Friday, July 14, 2017

The Weight of the Universe (Landon)

Steve and I sat in a waiting room awaiting the oncologist's news. From what I heard, even the most aggressive treatment regimens weren't helping. Alice's condition declined more and more as each day passed. She didn't want to eat or drink lately, much less engage in conversation. She sleeps most of the time and, though neither of us can really do anything, we kept showing up.

Steve's hand moved towards mine. Saying he looked anxious was an understatement. His eyes darted around as if he were waiting for someone to stab him in the back. A panic attack was imminent. All I could do was sit here and wait for everything to hit the fan. When was the nurse coming back? It's 1:00 AM. We're both tired. I have a presentation gig to start, five videos to work on, and a documentary idea to pitch. I peered at an outdated magazine. It was all celebrity gossip. I felt my stomach growl. How long did I go without eating? My head throbbed. I made my way to the vending machine, but Steve stopped me saying that I needed to wait.
         "Why though?"
         "Because Alice needs us."
         "We're not even seeing her. We're waiting for the oncologist to give us at least a scrap of information."
         "So we need to be here." I could sense the impatience in his voice.
         "Why do I need to be here? Why do either of us need to be here? The oncologist can just send a text or an E-mail."
         "But we need to be here. For Alice."
         "Maybe you do, but I. Certainly. Don't." I stormed out. It's been a while since I've felt this angry. I just wanted the world to burn and feel my wrath. Why did Alice have to have cancer? Why did I even consider a relationship with Steve? Why are any of us even here? It's like we're some sadistic teenage girl's playthings, all part of some ill thought-out fanfiction.

Pro tip: When scoping out hospital food, go for something simple, preferably something that isn't dripping with sauce. I picked up a few roast beef sandwiches and some Dr. Pepper. They were dry, but I was okay with that. I needed fuel. The thing with helpful types is that they'll bear the weight of the world for you, but will expect you the bear the weight of the universe in return.

Wait, no. What was I thinking? I splashed my face with water and tried to leave the building when someone stopped me.
          "Who are you?" I turned around ready to fight.
          "I'm Suk-ja Park. I'm the hospital counselor. Are you here with anyone?" This woman is good.             "Yes. I'm here with my boyfriend, Steve. I'm sure you've seen his face before." She nodded as if this was normal and took me back the waiting room.
          "And you are here with Alice?"
          "Yes."
          "Would you like to speak privately first?"
          "Sure." She directed me to her office.  

After talking some more, it turned out that many other people feel the way I do. I wasn't alone in this. She took Steve aside and left me. The oncologist arrived and asked where he was.
          "He's with the counselor."
          "Which one?"
          "Suk-ja Park."
          "Well, I have good news and bad news."
          "Tell me the bad first." I took in a shaky breath and braced myself.
          "Alice is entering the final weeks of her life." I kept my hand over my mouth. It was the only thing preventing me from bursting onto tears right then and there.
          "And...the good news?" I can't be crying. Not now. Not here. I need to be strong.
          "Her misery will end soon. We can move her to a hospice facility or we can keep her here. The hospice facility is more comfortable and is better equipped to handle situations like yours." After taking a fact sheet about hospice care, Steve came back and practically ran to my side.
          "So what is it?" I relayed the information to him.
          "The oncologist said Alice is entering the final weeks of her life." I wiped a stray tear from my eye. "I don't know what we're going to do." Burying my face in Steve's shirt, I wept profusely. He put an arm around me and, at that point, I knew why we we decided to fight this battle.
       

1 comment:

  1. Hospice care...

    And I liked the #wordofgod effect. We writers can be sadistic ... and masoschistic.

    ReplyDelete

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