KATE
I wake with goosebumps surfacing on my arms and legs. It’s been one of the side effects of my treatment, my blood thinning which makes it so I get cold more frequently. I feel as if I’m always snuggled under a mound of blankets and no number of sweaters or hoodies will warm me.
Weston has been great through this whole thing. He’s been by my side the entire time, even when I’ve begged and pleaded for him to give me space. I despise him seeing me like this and I hate looking weak in his eyes. But that’s exactly what I’ve become-weak, or at least weaker.
I haven’t told anyone this, but last time I held Charlie, it was a struggle. She squirmed a ton and is putting on more weight every day; it’s just getting harder. I don’t know what the chemo drugs are doing to me, but nothing becomes any easier the longer I get them pumped into my system.
It kills me that all the things I should be able to do as a new mother, I can’t. I feel like I’m being deprived of this magical time with my daughter and it really cuts me deep. I want to look back on this years from now and reminisce on all the beautiful times we shared when she was a baby. It’s becoming more difficult to see the positives, not for lack of trying.
Hospital visits eat up all my time and, when they don’t, the aftermath of the drugs leave me exhausted and sleepy. I’m in a constant battle to keep my eyes open.
When my husband isn’t with me, he’s with our daughter. He’s seeing all these milestones she’s reaching and I’m missing every single one of them. I almost feel like a stranger to my own child.
I cough into my bent elbow and lay my head back against the couch. Our dog, Callie, is resting her fluffy black head in my lap, moving her eyebrows back and forth at the TV screen as if she truly understands the movie playing. She’s always been a smart dog, so it really wouldn’t surprise me if she did understand what was going on.
I look down at her and suddenly feel sadness because, with the pregnancy and cancer, I’ve barely paid her any attention. She isn’t a needy puppy; she pretty much only sleeps or eats, but still. She’s like my child, too, and yet she’s been forgotten as if she doesn’t matter.
“I’m sorry, baby girl.” I kiss her head and rub lightly behind her ears with my nails. She looks at me, her tongue dangling from the side of her mouth, and I laugh. “You’re a good girl.”
I cough again, feeling as if I have a hair stuck in the back of my throat. The coughing doesn’t help; instead I get caught in a coughing fit, my eyes welling with the build-up of tears threatening to spill over onto my cheeks. I reach over and grab my glass of ice water and start chugging it mid-cough, in hopes that my coughing will eventually dwindle.
Callie’s ears perk up and she watches me intently, looking as if she’s trying to gauge whether anything’s wrong. She pops her little nose into my face, sniffing.
“I’m okay, sweet girl.” I smile at her, still trying to keep from coughing, but failing. She looks at me, her little eyebrows moving at my words. Obviously, I don’t ease her worries because, out of nowhere, she starts barking incessantly. I jump at her loud, squeaky yapping. “Damn, Cal. No barking.” Cough, cough. “You know better.” She doesn’t let up.
The coughing continues and I give up trying to calm her down as I grip my glass of water in my hand. I bring it to my lips and feel the water washing down my throat.
It feels good.
“What’s Callie’s problem?” Wes asks, entering the room and I sigh.
Space. I need space.
“Nothing.” I say before I start coughing again. Weston’s eyes narrow, pinning me with his gaze.
“You’re coughing.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious. Your deduction skills are mind blowing.” I glare back at him. I don’t know why, but I’ve been so pissed and irritable lately with everything and everyone. ‘Roid Rage’ is what I think another cancer patient I met called it?
“What if you’re getting sick?” he asks, his brows furrowing in thought. He runs his hand over his bald head before looking towards the ground.
“I’m not. I just got Callie’s hair in my throat.” I’m not totally sure that’s the truth, but I just need some breathing room. Weston doesn’t look like he believes me, but he doesn’t say another word as he stares into my eyes. He nods slightly before pivoting and walking from the room.
Thank goodness.
“Traitor dog.” I hiss at Callie, who tilts her head at me quizzically before turning in a couple circles and plopping down beside me again, resuming her position with her head in my lap.
We both sit there, watching the actors move across the screen, but it’s hard to focus or pay any attention with my body this tired. I feel like I’ve run a damn marathon, but I haven’t even left the couch except to pee. I’m so out of shape; if only the other dancers could see me now.
~*~
I wake knowing something isn’t right. I have shortness of breath and my breathing is coming out in a wheezy gasp. I go to stand and my arms sag to my side, feeling very much like a dead weight dragging me to the ground.
I take quick breaths to try to stay calm, but the more I struggle to breathe, the more I begin to panic.
Being a dancer, I’m more in tune with my body than the average person. Right now, my gut is screaming to call Weston. I open my mouth to call him, but no sound comes out.
I’m so scared.
Tears begin to stream down my cheeks as I look over at Callie. I motion to her, flailing my arms around and gasping for air, hoping that for once she understands what I’m saying. Right on cue, her yappy barking commences and, in a matter of seconds, Weston comes barreling into the room.
With one look at me, his entire demeanor changes. He hollers to his mom to watch Charlotte as he comes to me, lifting me and rushing me to the car.
I curl up in the front seat, realizing for the first time since I’ve begun treatments how small I’ve gotten. My entire body fits comfortably into a ball with plenty of extra room to spare. It wasn’t always like that.
“Stay calm, Katie Kat. Just breathe.” He speaks calmly to me.
It doesn’t help.
WESTON
The minute I rush into the ER, they take her from my arms. They lead Kate out of my sight and behind two swinging white doors. My heart is racing and I’m utterly terrified.
This is the first time that I ever saw anything resembling fear in Kate’s eyes. She doesn’t normally show even the smallest sign of weakness.
When I looked at her, I saw the weight of the world on her shoulders. What I saw dancing in her blue orbs was what no spouse wants to see when watching their loved one battle a life-threatening disease- resignation.
Kate better not be giving up.
She fucking promised.
~*~
I sit in the waiting room, waiting. No one has come out to see me or update me on Kate’s progress. It’s pissing me off and worrying me all at once.
I keep tapping my fingers on the armrest of the chair to distract me from focusing on the clock hanging on the wall. Each minute passing pushes me further into restlessness. I can’t help the jitters as I stand up and begin pacing back and forth, my hands tucked firmly into my pockets.
I’m not sure how long I’m leaving skid marks in the carpet, but eventually the doctor comes out from behind the two swinging doors. He pulls his hospital mask from his face, with his lips set in a grim line. I automatically jump to the worst-case scenario possible- she didn’t make it.
“Kate’s stable for the time being.” I breathe a sigh of relief, running my hand over my bald head. “As we discussed previously, Kate’s immune system has weakened. Due to that, she became more vulnerable and susceptible to infection.”
“Fuck.” I grumble. I knew she’d been coughing a lot. My gut screamed at me to take her in immediately, but I let her talk me out of it. I let my wife- the woman who never shows any signs of defeat or weakness- convince me that she was okay when she clearly wasn’t.
I’m a damn fool.
“Our biggest concern is her fever. We managed to lower it slightly, but it’s still higher than it should be. We’ve given Kate a large dose of antibiotics that should help combat the infection and we have also admitted her to the oncology unit, where we can keep a closer eye on her.”
“Can I see her?” I need to see her for myself. After watching her gasp for air and seeing the look of resignation in her eyes, there is nothing that can convince me otherwise. I need to see my wife to believe that she will be okay.
“While we’re fighting to rid Kate of this infection, we have to limit the amount of people that she’s going to come in contact with. For her well-being, we don’t recommend that she has any visitors at this time.”
I nod, understanding what he’s saying, but still an overwhelming sense of anger rushes through me. There’s a barrier between me and the woman I love and, while I know she’s very sick and needs to heal, I can’t help but feel selfish for needing her.
KATE
It’s become easier to breathe, but still I feel like I’ve been run over by a Mack truck. My body hurts, but more than anything, it’s exhausted. Each movement is a task and I can’t bring myself to even lift a finger. Weston still hasn’t come to see me and it makes me sad. I need him in a way that no person should need anybody else. But he isn’t here. Instead, I’m all alone, with the occasional nurse entering my room to check my stats along with the various machines I’m hooked up to.
Silent tears spring to my eyes and, for the first time since I met him, I feel unloved. A part of me whispers that Weston would never treat me like this, but an even bigger part of me- the one that took the abuse from my parents- screams that I’m not worth it.
My body shakes as the tears uncontrollably rush from my eyes. I squeeze them closed as a nurse enters the room, evening out my breathing and pretending to be asleep.
It’s hard being in this position to not think about dying. I don’t want to, but I guess it’s always a possibility when a life-shattering disease is coursing through your veins.
Is all the struggle really worth it? The change of lifestyle, the treatments, the pain and surgeries, the heartache you and your family have to bear day in and day out?
I’m not so sure that it is.
I promised Charlie that I wouldn’t give in to this disease and I won’t stop fighting for a life where I get to be her mom. But I’ve also realized something important that I hadn’t up until now.
My spirit and will to live may be strong enough, but maybe my body just might not be.
~*~
“Katie Kat.” I feel shaking and I don’t feel like waking up, but Weston’s voice has an enchanting allure over me. I need to see him, touch him, listen to his voice as it calms the restlessness I’ve been feeling within me.
I open my eyes to my husband and I sit up quickly and throw my arms around his neck, wincing at the tug from the IV. “Careful, love. Let me look at you.”
“No.” I mutter, refusing to move from his arms. It feels right. It feels home. If I could bottle his affection and the feeling that being in his arms gives me, I’d be a trillionaire.
He leans his head back, determined to look me over, and I get an immense urge to look away and shield myself from his view. To me, looking pretty for my husband has always been important. Weston is the reason I woke up early enough every day to do my makeup and hair, even when I was just heading to dance practice to sweat it all off.
“Stop. Don’t hide from me, Katie.” His voice is gentle, yet firm.
I sit back, feeling him look over my body in deep scrutiny; he doesn’t say a word, but I watch him inhale deeply before releasing a large breath. His jaw clenches and his lips remain in a thin line.
“You don’t look healthy, Kate.”
“—Because I’m not, Wes. I’m dying. Every day I am getting worse and I’m scared. What if I can’t make it through this?” Weston looks down at our intertwined fingers and doesn’t answer my question.
Honestly, what could he really say?
“You promised.”
There’s that. I know exactly what he means by those two words. I’ve promised him two things, to focus only on the good and to survive. It’s more difficult than it sounds.
“I know. It’s so hard, though. I feel my body giving out on me and it’s hard to focus on the future when I’m struggling every damn minute of every damn day.”
“Kate, relax.” His lips brush my forehead lightly. “All we can do is take it by minute, hour and day. There’s one thing I need you to know. It’s the thing I’ve known since the day I met you on that beach and I don’t think it’s something you’ve ever truly grasped. You’re a lot stronger than you think you are.”
I sigh and curl into his side. For the first time in days, I feel like I’m going to get a decent night’s sleep. Or in the very least, a power nap.