for the second time in a row. At first, I thought it could be a geography issue since places like California were hit the hardest during the housing crisis, but I don’t think that’s the case.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve been researching different markets and there are all kinds of opportunities for him to be meeting our standards, but he’s just not doing it. His loan officers should be loaning out way more money than they are, but I can’t figure out why.” Sean rubs the back of his neck and I can tell this issue is a point of frustration for him. I wish there was a way for me to help, but I’m a little out of my element here.
“How long has he been with the company? Maybe it’s a training issue,” I suggest.
He shakes his head. “He’s been in his current position for three years. He knows how to do his job or he wouldn’t have it. Anyway, I’ve been asking him for detailed summaries of the numbers he’s provided me and he has yet to send them my way. I want to see if there are particular branches in his area performing poorly, or if it’s his region as a whole.”
“Do you think he’s hiding something?”
“I have no idea, but it’s starting to feel that way.”
Sean explains how a guy in his regional manager’s position could be caught skimming from the top and doctoring the books to cover his tracks. I’d assume there were certain procedures in place to stop something like that, but he tells me there are always ways around safe guards.
As he talks through the situation, I see the weight being lifted off of his shoulders. It’s like he just needed someone to vent to, and I’m glad that person was me. I was able to help him, but also lose myself in something insignificant that isn’t life or death.