Pistachio, Chocolate, Nectarine, and a Brownie.
Author: Peanut
Prompts: Pistachio #1 - Meeting, Nectarine #7 - "The road to a friend's house is never long" and Chocolate #3 - sympathy
Extras: Brownie
Story: The Life of a Sarcastic Teenage Cancer Patient
Rating: PG
Word Count: Er... 7410. IT'S WORTH IT I PROMISE. Well, I think it's worth it. I kind of have to think it's worth it. Wanna make my day? Read it anyways.
Bald is beautiful. Those were the first words that hit me as I was wheeled onto the pediatric oncology ward of the hospital. Below the words was a picture of four kids, ranging in age from what looked like about four to seventeen. All of them were bald. As much as I wanted to look away, I couldn't. It was just too intriguing, and at the same time, depressing, because I knew that this picture was depicting what was going to happen to me soon. That as they killed the thing that was killing me, one of my most treasured possessions, the hair that I had been cultivating since I was three was going to have to die as well. I felt my mom squeeze my shoulder as we went past room after room, until we finally reached room 1017. “Here it is,” a nurse by the name of Olga announced.
I swallowed, and looked up at both of my parents. This was it. Olga pushed the door open. It was one of those sturdy, heavy-duty hospital doors that look like they could quite possibly put you in the hospital themselves. “I'm sorry we didn't have a single room available,” she apologized. “We usually like to put the newly diagnosed in a single, but what with it being flu season, there's been a lot of hospitalizations that needed their own room.
We've actually began overflowing,” Olga smiled sheepishly, and my mom tried to return it.
Why were these kids coming to the hospital for the flu? It's not like it was a matter of life or death. Just the flu. I'd just started going through all of the possibilities to what the nurse had meant when a voice came from behind the curtain dividing the room. “Olg, didja bring me a new roomie?”
“Sure did, Alyssa. This is Sarah,” Olga said, pulling back the curtain.
A smiling, bald girl waved. She couldn’t have been much older than me. “Hi! I'm Alyssa. You can call me Al though.”
I nodded, a bit overwhelmed. I could feel the discomfort from my parents. It hadn't been a full twenty four hours since we'd found out that I had a tumor the size of a tennis ball on my shoulder. And here it was, the shocking, bringing-us-crashing-out-of-our-dreams-that-this-was-a-dream-and-right-back-into-the-cold-reality reminder that everything in our entire lives had just been changed for good. They helped me out of the chair, and into the bed. My eyes drifted towards the clock as I lowered my body onto the foam mattress. How had it gotten to be nine o'clock at night already? It seemed like not even an hour ago, it was noon, and Dr. Harris was telling me that I was sick.
“Well, yeah, I kinda figured,” I smiled at her. “That's why I came to see you. What's the antibiotic?”
Dr. Harris looked pained, and she shot my mom a look. She'd pulled her in to talk to her before me, probably to check on the billing thing. I'm seventeen now, but they still don't like to talk about money in front of me. “Sarah, this isn't going to be fixed with antibiotics. You're not that kind of sick. We're going to admit you to the hospital.”
“What, are you saying it's all in my head? I swear, there might be a lot of stress going on, but all high school juniors are feeling it. I'm not crazy!” It seemed almost comical to me now that that was where my mind had gone.
Dr. Harris smiled a little. “No, this isn't all in your head. That's not what I'm saying.”
“Sweetie, what Dr. Harris is trying to say -” My mom interjected. Somehow, I'd missed the tears that were pouring silently down her face. She let out a small sob.
“What's going on?” I asked, a blanket question for the room.
“Sarah, you have cancer.”
As soon as she let the words out, I turned to my mom for confirmation. More out of reflex than anything. I could already tell that the doctor was telling the truth. But it wasn't real until Mom admitted it. It couldn't be real.
A flock of people came in then, bringing me back to the present. “Hey there, Sarah.” A few doctors I recognized from earlier tried to make contact, but I wasn't going to reciprocate. Hadn't they done enough today? I still tried to smile, not wanting to seem rude, but my face felt heavy, and I was sure my smile wasn't as successful as I would've liked it to been. The group formed a semi-circle at the foot of the bed, and went around introducing themselves. I probably should've paid attention, at least tried to remember their names, but I couldn't bring myself to even look them in the eye for more than a minute. I could feel Alyssa watching me until one of the doctors pulled the curtain shut. “So, Sarah, does that sound good to you?” The head doctor, a woman with a short brown haircut smiled at me.
“Uh... Sure?” I replied, unsure of what I was agreeing to. I didn't want to let them know I hadn't been paying attention.
“Good. We'll be by in the morning, and give you the time of the surgery. You can eat something now, but don't eat anything after midnight, all right?”
Surgery? What the hell? I nodded towards them as they left the room, a few getting in a couple more pokes and prods to make sure I was still breathing, I guess. As soon as they'd left, I turned to my parents. “What are they doing to me tomorrow?”
“Don't worry, sweetie. It's just a biopsy of the tumor, and they're going to place something called a port-o-catheter. It'll make it so you don't have to get IV's every time.” My dad said, brushing his fingers through my hair. “Very routine. You have nothing to worry about...” Besides having cancer. The words were unspoken, but they hung in the air like a cloud of toxic gas.
I grabbed his hand, and then my mom's, squeezing them. They both stood there, looking at me with the sad cancer eyes for a few minutes. “It's gonna be okay.” I found myself promising them. “We'll get through it.”
Dad pulled away first. “How bout we get something to eat?” He asked, and when he turned away to look for his cell phone, I saw him move his hands up to his face as if he were crying. But that couldn't... My dad never cried. Ever. But when he turned back around, his eyes were glossy. “How does chinese sound?” He choked, trying to keep his voice level.
“Chinese sounds great, Dad.” I grabbed his hand again while he called, and he smiled down at me, tears running freely now.
We sat in silence for a few minutes. The Chinese place delivered to the hospital, and Olga assured us that the front desk would call up when they arrived. After about five minutes, I decided I couldn't take the loaded silence,
and I turned on the TV. Starting to flip through the channels, I stopped when I got to a showing of House. This had always been one show that my family would sit down and watch together, and it seemed rather ironic that it would come on now. On the other side of the room, I heard Alyssa - sorry, Al - switch her television on, as well, and turned it to the same channel. At least she had good taste. We sat for a little while longer, until one of the nurses poked her head in and informed us that the deliveryman was waiting downstairs. Mom went to her purse and handed my dad a few bills. He squeezed my hand one last time, and left the room to get our food. He was back by the next commercial, and we dished out the food, only talking to ask each other what the other wanted.
“Do you want some, Alyssa?” Mom asked, and Al shook her head.
“No thanks,” she smiled at us. “I already ate tonight. The hospital food here is surprisingly good.”
Mom nodded, and turned back to House.
... ... ...
Somewhere along there, I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, it was nine thirty in the morning, and my mom was trying to silently walk back in the door. “Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry!” She apologized, seeing my eyes open. “I didn't want to wake you up. You looked like you needed your sleep, and…” Her voice just trailed off.
“It's fine Mom, don't worry about it.” I assured her. “Where's Dad?”
“He went back home after you fell asleep last night. There wasn't enough room in here for the both of us, and I wanted to stay. He'll be here soon.”
I nodded. “Okay. Have you seen the doctors yet?” If they were going to be cutting into me anytime soon, I wanted to know about it.
“They're starting rounds soon, so they should be coming by in a while. Dr. Jones promised they'd start at this end of the ward so that we wouldn't have to wait too long.” She sat down in the chair next to my bed. “This thing folds out, did you know that?”
I laughed a little. “That's pretty cool, Mom. Can I have a sip of your coffee?”
She fidgeted. “Uh... Honey, remember? You're not allowed to eat or drink anything.”
Damn. This was going to get old fast. “Oh. Right.”
“I'll leave the room to finish, if you want.”
I forced another smile. “No, don't even worry about it. I'm not that hungry anyways.”
“Okay... Just let me know, okay?” She still looked skeptical as I clicked the TV back on.
“I hate talk shows,” I grumbled. “I'm going to be pissed if they don't have MTV or VH1 here.”
“They do!” Al's voice chirped from behind the curtain. “Channels forty-one and forty-two, if you're interested.”
“Thanks.” Jesus, I wonder if I could get away with a Wizard of Oz type thing. Pay no attention to the girl behind the curtain.
I looked up as I heard the door creak open. It was my dad, and he was chatting animatedly with a nurse. “You've gotta keep an eye on her,” he was warning her. “She's not very good about letting people know when she's in pain, but she gets crabbier by the minute when she's in a lot of it. That's when you know to give her something.” By the second sentence, I knew he was talking about me.
“Dad!” I exclaimed, wishing that I had something other than an IV pole near me so I could throw something at him. “What the hell?”
“See?” He asked. It was like I wasn't even there. “Crabbier by the minute.”
Well, now that he mentioned it, my shoulder was killing me. But that was besides the point. “Hi Sarah, I'm Brittany. I'll be your nurse today, all right?” I shrugged, and she continued talking. “Are you in any pain?”
“No.” I caved when I saw both my parents glaring at me. “Fine. Yeah. My shoulder hurts.” Like a bitch, I wanted to add, but there was no way I'd get away with that in front of my parents.
“On a scale of one to ten, how high is your pain? Ten being the highest, one being no pain at all.”
“Ugh, really?” I grimaced. “I'm in pain! Does it matter how much?”
“Sarah!” Mom chastised.
“Sorry.” I grumbled. “I don't know... An eight, maybe?”
Brittany made a note. “All right. I'll get you some painkillers. You're not allergic to anything, right?”
I shook my head. “Isn't that in my medical records?” This time, I made sure to keep my voice low enough that no one could hear. I still got the satisfaction out of saying it, though.
“Okay. I'll be right back with some morphine for you.”
As soon as she left the room, my mom turned to me. “What?” I snapped.
“Don't you start with me, Sarah. I know you're hurting, and I know you're upset. But you don't need to -”
“Upset? Why would I be upset, Mom? It's not like there's anything wrong, right? Oh wait, right, there's that fact that I'm missing school. And I'm going to lose all my hair. And spend the next year feeling sick. And I mean, I guess you could also throw in the fact that I have cancer in that mess of things going wrong.”
Mom took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “Sarah, I'm not saying you don't have lots of reason to be upset. All I'm saying is that the poor woman is just trying to help you feel better. You could at least not snap at her.”
“Whatever.” I mumbled, curling up into the fetal position. I didn't want her to be mad at me, but she could've been more understanding. I mean, she was my mom. Isn't she supposed to be on my side?
Dad, ever the peacekeeper, started rubbing my back. “I know it hurts, hun,” he murmured. “But you've gotta stay strong, okay? The nurses are just trying to help, and we don't wanna get on their bad sides now, do we? They've got all the good drugs.”
He was trying to make a joke. It worked. I let out a small giggle, and turned back over. “How do you make this thing sit up?”
“Controls on the side bars!” There was the Wizard again.
Instead of taking the annoyed approach I was, my parents actually seemed to appreciate her input. “Good morning, Al!” My dad called, and walked over to open the curtain. “How are you... Er... You okay?” Quite the wordsmith.
“Thanks, Mr. M. I'm good. Got a good nights sleep.” Alyssa smiled at me, and I grimaced back. Regardless of the fact that I didn't want to talk to her, I also didn't want to seem rude. I hoped she thought it was the pain, since she obviously could hear the entire conversation I just had.
Brittany came back in then, carrying a small plastic cylinder and a small machine that she attached above the fluids IV machine. “Here you go, sweetie.” She smiled. “You should be feeling better in a matter of minutes. If the morphine hurts going in, just tell me. It might be time for a new IV.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
“No problem, Sarah. It's my job to make you feel better. Just ring me if there's any problem,” she said, looking first at me, and then to my parents. “The docs should be in any minute, they're just finishing up in the next room.” She left the room as my parents thanked her, waving a small goodbye. Maybe she wasn't so bad.
True to her word, the pain started dissipating. My eyelids became droopy, and nothing seemed half as bad as it had before. I yawned. Dad took one look at me, and started giggling. “What?” I accused, and then giggled a bit myself. My voice sounded funny.
“Liz, look at this. She's high as a kite.” Mom started laughing, too, as Dad pointed to my eyes.
I couldn't even care that they were making fun of me. I just wanted to close my eyes. Unfortunately, the doctors chose that exact moment to walk in. There were less than last night, but no new doctors. “Hey Sarah, how's it going?” Again, with the trying to relate.
“I'm alright,” I said, giggling again at my voice.
“She just got some morphine,” my dad explained, still grinning.
“Ahh,” the woman with the brown bob smiled. “Alright, we'll try to make this quick then. I don't know if you
remember me, but I'm Dr. Carson.”
I nodded. I didn't remember her, really, but nodding seemed like the right thing to do. “Good,” Dr. Carson smiled again. “So, we're going to try and get you down to surgery today, around noon. We'll place the port, and get a biopsy of that tumor on your shoulder. We think it's a sarcoma, but we'll know for sure what type after some tests.” I nodded again. “I'm sure you're wondering why we're not doing a surgery to take it out.” Actually, I wasn't, but whatever. “Your tumor is too big, and too close to your spinal cord. We don't want to risk any damage. Any other questions?” Shake of the head this time. “So, that's about it. Mom, Dad, we'll probably come find you a bit later, maybe while Sarah's in surgery and talk about treatment plans.”
Dr. Carson gestured to a younger doctor to start talking. “Sarah, I'm Dr. Jones. Do you mind if I take a listen?” He asked, holding up a stethoscope.
I shook my head, and he pressed it to my chest. Why was it that whenever doctors did this, their breath always smelled bad? You'd think someone would've given them a breath mint by now. The docs finished up with me, and moved over to Alyssa. I tried not to listen, but it was hard. They were pretty loud. “Hey Al, where's your mom today?”
“Come on now, Dr. C. You know she hates hospitals. I think she was working the night shift last night, anyways.” Alyssa's voice still sounded cheery, but there was a bit of a strain to it. “I'll probably understand everything you tell me more than she would, anyways.”
They all laughed. “Al, I think you understand this better than we do,” one of them joked.
Well, that was comforting. They went on with their exam, and I let my eyes droop. If I couldn't eat, I might as well sleep.
.........
I woke up two hours later, still feeling a bit of a buzz, but the pain was definitely coming back. I glanced at the clock. Only another hour or so until surgery. Looking around, I noted that my parents had both left the room. Brittany walked in, and smiled. “Good! You're awake. We're going to be taking you down to Pre-Op in the next fifteen, twenty minutes, so get ready! You've got to take off all your jewelry, but you can leave it here. It'll be perfectly safe. Your parents asked me to tell you that they just stepped out to get a bite, but they'll be back.”
“They better be,” I muttered. No way in hell was I going to my first surgery alone. Brittany just smiled, and turned to walk out the door. “Wait!” I called.
“Yeah?” She asked, turning back to face me.
“Do you know... Do you know what's going to happen to me?” I asked, unsure of what I meant by that.
If Brittany was, though, she didn't show it. I guess you get a lot of those kinds of questions thrown at you when you work with children who have cancer. “I don't, sweetie. But our success rate is pretty good, if I do say so myself. I think you're going to be just fine.”
I nodded. I seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. But it wasn't like I was going to say anything, or shake my head. I just curled up into a ball, willing myself not to cry. “You're not allowed to cry,” I whispered to myself.
“Everything is going to be fine. Who knows, maybe they'll find out that this isn't cancer after all? They just made a mistake?” Even I wasn't desperate enough to believe that one. I knew they hadn't made a mistake. I repeated my mantra over and over though, as if saying it would make it actually come true.
“Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness you know.” I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Dad! Jesus! What was that?” I accused, my hand on my heart.
“I'm sorry, kiddo. Didn't mean to scare you. You have a nice nap?”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Yes, I did, thank you very much. You guys always seem to disappear while I'm sleeping.”
“Sorry, sweetie. We don't want to leave you while you're awake, though. And it's not like we have a crystal ball telling us when you're going to wake up.”
“I'm just teasing.” Kind of. “Where'd you guys go?”
“Your mother wanted to call up Christian and tell him what's going on.” Dad sighed, and sat down on the edge of my bed. “She should be up in a few minutes. Just telling him a few things to bring.”
“Bring? Bring where?” This was going to a place I didn't want it to go.
“Sarah, you didn't honestly expect your brother not to come visit.”
“Well, I sure as hell don't want him to come see me right now!”
“Why? Sarah, he's always been your best friend. He wants to be here for you. For all of us. We're a family.” Dad looked at me, worry creasing his face.
“Just... Because. I haven't even had time to process. Plus, they're bringing me down to surgery soon. I don't want to act all bitchy with him.” I didn't mention the main reason, that I was sure as soon as Chris got here, I'd be bawling in his arms. He always managed to get what I was feeling out of me, even when no one else did.
“Language, hun. How soon?” And just like that, the topic of Christian was dropped. That's what I liked about my dad. Always knew just when to change the subject.
“I dunno... Ten minutes now maybe? Brittany came in about five minutes ago and said fifteen to twenty minutes.” I glanced up at the clock, and felt like crying. I was so hungry. “Daddy, I'm hungry.”
“I know. Don't worry. It won't be long. Do you want me to get you something to have ready when you get out?”
Dad grabbed my hand.
“Barbecue Fritos. And a Dr. Pepper.”
He crinkled his nose. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“You got your taste in food from your mother.”
“Hope that's not an insult,” Mom breezed in, her face red. I could tell she'd been crying, but if we were going to pretend like nothing was wrong, than so be it.
“Of course not, sweetie. Sarah and I were just talking about what she wanted to eat when she got out of surgery.” My dad moved to kiss her, and I averted my eyes. No matter how old I got, public displays of parental affection were still gross.
Luckily, the door opened yet again, and Brittany was here, two other nurses in tow. “You ready to go under the knife?” She asked, grinning.
“I never thought it'd be for this...” I muttered as they got to work disconnecting me from the various machines and raising the sides of the bed.
After some maneuvering, they managed to roll the bed out of the room, and Brittany waved the other two off.
“Thanks guys. I can take it from here.” They waved, and wished me luck before skittering off to their own patients.
“I assume your father told you Christian is coming up?” Mom asked, holding onto a side rail on the bed.
“Yeah. When's he getting here?” I needed to be able to form a good game face.
“Not until late tonight. There's some paperwork he can't get rid of right now, so he's gotta stay at the station all day. He'll come see you tomorrow morning.” Good. That gives me some time.
“Your mother and I were thinking that maybe after he visits with you, the three of us would go back to the house and get some things for you, since we don't know how long we'll be staying. I'm sure you don't want to stay in those hospital gowns the whole time.” Dad continued her train of thought.
“Boyfriend?” Brittany mouthed to me.
“Brother.” I mouthed back, and groaned. The mere thought of Christian being allowed near my stuff killed me.
Sure, he was twenty-four, but he was still as immature as a twelve year old. God forbid he found anything. He'd tease me about it for the rest of my life. It's not like I had condoms or anything, but still. Chris could make anything humiliating. It was his job as an older brother. Or at least, that's what he'd tell me when I was younger.
The operating room was on the fourth floor, and it took us less than a minute to get there. It also took me less than a minute to get extremely nervous. “Mom, what if something goes wrong?” I asked, tearing my fingers away from her hand to start biting them.
“Sarah, sweetie, these people are very good at their job. They've done this a million times. Nothing will go wrong.” She pulled my fingers out of my mouth, and grasped them again.
Suppressing the urge to scream “how do you know?,” I just squeezed her hand. I'd never been very good at talking about serious stuff like this, especially with my mom. It was just something I couldn't do. Some people can't read or write; I can't talk about my feelings with my mom. Doctors came in and out of the little curtain cubicle, checking my vital signs and IV, asking me to pee in a cup, et-cetera. Guess they wanted to rule immaculate conception out of my host of problems. Finally, though, they were almost ready to roll me in.
“Alright, this might feel a little funny,” a doctor warned, holding up yet another syringe, searching for a place to insert it. When he finally did, I felt the cool liquid run into my veins, and seconds later a feeling of extreme giddiness took over my brain.
“You okay?” Mom asked, searching my face for signs of distress.
“I'm fine Mommy,” I giggled. “You're right. Everything is going to be fine. I love you!”
For a minute, she just stood there, taken aback, before a small grin crossed across her face. “I love you too, Sarah belle. We'll see you when you get out.”
“Okay!” I called, for they were rolling me away. The walls looked funny. Before they brought me into the room, though, I had one more thing to say: “Mommy, make sure Christian doesn't go into my room!”
I heard my parents crack up. I didn't see what was so funny. I was just trying to protect my secrets.
“Sarah, we're going to move you over onto the gurney, okay?” A mask-clad nurse asked.
“Do I have to move myself? `Cause I don't really think that's possible right now.” My voice kept getting further and further away, and my head kept getting fuzzier and fuzzier.
“No, sweetie, we're going to pick you up and place you there. Don't worry about it.”
“You can't!” I gasped. “I'm too heavy!”
There was muffled laughter. “Sarah, we do this all the time. Trust me, we can most definitely roll you over there.”
“Your pain,” I murmured, but they were already moving me. “Whoa!” I exclaimed, trying to sit up and examine my new surroundings. “You did it!”
A new person entered the room. “Hi Sarah, you having fun?” He continued as I yet again nodded. “Good. I'm Dr. Robbins, and I'll be doing your surgery today, okay? I just finished talking to your parents, so we're good to go! We're going to need you to lie back down, though.”
I obliged, and there was a flurry of people above me, attaching various monitors and stickers. “Okay, Sarah, can you count backwards from a hundred for me?” Someone I remembered as the anesthesiologist asked me.
“Why? The tumor is in my shoulder, not my brain. Don't you know what you're...”
.........
“Mom?” I asked, and immediately clutched my throat. “Ow,” I whispered.
“Sarah? Are you awake?” I could feel my brain cells rattling as she spoke.
“Not so loud...”
“Sorry.” She lowered her voice, and the cells slowed to a stop.
“Thanks. How'd it go? Did they do everything?” And god, could I get some water already?
“It was fine. They're running the tests now, but they're pretty sure it's a sarcoma. Probably osteosarcoma. The port's in, and they decided to do a spinal tap while you were under, as well.” She massaged the back of my hand with her thumb. “Is there anything I can get for you?”
“Water?” One word answers seemed best right now.
“Coming right up.” She turned to leave, but I needed to say something else.
“Morphine?” Even I wasn't proud enough to go through this pain without saying anything. Mom nodded, and left the room. I closed my eyes, willing the pain to lessen.
... ... ...
“We've confirmed that it's osteosarcoma, and that the cancer hasn't spread to the spinal cord. This makes it infinitely easier to treat, and there's a lower chance of relapse. The port was placed as close to perfect as it could be. Sarah may experience headaches for the next few days; they're a side affect of the spinal tap. It should go down after a while, and the morphine she's getting will probably keep that pain under control. If the headache's continue for more than three days, we'll start giving her a caffeine drip. For now, just drinking caffeinated sodas or coffee should help as well.”
Ugh. Were they allowed to talk about me without my permission? “Hey!” Double ugh. I don't think anyone could take me seriously with my voice like this.
“Oh, sweetie, you're up!” Dad's head came into view. “Dr. Carson was just telling us about how the surgery went.”
“I know. You couldn't have waited till I woke up? Jeez.” I muttered.
“Glad to see your attitude survived,” he raised an eyebrow at me.
“It's great your sarcasm can come into play even under stress, Dad.”
“Touche.”
Dr. Carson smiled at me. “How are you feeling, Sarah?”
“I'm okay. Sore though.”
“Well, that's to be expected. We're going to move you back up to the floor soon, we just need the surgeon to sign off on it.” Ugh. I could only imagine what kind of advice Al would have for me now.
I closed my eyes yet again, and willed myself over to sleep.
... ... ...
And that was how the rest of my day went. I drifted in and out of sleep, only waking when I needed more morphine, or something to eat. It was a relief not to have a needle poking out of my arm; I could move any which way. When I awoke at seven, I saw that my parents had taken Alyssa's advice and ordered up from the cafeteria. I lifted up the cover of the plate, and saw a plate of spaghetti and French fries, plus the Dr. Pepper and Fritos my dad had promised me. I sat up, only to be pushed back down by a swell of pain in my head. “Note to self: Sitting up - not a good idea.” I grumbled, and carefully reached for the chips, trying not to move the area where I'd gotten the port. That won pain precedence for now. I hit the nurse call button, and was happy to see Brittany bounce through the doorway. She took one look at my grimace, and said, “I'll be right back with some morphine. Just take some deep breaths, and you'll be out of it before you know it.” She spun around on the heel of the clogs every nurse in the place seemed to wear as I began breathing, and I could hear her power walking to the med room. I'd been here long enough, plus seen enough medical television shows, to know that running was generally seen as an emergency. Pretty sure that a bit of pain after a surgery didn't quite fall as high on the scale as a code blue.
True to her word, she was back within minutes, and soon I was, as Dad had put it earlier, “high as a kite.” I felt well enough to sit up a bit, and as I did, my stomach began to growl. Who knew sleeping all day could make you hungry? I shoveled into my spaghetti, barely pausing to chew. I quickly realized that this just made me feel sick, so I slowed down as not to puke. Even though this was probably the best hospital food I'd ever tasted, I bet it didn't taste half as good coming back up. Squirting some ketchup onto the only available space on the entire tray, a napkin; I started eagerly chowing down on the fries. My dad walked in just as I finished and began chugging down the Dr. Pepper.
“I guess you were hungry, huh kiddo?” He teased, eyeing the plate. “And here I was, thinking you'd leave some for me.”
“Nope. That's what happens when I'm deprived of food all day. I get hungry - imagine that!” Even if my body was physically suffering, at least my sarcasm wasn't. That was still alive and well.
Dad just shrugged. “Probably a good thing I got McDonald's while you were sleeping, then, huh?”
“Auuughh.”
“What?”
“That's the sound of me hitting your shoulder. I can't actually move my arm right now, so I figured the sound effects would get your attention.” I grinned, and he just shook his head.
“You're a freak. Mom'll be back in a few minutes; she's going to get going soon. Christian said he should be home by eight thirty, and she wants to make sure his room has clean sheets.” Dad explained, taking the seat next to me. “Anything good on TV?”
“I dunno. You just came in a few minutes after I woke up. I haven't checked.”
We flipped through the channels, until we found a channel that was playing Hitch, one of Will Smith's funnier romantic comedies. “Dad, it's a really good thing you can actually stand these types of movies.” I commented.
“Yeah? Why?” It took him a couple of minutes to tear his eyes from the screen.
“Because I have a feeling we're going to be watching a lot of them.”
He faked a groan, but I knew he was okay with it. Dad had always been an old softie. It had just gotten to the part where Will Smith's character had sent Eva Mendes's character a walkie-talkie when Mom came in. “Ugh, not this movie again.” For whatever reason, she couldn't stand Will Smith, something Dad and I simply could never understand. “Is it okay with you that I'm leaving, Bear?”
“It's fine Mom,” I gave her a gentle grin, trying to communicate how much I appreciated the use of my childhood nickname. “Go be with Christian for a while. Dad and I will probably just hang out with Will Smith all night; you're not gonna miss much.”
“Well, if Will Smith is in the picture, then I'm definitely leaving!” Her tight grin turned into a real one, and you could tell she was proud of herself for being able to make a joke right now. Working under pressure had never been her strong suit.
I just laughed, and we sent her on her way. Dad opened the curtain and chatted with Al for a bit, and she turned Hitch on as well. Yet another thing we had in common. Maybe I'd have to talk to her once I felt better. Who knows, she might be able to help me get a lay of the land. And I'd get her on my side before Chris could fully humiliate me. In the morning, though. I don't think I could handle it tonight. I mean, come on. I'd just gone under the knife for the first time in my entire life. Which, I have to admit, was pretty good. Christian had surgery when he was eleven, to get his appendix out. I beat him there. I could lord that over him, at least.
After Hitch, we found a channel playing Knocked Up. “I can't believe that I'm watching this with my daughter...” My dad shook his head in dismay.
“Why not?” I asked, indignant. “I'm seventeen! I'll be eighteen in February! I'm totally legal.” He shot me a look. “Oh. That was one of those 'I can't believe I'm getting so old' things, wasn't it?”
Dad sighed. “I'm going to pretend that was just the drugs talking, and that you aren't actually in control of your speech. Because if you were, I'd have to accept the fact that you just called me old.”
“Did I? Oh... Uh... I meant, Dad, you don't look a day over twenty-five!” I remedied.
“Somehow, I don't quite believe you. But thanks for trying, hun.” He squeezed my hand.
We watched the movie, laughing at the appropriate parts, until we were both ready for bed. “Here.” My dad tossed a small rectangular thing at me, and when it hit the bed, I saw it was my iPod.
I swear, I almost started crying right then. He'd actually taken the time to go into my room, and grab my iPod, because he remembered that I found it incredibly hard to sleep without background noise. I'd usually listen to a chapter or two of an audio book, and it would calm me down enough to drift off into Never-land. I unraveled my headphones from around the middle of my iPod, and thanked him vigorously. He blushed. “Get to bed, kid.”
I obliged. I was pretty damn tired. I didn't think I could be, considering all I'd done today was sleep, but I was. “Goodnight Dad. Love you.”
“I love you too, Bear.” He turned to Alyssa, and asked if it was okay if we turned off the lights. She nodded, and soon the room was graced with darkness.
.........
I didn't sleep well that night. My dreams were horrible, and I'd wake up every four hours, needing morphine to calm my pain receptors. I was almost glad to wake up in the morning. It was only eight thirty when I woke up, but there was no getting back to sleep. Dad was still snoring away on the makeshift bed the chair folded out into, and I didn't want to wake him up. He'd been through just as much these past two days as I had. I sat there, not wanting to turn the television on, just thinking. What was I going to do about school? I mean, I never came back after my doctor's appointment. They've got to know something's up. And what about my parent's work? I mean, they couldn't just stop going! I was pretty sure we were gonna need some money to cover the whole medical bill thing. Before I could entirely freak myself out, though, Mom walked in, Christian in tow.
“Hey Sarah,” he murmured, coming to stand next to the bed. “How're you feeling?”
I don't think I've ever seen him that serious. And there was no way he’d ever greeted me with less than a six-decibel shout and a bear hug. He must've been really shaken up. “I'm okay, Chris. Little pissed off that you got away with just a broken leg at seventeen, and I had to go and get cancer,” I teased. “Who would've known you actually did get some of the good genes?”
He blanched for a minute, and then laughed. “That's the kid sister I know and love.” I just grinned. “But really. How are you feeling?”
Mom took her cue to leave. “Sarah, Chris, I think your dad and I will go get some coffee. Come on, honey,” she nudged Dad, who by now had started to wake up.
They left without another word, and Christian turned back to me, waiting for my response. “Chris,” I sighed.
“That's not a mood or a feeling, that's just you saying my name like you want me to get the hell out and stop bugging you. But that's not going to happen until you tell me what's up.”
I just glanced over to the other side of the room, and we were silent for a minute. When I still heard Al's almost silent snoring, I knew we were okay. “Sorry. I just... I don't like to talk when people overhear me. 'Specially not about stuff like this.”
He nodded. “I know you, Bearie. You don't talk about shit ever, even when it's in your best interest. Now talk.”
“Christian, I don't even know how I am. I just found out day before yesterday I had cancer, when I thought it was just some stupid infection or muscle thing. I had various surgeries yesterday, including putting this thing into my chest and it hurts like hell. I'm scared to death that something's going to happen to me, and I won't have any warning. I don't know what I'm going to do about school and -”
He interrupted me there. “Sarah, come on. School is the last of your worries. They'll pass you just because you have cancer. Hell, they'll probably put you at the top of your class so you can make some dumb-ass speech about the trials of cancer, and how it really made you realize how lucky you are, and all that crap you hear on TV.”
I laughed. Christian had a knack for taking bad situations and turning them funny. I would always joke and tell him he should've been a comedian instead of a police officer, 'cause I don't really think the people he arrests will appreciate his humor. “Hey, you said you know me. You should know I worry about irrational things by now.”
“Yeah, and I'm still trying to get you to stop. That's what parents are for.”
“I envy your childlike state of mind. How are you even paying the bills with this type of attitude?”
“Well, it's a good thing I've got myself a lady, then, isn't it?”
I gasped. This was new. “What?! Does Mom know? What about Dad? Is she nice? Where'd you meet her? Does she - “
“Sarah, it would be really helpful to me telling you about her if you shut up.” I mimed locking my mouth and throwing away the key. “Thanks. You better keep this to yourself when it comes to Mom and Dad. I don't want them to know yet. Her name is Claire, and she's twenty-one. I met her at the Laundromat, because your big brother is such an idiot he can't figure out how to work the washing machines himself. We haven't been dating for long, just a couple of weeks since we kinda became 'exclusive,' to use a teenage terminology. Just... Don't say anything to them, okay?”
I understood his trepidation's. Not that I had ever gone through them, being the lone wolf in high school that I am, but I knew enough about the way my parents glommed on to me whenever I just brought someone over to work on a school project. I couldn't imagine how they'd react to the fact that Christian had a new girlfriend.
“Way to get off the subject of you, by the way.” He glared at me. “I can't believe you got me talking about me when you're lying in a hospital bed with cancer.”
“Oh please," I joked. “You totally wanted to talk about you ever since you walked in the door. This whole me having cancer thing isn't even a blip on your radar.”
Instead of laughing, his face went stony. “Not funny, Sarah.”
“What? What's wrong?” I demanded.
“Sarah, I'm scared shitless for you. You're my baby sister. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you. Throw myself off a building, maybe? I almost want to move back home, maybe get transferred to the station out here.” He held up a hand as I started to protest. “You know, that's not a bad idea. I'm going to talk to my chief tonight. And no, you can't change my mind. I knew there was a reason Mom kept my room like a shrine.” He grinned at that one, and I knew the seriousness was over, at least for now. “And besides, Mom's gonna need all the help she can get, with you puking your guts out. It'll be great for your figure, though, doll,” Christian flapped his hand at me, acting overly flamboyant, and I giggled.
Prompts: Pistachio #1 - Meeting, Nectarine #7 - "The road to a friend's house is never long" and Chocolate #3 - sympathy
Extras: Brownie
Story: The Life of a Sarcastic Teenage Cancer Patient
Rating: PG
Word Count: Er... 7410. IT'S WORTH IT I PROMISE. Well, I think it's worth it. I kind of have to think it's worth it. Wanna make my day? Read it anyways.
Bald is beautiful. Those were the first words that hit me as I was wheeled onto the pediatric oncology ward of the hospital. Below the words was a picture of four kids, ranging in age from what looked like about four to seventeen. All of them were bald. As much as I wanted to look away, I couldn't. It was just too intriguing, and at the same time, depressing, because I knew that this picture was depicting what was going to happen to me soon. That as they killed the thing that was killing me, one of my most treasured possessions, the hair that I had been cultivating since I was three was going to have to die as well. I felt my mom squeeze my shoulder as we went past room after room, until we finally reached room 1017. “Here it is,” a nurse by the name of Olga announced.
I swallowed, and looked up at both of my parents. This was it. Olga pushed the door open. It was one of those sturdy, heavy-duty hospital doors that look like they could quite possibly put you in the hospital themselves. “I'm sorry we didn't have a single room available,” she apologized. “We usually like to put the newly diagnosed in a single, but what with it being flu season, there's been a lot of hospitalizations that needed their own room.
We've actually began overflowing,” Olga smiled sheepishly, and my mom tried to return it.
Why were these kids coming to the hospital for the flu? It's not like it was a matter of life or death. Just the flu. I'd just started going through all of the possibilities to what the nurse had meant when a voice came from behind the curtain dividing the room. “Olg, didja bring me a new roomie?”
“Sure did, Alyssa. This is Sarah,” Olga said, pulling back the curtain.
A smiling, bald girl waved. She couldn’t have been much older than me. “Hi! I'm Alyssa. You can call me Al though.”
I nodded, a bit overwhelmed. I could feel the discomfort from my parents. It hadn't been a full twenty four hours since we'd found out that I had a tumor the size of a tennis ball on my shoulder. And here it was, the shocking, bringing-us-crashing-out-of-our-dreams-that-this-was-a-dream-and-right-back-into-the-cold-reality reminder that everything in our entire lives had just been changed for good. They helped me out of the chair, and into the bed. My eyes drifted towards the clock as I lowered my body onto the foam mattress. How had it gotten to be nine o'clock at night already? It seemed like not even an hour ago, it was noon, and Dr. Harris was telling me that I was sick.
“Well, yeah, I kinda figured,” I smiled at her. “That's why I came to see you. What's the antibiotic?”
Dr. Harris looked pained, and she shot my mom a look. She'd pulled her in to talk to her before me, probably to check on the billing thing. I'm seventeen now, but they still don't like to talk about money in front of me. “Sarah, this isn't going to be fixed with antibiotics. You're not that kind of sick. We're going to admit you to the hospital.”
“What, are you saying it's all in my head? I swear, there might be a lot of stress going on, but all high school juniors are feeling it. I'm not crazy!” It seemed almost comical to me now that that was where my mind had gone.
Dr. Harris smiled a little. “No, this isn't all in your head. That's not what I'm saying.”
“Sweetie, what Dr. Harris is trying to say -” My mom interjected. Somehow, I'd missed the tears that were pouring silently down her face. She let out a small sob.
“What's going on?” I asked, a blanket question for the room.
“Sarah, you have cancer.”
As soon as she let the words out, I turned to my mom for confirmation. More out of reflex than anything. I could already tell that the doctor was telling the truth. But it wasn't real until Mom admitted it. It couldn't be real.
A flock of people came in then, bringing me back to the present. “Hey there, Sarah.” A few doctors I recognized from earlier tried to make contact, but I wasn't going to reciprocate. Hadn't they done enough today? I still tried to smile, not wanting to seem rude, but my face felt heavy, and I was sure my smile wasn't as successful as I would've liked it to been. The group formed a semi-circle at the foot of the bed, and went around introducing themselves. I probably should've paid attention, at least tried to remember their names, but I couldn't bring myself to even look them in the eye for more than a minute. I could feel Alyssa watching me until one of the doctors pulled the curtain shut. “So, Sarah, does that sound good to you?” The head doctor, a woman with a short brown haircut smiled at me.
“Uh... Sure?” I replied, unsure of what I was agreeing to. I didn't want to let them know I hadn't been paying attention.
“Good. We'll be by in the morning, and give you the time of the surgery. You can eat something now, but don't eat anything after midnight, all right?”
Surgery? What the hell? I nodded towards them as they left the room, a few getting in a couple more pokes and prods to make sure I was still breathing, I guess. As soon as they'd left, I turned to my parents. “What are they doing to me tomorrow?”
“Don't worry, sweetie. It's just a biopsy of the tumor, and they're going to place something called a port-o-catheter. It'll make it so you don't have to get IV's every time.” My dad said, brushing his fingers through my hair. “Very routine. You have nothing to worry about...” Besides having cancer. The words were unspoken, but they hung in the air like a cloud of toxic gas.
I grabbed his hand, and then my mom's, squeezing them. They both stood there, looking at me with the sad cancer eyes for a few minutes. “It's gonna be okay.” I found myself promising them. “We'll get through it.”
Dad pulled away first. “How bout we get something to eat?” He asked, and when he turned away to look for his cell phone, I saw him move his hands up to his face as if he were crying. But that couldn't... My dad never cried. Ever. But when he turned back around, his eyes were glossy. “How does chinese sound?” He choked, trying to keep his voice level.
“Chinese sounds great, Dad.” I grabbed his hand again while he called, and he smiled down at me, tears running freely now.
We sat in silence for a few minutes. The Chinese place delivered to the hospital, and Olga assured us that the front desk would call up when they arrived. After about five minutes, I decided I couldn't take the loaded silence,
and I turned on the TV. Starting to flip through the channels, I stopped when I got to a showing of House. This had always been one show that my family would sit down and watch together, and it seemed rather ironic that it would come on now. On the other side of the room, I heard Alyssa - sorry, Al - switch her television on, as well, and turned it to the same channel. At least she had good taste. We sat for a little while longer, until one of the nurses poked her head in and informed us that the deliveryman was waiting downstairs. Mom went to her purse and handed my dad a few bills. He squeezed my hand one last time, and left the room to get our food. He was back by the next commercial, and we dished out the food, only talking to ask each other what the other wanted.
“Do you want some, Alyssa?” Mom asked, and Al shook her head.
“No thanks,” she smiled at us. “I already ate tonight. The hospital food here is surprisingly good.”
Mom nodded, and turned back to House.
... ... ...
Somewhere along there, I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, it was nine thirty in the morning, and my mom was trying to silently walk back in the door. “Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry!” She apologized, seeing my eyes open. “I didn't want to wake you up. You looked like you needed your sleep, and…” Her voice just trailed off.
“It's fine Mom, don't worry about it.” I assured her. “Where's Dad?”
“He went back home after you fell asleep last night. There wasn't enough room in here for the both of us, and I wanted to stay. He'll be here soon.”
I nodded. “Okay. Have you seen the doctors yet?” If they were going to be cutting into me anytime soon, I wanted to know about it.
“They're starting rounds soon, so they should be coming by in a while. Dr. Jones promised they'd start at this end of the ward so that we wouldn't have to wait too long.” She sat down in the chair next to my bed. “This thing folds out, did you know that?”
I laughed a little. “That's pretty cool, Mom. Can I have a sip of your coffee?”
She fidgeted. “Uh... Honey, remember? You're not allowed to eat or drink anything.”
Damn. This was going to get old fast. “Oh. Right.”
“I'll leave the room to finish, if you want.”
I forced another smile. “No, don't even worry about it. I'm not that hungry anyways.”
“Okay... Just let me know, okay?” She still looked skeptical as I clicked the TV back on.
“I hate talk shows,” I grumbled. “I'm going to be pissed if they don't have MTV or VH1 here.”
“They do!” Al's voice chirped from behind the curtain. “Channels forty-one and forty-two, if you're interested.”
“Thanks.” Jesus, I wonder if I could get away with a Wizard of Oz type thing. Pay no attention to the girl behind the curtain.
I looked up as I heard the door creak open. It was my dad, and he was chatting animatedly with a nurse. “You've gotta keep an eye on her,” he was warning her. “She's not very good about letting people know when she's in pain, but she gets crabbier by the minute when she's in a lot of it. That's when you know to give her something.” By the second sentence, I knew he was talking about me.
“Dad!” I exclaimed, wishing that I had something other than an IV pole near me so I could throw something at him. “What the hell?”
“See?” He asked. It was like I wasn't even there. “Crabbier by the minute.”
Well, now that he mentioned it, my shoulder was killing me. But that was besides the point. “Hi Sarah, I'm Brittany. I'll be your nurse today, all right?” I shrugged, and she continued talking. “Are you in any pain?”
“No.” I caved when I saw both my parents glaring at me. “Fine. Yeah. My shoulder hurts.” Like a bitch, I wanted to add, but there was no way I'd get away with that in front of my parents.
“On a scale of one to ten, how high is your pain? Ten being the highest, one being no pain at all.”
“Ugh, really?” I grimaced. “I'm in pain! Does it matter how much?”
“Sarah!” Mom chastised.
“Sorry.” I grumbled. “I don't know... An eight, maybe?”
Brittany made a note. “All right. I'll get you some painkillers. You're not allergic to anything, right?”
I shook my head. “Isn't that in my medical records?” This time, I made sure to keep my voice low enough that no one could hear. I still got the satisfaction out of saying it, though.
“Okay. I'll be right back with some morphine for you.”
As soon as she left the room, my mom turned to me. “What?” I snapped.
“Don't you start with me, Sarah. I know you're hurting, and I know you're upset. But you don't need to -”
“Upset? Why would I be upset, Mom? It's not like there's anything wrong, right? Oh wait, right, there's that fact that I'm missing school. And I'm going to lose all my hair. And spend the next year feeling sick. And I mean, I guess you could also throw in the fact that I have cancer in that mess of things going wrong.”
Mom took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “Sarah, I'm not saying you don't have lots of reason to be upset. All I'm saying is that the poor woman is just trying to help you feel better. You could at least not snap at her.”
“Whatever.” I mumbled, curling up into the fetal position. I didn't want her to be mad at me, but she could've been more understanding. I mean, she was my mom. Isn't she supposed to be on my side?
Dad, ever the peacekeeper, started rubbing my back. “I know it hurts, hun,” he murmured. “But you've gotta stay strong, okay? The nurses are just trying to help, and we don't wanna get on their bad sides now, do we? They've got all the good drugs.”
He was trying to make a joke. It worked. I let out a small giggle, and turned back over. “How do you make this thing sit up?”
“Controls on the side bars!” There was the Wizard again.
Instead of taking the annoyed approach I was, my parents actually seemed to appreciate her input. “Good morning, Al!” My dad called, and walked over to open the curtain. “How are you... Er... You okay?” Quite the wordsmith.
“Thanks, Mr. M. I'm good. Got a good nights sleep.” Alyssa smiled at me, and I grimaced back. Regardless of the fact that I didn't want to talk to her, I also didn't want to seem rude. I hoped she thought it was the pain, since she obviously could hear the entire conversation I just had.
Brittany came back in then, carrying a small plastic cylinder and a small machine that she attached above the fluids IV machine. “Here you go, sweetie.” She smiled. “You should be feeling better in a matter of minutes. If the morphine hurts going in, just tell me. It might be time for a new IV.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
“No problem, Sarah. It's my job to make you feel better. Just ring me if there's any problem,” she said, looking first at me, and then to my parents. “The docs should be in any minute, they're just finishing up in the next room.” She left the room as my parents thanked her, waving a small goodbye. Maybe she wasn't so bad.
True to her word, the pain started dissipating. My eyelids became droopy, and nothing seemed half as bad as it had before. I yawned. Dad took one look at me, and started giggling. “What?” I accused, and then giggled a bit myself. My voice sounded funny.
“Liz, look at this. She's high as a kite.” Mom started laughing, too, as Dad pointed to my eyes.
I couldn't even care that they were making fun of me. I just wanted to close my eyes. Unfortunately, the doctors chose that exact moment to walk in. There were less than last night, but no new doctors. “Hey Sarah, how's it going?” Again, with the trying to relate.
“I'm alright,” I said, giggling again at my voice.
“She just got some morphine,” my dad explained, still grinning.
“Ahh,” the woman with the brown bob smiled. “Alright, we'll try to make this quick then. I don't know if you
remember me, but I'm Dr. Carson.”
I nodded. I didn't remember her, really, but nodding seemed like the right thing to do. “Good,” Dr. Carson smiled again. “So, we're going to try and get you down to surgery today, around noon. We'll place the port, and get a biopsy of that tumor on your shoulder. We think it's a sarcoma, but we'll know for sure what type after some tests.” I nodded again. “I'm sure you're wondering why we're not doing a surgery to take it out.” Actually, I wasn't, but whatever. “Your tumor is too big, and too close to your spinal cord. We don't want to risk any damage. Any other questions?” Shake of the head this time. “So, that's about it. Mom, Dad, we'll probably come find you a bit later, maybe while Sarah's in surgery and talk about treatment plans.”
Dr. Carson gestured to a younger doctor to start talking. “Sarah, I'm Dr. Jones. Do you mind if I take a listen?” He asked, holding up a stethoscope.
I shook my head, and he pressed it to my chest. Why was it that whenever doctors did this, their breath always smelled bad? You'd think someone would've given them a breath mint by now. The docs finished up with me, and moved over to Alyssa. I tried not to listen, but it was hard. They were pretty loud. “Hey Al, where's your mom today?”
“Come on now, Dr. C. You know she hates hospitals. I think she was working the night shift last night, anyways.” Alyssa's voice still sounded cheery, but there was a bit of a strain to it. “I'll probably understand everything you tell me more than she would, anyways.”
They all laughed. “Al, I think you understand this better than we do,” one of them joked.
Well, that was comforting. They went on with their exam, and I let my eyes droop. If I couldn't eat, I might as well sleep.
.........
I woke up two hours later, still feeling a bit of a buzz, but the pain was definitely coming back. I glanced at the clock. Only another hour or so until surgery. Looking around, I noted that my parents had both left the room. Brittany walked in, and smiled. “Good! You're awake. We're going to be taking you down to Pre-Op in the next fifteen, twenty minutes, so get ready! You've got to take off all your jewelry, but you can leave it here. It'll be perfectly safe. Your parents asked me to tell you that they just stepped out to get a bite, but they'll be back.”
“They better be,” I muttered. No way in hell was I going to my first surgery alone. Brittany just smiled, and turned to walk out the door. “Wait!” I called.
“Yeah?” She asked, turning back to face me.
“Do you know... Do you know what's going to happen to me?” I asked, unsure of what I meant by that.
If Brittany was, though, she didn't show it. I guess you get a lot of those kinds of questions thrown at you when you work with children who have cancer. “I don't, sweetie. But our success rate is pretty good, if I do say so myself. I think you're going to be just fine.”
I nodded. I seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. But it wasn't like I was going to say anything, or shake my head. I just curled up into a ball, willing myself not to cry. “You're not allowed to cry,” I whispered to myself.
“Everything is going to be fine. Who knows, maybe they'll find out that this isn't cancer after all? They just made a mistake?” Even I wasn't desperate enough to believe that one. I knew they hadn't made a mistake. I repeated my mantra over and over though, as if saying it would make it actually come true.
“Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness you know.” I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Dad! Jesus! What was that?” I accused, my hand on my heart.
“I'm sorry, kiddo. Didn't mean to scare you. You have a nice nap?”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Yes, I did, thank you very much. You guys always seem to disappear while I'm sleeping.”
“Sorry, sweetie. We don't want to leave you while you're awake, though. And it's not like we have a crystal ball telling us when you're going to wake up.”
“I'm just teasing.” Kind of. “Where'd you guys go?”
“Your mother wanted to call up Christian and tell him what's going on.” Dad sighed, and sat down on the edge of my bed. “She should be up in a few minutes. Just telling him a few things to bring.”
“Bring? Bring where?” This was going to a place I didn't want it to go.
“Sarah, you didn't honestly expect your brother not to come visit.”
“Well, I sure as hell don't want him to come see me right now!”
“Why? Sarah, he's always been your best friend. He wants to be here for you. For all of us. We're a family.” Dad looked at me, worry creasing his face.
“Just... Because. I haven't even had time to process. Plus, they're bringing me down to surgery soon. I don't want to act all bitchy with him.” I didn't mention the main reason, that I was sure as soon as Chris got here, I'd be bawling in his arms. He always managed to get what I was feeling out of me, even when no one else did.
“Language, hun. How soon?” And just like that, the topic of Christian was dropped. That's what I liked about my dad. Always knew just when to change the subject.
“I dunno... Ten minutes now maybe? Brittany came in about five minutes ago and said fifteen to twenty minutes.” I glanced up at the clock, and felt like crying. I was so hungry. “Daddy, I'm hungry.”
“I know. Don't worry. It won't be long. Do you want me to get you something to have ready when you get out?”
Dad grabbed my hand.
“Barbecue Fritos. And a Dr. Pepper.”
He crinkled his nose. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“You got your taste in food from your mother.”
“Hope that's not an insult,” Mom breezed in, her face red. I could tell she'd been crying, but if we were going to pretend like nothing was wrong, than so be it.
“Of course not, sweetie. Sarah and I were just talking about what she wanted to eat when she got out of surgery.” My dad moved to kiss her, and I averted my eyes. No matter how old I got, public displays of parental affection were still gross.
Luckily, the door opened yet again, and Brittany was here, two other nurses in tow. “You ready to go under the knife?” She asked, grinning.
“I never thought it'd be for this...” I muttered as they got to work disconnecting me from the various machines and raising the sides of the bed.
After some maneuvering, they managed to roll the bed out of the room, and Brittany waved the other two off.
“Thanks guys. I can take it from here.” They waved, and wished me luck before skittering off to their own patients.
“I assume your father told you Christian is coming up?” Mom asked, holding onto a side rail on the bed.
“Yeah. When's he getting here?” I needed to be able to form a good game face.
“Not until late tonight. There's some paperwork he can't get rid of right now, so he's gotta stay at the station all day. He'll come see you tomorrow morning.” Good. That gives me some time.
“Your mother and I were thinking that maybe after he visits with you, the three of us would go back to the house and get some things for you, since we don't know how long we'll be staying. I'm sure you don't want to stay in those hospital gowns the whole time.” Dad continued her train of thought.
“Boyfriend?” Brittany mouthed to me.
“Brother.” I mouthed back, and groaned. The mere thought of Christian being allowed near my stuff killed me.
Sure, he was twenty-four, but he was still as immature as a twelve year old. God forbid he found anything. He'd tease me about it for the rest of my life. It's not like I had condoms or anything, but still. Chris could make anything humiliating. It was his job as an older brother. Or at least, that's what he'd tell me when I was younger.
The operating room was on the fourth floor, and it took us less than a minute to get there. It also took me less than a minute to get extremely nervous. “Mom, what if something goes wrong?” I asked, tearing my fingers away from her hand to start biting them.
“Sarah, sweetie, these people are very good at their job. They've done this a million times. Nothing will go wrong.” She pulled my fingers out of my mouth, and grasped them again.
Suppressing the urge to scream “how do you know?,” I just squeezed her hand. I'd never been very good at talking about serious stuff like this, especially with my mom. It was just something I couldn't do. Some people can't read or write; I can't talk about my feelings with my mom. Doctors came in and out of the little curtain cubicle, checking my vital signs and IV, asking me to pee in a cup, et-cetera. Guess they wanted to rule immaculate conception out of my host of problems. Finally, though, they were almost ready to roll me in.
“Alright, this might feel a little funny,” a doctor warned, holding up yet another syringe, searching for a place to insert it. When he finally did, I felt the cool liquid run into my veins, and seconds later a feeling of extreme giddiness took over my brain.
“You okay?” Mom asked, searching my face for signs of distress.
“I'm fine Mommy,” I giggled. “You're right. Everything is going to be fine. I love you!”
For a minute, she just stood there, taken aback, before a small grin crossed across her face. “I love you too, Sarah belle. We'll see you when you get out.”
“Okay!” I called, for they were rolling me away. The walls looked funny. Before they brought me into the room, though, I had one more thing to say: “Mommy, make sure Christian doesn't go into my room!”
I heard my parents crack up. I didn't see what was so funny. I was just trying to protect my secrets.
“Sarah, we're going to move you over onto the gurney, okay?” A mask-clad nurse asked.
“Do I have to move myself? `Cause I don't really think that's possible right now.” My voice kept getting further and further away, and my head kept getting fuzzier and fuzzier.
“No, sweetie, we're going to pick you up and place you there. Don't worry about it.”
“You can't!” I gasped. “I'm too heavy!”
There was muffled laughter. “Sarah, we do this all the time. Trust me, we can most definitely roll you over there.”
“Your pain,” I murmured, but they were already moving me. “Whoa!” I exclaimed, trying to sit up and examine my new surroundings. “You did it!”
A new person entered the room. “Hi Sarah, you having fun?” He continued as I yet again nodded. “Good. I'm Dr. Robbins, and I'll be doing your surgery today, okay? I just finished talking to your parents, so we're good to go! We're going to need you to lie back down, though.”
I obliged, and there was a flurry of people above me, attaching various monitors and stickers. “Okay, Sarah, can you count backwards from a hundred for me?” Someone I remembered as the anesthesiologist asked me.
“Why? The tumor is in my shoulder, not my brain. Don't you know what you're...”
.........
“Mom?” I asked, and immediately clutched my throat. “Ow,” I whispered.
“Sarah? Are you awake?” I could feel my brain cells rattling as she spoke.
“Not so loud...”
“Sorry.” She lowered her voice, and the cells slowed to a stop.
“Thanks. How'd it go? Did they do everything?” And god, could I get some water already?
“It was fine. They're running the tests now, but they're pretty sure it's a sarcoma. Probably osteosarcoma. The port's in, and they decided to do a spinal tap while you were under, as well.” She massaged the back of my hand with her thumb. “Is there anything I can get for you?”
“Water?” One word answers seemed best right now.
“Coming right up.” She turned to leave, but I needed to say something else.
“Morphine?” Even I wasn't proud enough to go through this pain without saying anything. Mom nodded, and left the room. I closed my eyes, willing the pain to lessen.
... ... ...
“We've confirmed that it's osteosarcoma, and that the cancer hasn't spread to the spinal cord. This makes it infinitely easier to treat, and there's a lower chance of relapse. The port was placed as close to perfect as it could be. Sarah may experience headaches for the next few days; they're a side affect of the spinal tap. It should go down after a while, and the morphine she's getting will probably keep that pain under control. If the headache's continue for more than three days, we'll start giving her a caffeine drip. For now, just drinking caffeinated sodas or coffee should help as well.”
Ugh. Were they allowed to talk about me without my permission? “Hey!” Double ugh. I don't think anyone could take me seriously with my voice like this.
“Oh, sweetie, you're up!” Dad's head came into view. “Dr. Carson was just telling us about how the surgery went.”
“I know. You couldn't have waited till I woke up? Jeez.” I muttered.
“Glad to see your attitude survived,” he raised an eyebrow at me.
“It's great your sarcasm can come into play even under stress, Dad.”
“Touche.”
Dr. Carson smiled at me. “How are you feeling, Sarah?”
“I'm okay. Sore though.”
“Well, that's to be expected. We're going to move you back up to the floor soon, we just need the surgeon to sign off on it.” Ugh. I could only imagine what kind of advice Al would have for me now.
I closed my eyes yet again, and willed myself over to sleep.
... ... ...
And that was how the rest of my day went. I drifted in and out of sleep, only waking when I needed more morphine, or something to eat. It was a relief not to have a needle poking out of my arm; I could move any which way. When I awoke at seven, I saw that my parents had taken Alyssa's advice and ordered up from the cafeteria. I lifted up the cover of the plate, and saw a plate of spaghetti and French fries, plus the Dr. Pepper and Fritos my dad had promised me. I sat up, only to be pushed back down by a swell of pain in my head. “Note to self: Sitting up - not a good idea.” I grumbled, and carefully reached for the chips, trying not to move the area where I'd gotten the port. That won pain precedence for now. I hit the nurse call button, and was happy to see Brittany bounce through the doorway. She took one look at my grimace, and said, “I'll be right back with some morphine. Just take some deep breaths, and you'll be out of it before you know it.” She spun around on the heel of the clogs every nurse in the place seemed to wear as I began breathing, and I could hear her power walking to the med room. I'd been here long enough, plus seen enough medical television shows, to know that running was generally seen as an emergency. Pretty sure that a bit of pain after a surgery didn't quite fall as high on the scale as a code blue.
True to her word, she was back within minutes, and soon I was, as Dad had put it earlier, “high as a kite.” I felt well enough to sit up a bit, and as I did, my stomach began to growl. Who knew sleeping all day could make you hungry? I shoveled into my spaghetti, barely pausing to chew. I quickly realized that this just made me feel sick, so I slowed down as not to puke. Even though this was probably the best hospital food I'd ever tasted, I bet it didn't taste half as good coming back up. Squirting some ketchup onto the only available space on the entire tray, a napkin; I started eagerly chowing down on the fries. My dad walked in just as I finished and began chugging down the Dr. Pepper.
“I guess you were hungry, huh kiddo?” He teased, eyeing the plate. “And here I was, thinking you'd leave some for me.”
“Nope. That's what happens when I'm deprived of food all day. I get hungry - imagine that!” Even if my body was physically suffering, at least my sarcasm wasn't. That was still alive and well.
Dad just shrugged. “Probably a good thing I got McDonald's while you were sleeping, then, huh?”
“Auuughh.”
“What?”
“That's the sound of me hitting your shoulder. I can't actually move my arm right now, so I figured the sound effects would get your attention.” I grinned, and he just shook his head.
“You're a freak. Mom'll be back in a few minutes; she's going to get going soon. Christian said he should be home by eight thirty, and she wants to make sure his room has clean sheets.” Dad explained, taking the seat next to me. “Anything good on TV?”
“I dunno. You just came in a few minutes after I woke up. I haven't checked.”
We flipped through the channels, until we found a channel that was playing Hitch, one of Will Smith's funnier romantic comedies. “Dad, it's a really good thing you can actually stand these types of movies.” I commented.
“Yeah? Why?” It took him a couple of minutes to tear his eyes from the screen.
“Because I have a feeling we're going to be watching a lot of them.”
He faked a groan, but I knew he was okay with it. Dad had always been an old softie. It had just gotten to the part where Will Smith's character had sent Eva Mendes's character a walkie-talkie when Mom came in. “Ugh, not this movie again.” For whatever reason, she couldn't stand Will Smith, something Dad and I simply could never understand. “Is it okay with you that I'm leaving, Bear?”
“It's fine Mom,” I gave her a gentle grin, trying to communicate how much I appreciated the use of my childhood nickname. “Go be with Christian for a while. Dad and I will probably just hang out with Will Smith all night; you're not gonna miss much.”
“Well, if Will Smith is in the picture, then I'm definitely leaving!” Her tight grin turned into a real one, and you could tell she was proud of herself for being able to make a joke right now. Working under pressure had never been her strong suit.
I just laughed, and we sent her on her way. Dad opened the curtain and chatted with Al for a bit, and she turned Hitch on as well. Yet another thing we had in common. Maybe I'd have to talk to her once I felt better. Who knows, she might be able to help me get a lay of the land. And I'd get her on my side before Chris could fully humiliate me. In the morning, though. I don't think I could handle it tonight. I mean, come on. I'd just gone under the knife for the first time in my entire life. Which, I have to admit, was pretty good. Christian had surgery when he was eleven, to get his appendix out. I beat him there. I could lord that over him, at least.
After Hitch, we found a channel playing Knocked Up. “I can't believe that I'm watching this with my daughter...” My dad shook his head in dismay.
“Why not?” I asked, indignant. “I'm seventeen! I'll be eighteen in February! I'm totally legal.” He shot me a look. “Oh. That was one of those 'I can't believe I'm getting so old' things, wasn't it?”
Dad sighed. “I'm going to pretend that was just the drugs talking, and that you aren't actually in control of your speech. Because if you were, I'd have to accept the fact that you just called me old.”
“Did I? Oh... Uh... I meant, Dad, you don't look a day over twenty-five!” I remedied.
“Somehow, I don't quite believe you. But thanks for trying, hun.” He squeezed my hand.
We watched the movie, laughing at the appropriate parts, until we were both ready for bed. “Here.” My dad tossed a small rectangular thing at me, and when it hit the bed, I saw it was my iPod.
I swear, I almost started crying right then. He'd actually taken the time to go into my room, and grab my iPod, because he remembered that I found it incredibly hard to sleep without background noise. I'd usually listen to a chapter or two of an audio book, and it would calm me down enough to drift off into Never-land. I unraveled my headphones from around the middle of my iPod, and thanked him vigorously. He blushed. “Get to bed, kid.”
I obliged. I was pretty damn tired. I didn't think I could be, considering all I'd done today was sleep, but I was. “Goodnight Dad. Love you.”
“I love you too, Bear.” He turned to Alyssa, and asked if it was okay if we turned off the lights. She nodded, and soon the room was graced with darkness.
.........
I didn't sleep well that night. My dreams were horrible, and I'd wake up every four hours, needing morphine to calm my pain receptors. I was almost glad to wake up in the morning. It was only eight thirty when I woke up, but there was no getting back to sleep. Dad was still snoring away on the makeshift bed the chair folded out into, and I didn't want to wake him up. He'd been through just as much these past two days as I had. I sat there, not wanting to turn the television on, just thinking. What was I going to do about school? I mean, I never came back after my doctor's appointment. They've got to know something's up. And what about my parent's work? I mean, they couldn't just stop going! I was pretty sure we were gonna need some money to cover the whole medical bill thing. Before I could entirely freak myself out, though, Mom walked in, Christian in tow.
“Hey Sarah,” he murmured, coming to stand next to the bed. “How're you feeling?”
I don't think I've ever seen him that serious. And there was no way he’d ever greeted me with less than a six-decibel shout and a bear hug. He must've been really shaken up. “I'm okay, Chris. Little pissed off that you got away with just a broken leg at seventeen, and I had to go and get cancer,” I teased. “Who would've known you actually did get some of the good genes?”
He blanched for a minute, and then laughed. “That's the kid sister I know and love.” I just grinned. “But really. How are you feeling?”
Mom took her cue to leave. “Sarah, Chris, I think your dad and I will go get some coffee. Come on, honey,” she nudged Dad, who by now had started to wake up.
They left without another word, and Christian turned back to me, waiting for my response. “Chris,” I sighed.
“That's not a mood or a feeling, that's just you saying my name like you want me to get the hell out and stop bugging you. But that's not going to happen until you tell me what's up.”
I just glanced over to the other side of the room, and we were silent for a minute. When I still heard Al's almost silent snoring, I knew we were okay. “Sorry. I just... I don't like to talk when people overhear me. 'Specially not about stuff like this.”
He nodded. “I know you, Bearie. You don't talk about shit ever, even when it's in your best interest. Now talk.”
“Christian, I don't even know how I am. I just found out day before yesterday I had cancer, when I thought it was just some stupid infection or muscle thing. I had various surgeries yesterday, including putting this thing into my chest and it hurts like hell. I'm scared to death that something's going to happen to me, and I won't have any warning. I don't know what I'm going to do about school and -”
He interrupted me there. “Sarah, come on. School is the last of your worries. They'll pass you just because you have cancer. Hell, they'll probably put you at the top of your class so you can make some dumb-ass speech about the trials of cancer, and how it really made you realize how lucky you are, and all that crap you hear on TV.”
I laughed. Christian had a knack for taking bad situations and turning them funny. I would always joke and tell him he should've been a comedian instead of a police officer, 'cause I don't really think the people he arrests will appreciate his humor. “Hey, you said you know me. You should know I worry about irrational things by now.”
“Yeah, and I'm still trying to get you to stop. That's what parents are for.”
“I envy your childlike state of mind. How are you even paying the bills with this type of attitude?”
“Well, it's a good thing I've got myself a lady, then, isn't it?”
I gasped. This was new. “What?! Does Mom know? What about Dad? Is she nice? Where'd you meet her? Does she - “
“Sarah, it would be really helpful to me telling you about her if you shut up.” I mimed locking my mouth and throwing away the key. “Thanks. You better keep this to yourself when it comes to Mom and Dad. I don't want them to know yet. Her name is Claire, and she's twenty-one. I met her at the Laundromat, because your big brother is such an idiot he can't figure out how to work the washing machines himself. We haven't been dating for long, just a couple of weeks since we kinda became 'exclusive,' to use a teenage terminology. Just... Don't say anything to them, okay?”
I understood his trepidation's. Not that I had ever gone through them, being the lone wolf in high school that I am, but I knew enough about the way my parents glommed on to me whenever I just brought someone over to work on a school project. I couldn't imagine how they'd react to the fact that Christian had a new girlfriend.
“Way to get off the subject of you, by the way.” He glared at me. “I can't believe you got me talking about me when you're lying in a hospital bed with cancer.”
“Oh please," I joked. “You totally wanted to talk about you ever since you walked in the door. This whole me having cancer thing isn't even a blip on your radar.”
Instead of laughing, his face went stony. “Not funny, Sarah.”
“What? What's wrong?” I demanded.
“Sarah, I'm scared shitless for you. You're my baby sister. I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you. Throw myself off a building, maybe? I almost want to move back home, maybe get transferred to the station out here.” He held up a hand as I started to protest. “You know, that's not a bad idea. I'm going to talk to my chief tonight. And no, you can't change my mind. I knew there was a reason Mom kept my room like a shrine.” He grinned at that one, and I knew the seriousness was over, at least for now. “And besides, Mom's gonna need all the help she can get, with you puking your guts out. It'll be great for your figure, though, doll,” Christian flapped his hand at me, acting overly flamboyant, and I giggled.