His mom makes frequent trips during his treatment while I’m at school and goes home for the weekends when I visit. We’ve worked out a great schedule between us and even Drew is good with it. He likes having her there to cook for him because he’s so wiped out if he works at all and too tired to do it himself. I’m happy knowing at least he’s getting good meals and someone is watching after him.
At the end of February, they do a follow up bone scan and another PET scan. The news is good! The tumor has shrunk down to almost nothing, so the second week in March, they do the surgical excision. It’s a rough one. They remove seven inches of his seventh rib. No one has prepared me for the chest tube and the other tubes he has coming out of him. I never was bothered much by the sight of blood, but this takes it to an entirely different level.
The nurses all hover over him, and why wouldn’t they? He’s one of their own. But damn, he looks awful. When I see him, I run to his mom and break down and cry. He’s so out of it, he doesn’t even notice I’m there.
Letty holds me, and we hang onto each other for dear life. Ray paces. It must be a terrible thing to be a physician and have your son become ill with cancer, and not be able to help him. Ray’s mind must always be in doctor mode, and that has to include a prognosis with outcome data that may or may not be positive.
“He’s going to be fine, Cate. You must believe that,” Letty says.
“I do. Only I hate seeing him like this. I don’t want him to be in pain, hurting.”
“He’s medicated. He doesn’t even know we’re here,” Ray says in a comforting tone.
“How are your classes?” Letty asks, trying to divert my attention, but I don’t want to talk about that right now.
“How long before he wakes up?” I ask Ray.
“Maybe tonight. The longer the better for him,” Ray says.
“That’s good. That will give me time to pull myself together.” I sniff.
“He needs that, Cate. He needs your strength. And for you to be here for him,” Letty says.
“Like I could possibly be anywhere else.”
I plant my butt on a chair next to his bed and the only time I leave is to use the restroom or to get something to drink. Food has no meaning for me. He wears a clear mask over his face that streams more oxygen into his lungs, but Ray tells me he’s doing really well. It’s not until his lids crack open and I see him look at me that I smile. I crawl in the bed with him and hold him.
Letty walks in and sees me. “Cate, I’m not sure you should …”
“Let her be, Letty. She’s fine and he needs her right now. She can’t hurt him.” It’s Ray that speaks.
I run my hands over his head, and seek his hand out under the sheet. Lacing our fingers together, I’m happy to feel his slightly tighten against my own. And then I doze off.
Ray wakes me some time later, asking me if I want anything to eat.
“I’m fine.”
“Cate, you need to eat. You didn’t eat yesterday, that I can recall, and you haven’t eaten a thing all day.”
I didn’t notice that Drew’s mask is gone and in its place are those small tubes that go in his nose. When he speaks, I’m surprised. “Eat, Cate. You must be starved.”
I look at him and beam. “Look who’s awake!”
“Yeah, but I feel like I got nailed by an eighteen wheeler.”
“Aww. That bad?”
“Yeah, but the morphine pump is good.”
“Huh?”
He points to a little machine on a pole next to his bed and explains how it works. It makes me feel better that it helps him so much.
“This sure breeds empathy in me for patients who go through this. Maybe I’m going through this for that reason.”
I clamp my mouth shut because I don’t believe that for a second. Drew is the most empathetic person in the world. He would be the last one to be chosen for that reason. And this is what’s killing me about him getting cancer. It should’ve been me.
Ray prods me again for my answer about food. “Okay, just get me whatever you’re having.”
He nods and both he and Letty leave.
“How’s my girl doing?” How can he ask me that? He’s the one lying in bed with his chest ripped open.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
“I’m good, Cate. You’re lying next to me and that’s all I need.”
“Honestly, Drew, you kill me sometimes. How do you feel?”
“Like I said, I feel like a truck hit me. Other than that, good. I’ll be better when I know this surgery did the trick.”
“Me too. Are you thirsty? Can I get you anything?”
“I’d love some ice chips. That’s all I can have yet.”
“You got it.”
Grabbing his large water container, I wander down the hall until I find a nurse to help me. She shows me where the ice machine is and I fill up the cup and bring it back to Drew. When I spoon some into his mouth, he hums his delight.
“Never thought I’d enjoy ice chips so much.”
“It’s the small things in life.”
“And you, Cate.” He hums as I feed him more chips. “I hate I’m putting you through this.”
“Love encompasses a whole lot of things, Drew. And when I fell in love with you, I didn’t fall for only the good times. I fell for it all, including this. I’m here and we’ll get through this. So stop with that kind of talk.”