Take a Chance on Me

Fifty-three

I snuggle deeper into the crook between Alex's arm and torso and pull his blanket closer to my chest. I can wake up here, in his bed, every day for the rest of my life. I've been here every weekend for the past month, so why not mix in a few days during the week too?

Just as sleep is about to pull me under again, my phone rings next to me on the bedside table. I have half a thought to ignore it, but something in me tells me to lift my heavy head off of Alex and peek at the caller ID. 

Dad

He doesn't normally call me. I get a text checking in on me every few days, but a phone call seems more serious. When it rings for the fourth time, I quickly pick it up before it goes to voicemail. 

"Dad?"

I hear his heavy breathing through the speaker. "Hi honey."

"Is everything okay?" At this point Alex is awake, trying to have a conversation nonverbally with a puzzled expression. I shrug my shoulders in response.

"I'm not feeling super great at the moment. I don't want you to worry, but I don't think it's a good idea for me to drive right now. Do you think you can take me to the hospital? I'm sorry to ruin your morning."

"Don't apologize. I'll be there in 20 minutes. I love you, Dad."

"I love you too."

-

I park outside of my dad's house and rush through the front door to find him laying on the couch, pale and soaked in sweat. My heart is beating out of my chest. I'm terrified of what is happening to him. I make a mental note to keep Alex updated once we get to the hospital. He offered to accompany me, but I declined, wanting my complete attention on my dad. 

I drive as fast as I possibly can to the hospital with my dad sitting silently next to me in the passenger seat. He is never silent. He always asks about my day and plans our next father daughter dinner. Him sitting in silence isn't normal. And it scares me. 

I pull up to the emergency room doors, jump out of the car, and start calling for help. "I need help! Please! My dad, he's not doing well." The hospital is busy and the employees are bypassing me, attending to incoming ambulances. I grab an employee's arm to get his attention, pointing to the passenger side of the car. "My dad needs help. Please." He nods his head and calls inside for a wheelchair. As I follow him into the hospital with my dad in the wheelchair, the sterile smell permeates my nostrils, making my body weak. 

-

I sit in the waiting room while they run tests and I feel like I have been here for days even though it has only been a few hours. My phone vibrates in my pocket with a text from Alex.

How is he doing?

Still haven't heard anything. I'll let you know when I do.

I'm here if you need anything. Stay strong. 

All I can do to pass the time is stare at the white tile flooring in the waiting room. I begin to count them, starting over each time someone new takes a seat. I wonder what they are all going through. Is it all bad? Is everyone thinking about how they could potentially lose a loved one? Or is anyone here to welcome new life into the world? 

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, ... 27, 28, 29

1, 2, 3

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, ... 52, 53

"Adams? For David Adams," a doctor in a long, white coat says when he enters the room, breaking my concentration on counting the tiles.

"Here. I'm Leah, his daughter."

"Follow me this way."

He escorts me to my dad's room, but we don't enter. I see him asleep and agree that the doctor and I should have the conversation outside as to not wake him. 

"There's no easy way to say this, but his brain tumor came back."

Came back? What does he mean came back? He's describing it as if it were here once before. Not as if this is something new. "What do you mean? What brain tumor? He previously had a brain tumor?"

"He came in a few months ago to have it removed. We had our best surgeons on it. They thought they had it all, but it's back. I'm so sorry."

Brain tumor. He has a brain tumor. He can't have a brain tumor. This isn't possible. There's no way. My stomach drops and my vision blurs. I use my hand to steady myself against the wall.

"Are you okay? I know this news is difficult to hear, but we are going to do absolutely everything in our power to make him healthy again. All you can do is be there for him. He needs you to be strong." 

I have no words. I nod to him and walk into my dad's room, pulling a chair up to the side of his bed. I hold his hand in mine and when his eyes begin to flutter open, my eyes begin to water. 

"Don't cry, honey," his raspy voice echoes in my head. "Everything will be okay."

"You don't know that, daddy."

"I do. You want to know why? Because you're here. And the two of us can make it through anything." He squeezes my hand and I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but a strangled sob escapes."

"Why didn't you tell me? That you had one before?"

"They thought they got it all and I didn't want to scare you for no reason. I'm so sorry honey."

I shake my head, refusing for him to take any responsibility for this. He has nothing to be sorry for. He was trying to protect me. 

I swallow my sobs and wipe my tears, determined to have an adult conversation about this. "What's going to happen now? What do we do? What can I do to help?"

"I need to stay here for a few nights so that they can monitor me, but in a few days I can go home. And when I get home me, you, Gabby, and Alex are going to have a nice dinner and watch a movie. How does that sound?"

I rise from my seat to hug my dad as hard as I can, taking special care to avoid tangling any of the tubing. I give him a kiss on the cheek as I try to hide the new tears forming. "That sounds perfect."