The nights are what are unbearable to me. Those hours after Jacob and Xavier go to sleep and the house is quiet allow me too much time to think about everything that is going to happen. About the lifetime they’re going to have after I’m gone. As pissed off as I am at the man upstairs, I spend hours every night praying that nothing ever happens to Xavier because Jacob needs him. Eventually, the exhaustion takes over and I fall asleep, but it never lasts. I wake up shaking, sweating, sometimes bawling my eyes out as reality slaps me once again.
I’m sick of smiling when I would rather scream. I’m tired of being strong. I’m fucking dying here and trying to act like that thought doesn’t scare the shit out of me. My hands shake as I pull on a sweatshirt and skinny jeans. The jeans that used to fit me like a glove are now baggy on me, a stark reminder that the cancer is literally eating away at my body. I don’t need to go to the doctor today to know what he’s going to tell me. I’m almost relieved that Xavier wasn’t able to get back into town early because it’s that much harder having him sit next to me when the doctor gives me bad news. Melanie is a trained professional, she’s used to hearing the worst case scenarios and doesn’t believe in giving me false hope.
“You do realize that you’re not getting out of this, right? And if you put on any more makeup, you’re going to look like RuPaul. Let’s go!” Mel laughs, sitting on the edge of the bed while I finish putting on my make-up. In all of this, she’s the one bright spot. I never had many female friends and that is exactly how I see Mel. I know she’s getting paid well to be here, but what she does for us on a daily basis goes far beyond what is in her job description. Not only that, but she doesn’t treat me like I’m dying. That is what I love about her.
I stop stalling for time, grabbing my purse off the floor. “You’re really a bitch when it comes to making me go to the doctor, you know that?” I joke as I put on my winter coat and hat. “Now I see why Xavier likes keeping you around.”
Melanie stiffens at the comment. This has happened a few times now and I want to ask her about it. The pit in my stomach keeps me from broaching the subject because I’m scared that one of the crazy scenarios my mind weaves in the darkness will hit too close to home. So, I do like I do with so many things in my life anymore and I ignore it. If I ignore it, maybe it’ll go away, right?
The tension in the doctor’s office is palpable as we wait for the results of Alyssa’s tests. I’ve been here so many times I’m on a first name basis with most of the nurses, but this time feels different. I’ve allowed myself to feel like part of the Ross family for nearly three months now and Alyssa has become a friend to me, not a patient kept at arm’s length. That makes it infinitely harder to remain stoic while Alyssa shifts uncomfortably on her chair.
“I want to go to on a cruise,” Alyssa says quietly. I look at her and see her worrying her lip. The action is so out of character for her I want to dig deeper, to understand what’s going on.
“Okay?” Hell, it’s February in Wisconsin, I think we all want to go on a cruise by this point. But I don’t think her request is coming from a desire to escape the bitterly cold shades of gray that have taken over the landscape.
“We always said that once Jacob was a bit older, we were going to take a Disney cruise. I don’t want to miss that trip.” Turning to face Alyssa, I see a tear rolling down her cheek. She has been so brave, at least in the time since I’ve met her, but it appears there is finally a crack in her veneer. I have no clue how we’re going to get Xavier on board with this one, but as I have too many times in recent months, I vow to do everything I can to make the end of her life as full as possible.
Xavier’s plane lands in less than an hour. The part of me that never stopped loving him physically hurts right now, knowing the news that he’s about to receive. Alyssa has somehow fortified the walls around her emotions once again, reminding me that we all knew this was coming. At this point, I feel as if I’m taking the news that her cancer has spread harder than she is.
“What did you expect, Mel?” she asks me as she stirs the homemade spaghetti sauce she’s been slaving over most of the day. I’ve learned that cooking is her outlet, even if she rarely eats, so I didn’t hesitate when she asked me to stop at the store on our way home. “The reason you’re here is because I’m dying. It’s not like you’re some sort miracle worker brought in to do what some of the best doctors in the country weren’t able to do.”