The Words We Leave Unspoken(53)
I say goodbye, toss my phone back in my purse and turn to Grey.
“You don’t have to wait around for me. My mom’s bringing my car and I’ll most likely be here all day.”
He doesn’t argue as he says, “Okay, but please call me if you need anything and tell John the same. Okay?”
“I will,” I answer, nodding my head. And then add, “Thank you.”
“I’ll check back in later then,” he says in a questioning tone.
I only nod again and watch as Grey makes his way toward the elevator, wondering what happens when the weight we carry becomes more than we can bear.
Chapter 30
Gwen
I feel out of sorts with the way everyone is fussing over me. I feel completely helpless, lying in this bed with barely enough strength to raise my head. I’ve had a series of tests and scans already this morning and John, Charley and I sat at full attention as Dr. Sheldan explained that due to the toxicity of my heart, we have to stop treatment. He suggests we wait a month, monitor my heart and when I feel stronger begin a new treatment, an oral medication that is less aggressive but still effective. My scans still showed promise, meaning the cancer has not grown or spread since we started two months ago. I don’t feel any sense of relief from this news. He explained that my heart is not pumping blood efficiently, the muscle severely weakened and damaged, and went over a list of medications that I will have to take in order to treat this condition. I listened to Dr. Sheldan, hanging on his every word but my mind was screaming, Why is this happening? It all feels like a dream. John asked a thousand questions: How will this effect my daily life, my routine? Can I drive? How do we know that I won’t have another episode? Does the new treatment change my prognosis? Questions that I would not have thought to ask and could not articulate in the moment. Dr. Sheldan answered each one clearly: I should feel like myself in a few weeks; No driving until he gives me the okay; As long as I am taking my meds and getting plenty of rest, I shouldn’t experience another episode, but that I need to listen to my body, extreme fatigue, shortness of breath, dizziness are all symptoms that need immediate assessment; and the new treatment offers a similar prognosis - a hopeful five years but longer if we’re lucky.
Lucky. I’m feeling anything but lucky.
As if to disorientate me further, it seems that Charley, of all people, has assumed my usual role. Once Mom arrived with Olivia and Max and two separate packed bags for John and I, she sent John to her house for a shower and sent Mom and the kids to a coffee shop down the street where she swears they serve the best cinnamon rolls in Seattle. I tried to argue as I was desperate to see the kids, but Charley insisted that I freshen up a bit so that my appearance wouldn’t scare Olivia and Max. Now she is brushing the tangles out of my hair and helping me brush my teeth. All difficult tasks when you’re lying on your back with your head elevated only thirty degrees. She washes my face with a warm cloth and applies a light moisturizer. I’m not sure if I look much better, but I sure feel better.
After what feels like forever, John reappears in my room looking freshly showered and clean-shaven. He looks tired as hell but I’m glad that he’s here.
“Ready for the munchkins?” he asks as he bends down and kisses my cheek.
I nod, feeling anxious. John and I decided to tell the kids that I have cancer. We aren’t going to tell them what that means for all of us, agreeing that we should keep things simple and easy.
“Technically, they’re not supposed to be in the ICU, but I did some schmoozing and they can both come in for awhile,” John says.
“I’ll go get them,” Charley offers. “Be right back.”
Moments later, I see their heads poke in from behind the curtain that is pulled closed across the open doorway.
I try to sit up a little straighter, ignoring the pain in my chest and my labored breath.
“Hey,” I say. “Come here you two.”
“Hi Mom,” Olivia says first as she steps into the room followed by Max who is distracted for a moment with all the gadgets around us.
I pat the empty space next to me on the bed and Max runs and leaps up beside me, hugging himself tightly against my side. I wince at the pain but wrap my arms around him.
“Mommy,” he says into my chest.
“Hi Bubs,” I say around the lump in my throat as tears sting my eyes.
I watch Olivia as she hesitates, unsure of the situation. “Come here, Love Bug,” I say and motion for her to join Max on the bed. She sits beside me stiffly, opposite of Max. I run my hand down her back and brush my fingers through her hair. “How are you?” I ask her.
I watch as she tries so hard to be strong but I see her bottom lip tremble before she bursts into tears. I pull her to me and John walks over, leans down and embraces us all and we stay like this, as if time is at a standstill, even if only for a few moments.
I feel Max trying to wiggle out of our group hug and so I clear my throat as I reach up and wipe my tears away. We all disengage and John sits next to Olivia on the bed.
“So Daddy and I want to talk to you about why I’m sick.” I look to John for reassurance and he nods and places his hand on Olivia’s shoulder for support. “I have cancer. It’s like a bunch of bad cells that spread in my body, taking over the good cells. I can’t get rid of it, it’s something I’m always going to have, but I have medicine that will help stop the bad cells from growing. I don’t want you to worry though. Everything’s going to be okay.”