Chapter three

58 4 0
                                    

Cassandra Arizona Night point of view

A month passes. May's condition is getting worse, I can feel that I'm reaching my breaking point. I can't even go out on my own without thinking about her 24/7. No, if I leave the house, the first thing I do when I'm back is checking on May, seeing if she's still alive, but today I have no choice. I've had one chemo session since May's home, today's my second. Last time, she was with me, but now, I have to on my own because all she does is sleeping. Trudy offered to stay with me, but I told her I wanted to be alone for a while. I haven't been alone in two weeks. Either Chelsea was with me, or I was with May. Chelsea came by and promised to stand with us every step of the way, to help us out. May wanted to speak to her. Later on I heard that she asked to keep an eye on me after she passes away, so that the doctors can help me if I show signs of weakness, if I can't handle it. I can't see why, but she did, she promised her to do that.

The bus feels empty without May holding my hand, but it was my choice not to let anyone come with me. With my iPod plugged into my ear and a song of Nirvana blasting through my ear, I feel less sick. It makes me forget everything for a while. Not long enough to really forget everything, but long enough to reach the hospital. The wig on my head feels like it weighs a ton, but this too was my idea. If people didn't stare at me that hard, I would feel more comfortable with myself. Losing my hair wasn't good for my  self-confidence. It almost disappeared. With fake lashes, painted eyebrows and a wig, I felt more comfortable, at least for a while. By the time the bus reaches the hospital, I feel okay with myself. As I sign myself in and walk over to the oncology department, I feel the familiarity creeping up on me. I've done this before, it'll be okay. The first months, I have been doing this alone too, why shouldn't I be able to do that now?

The doctor plugs me in and soon, the first drips of chemo roll into my body. I miss May's hands on my shoulders and I almost can't keep myself from crying. When I see that the most other patients in the room are alone, I feel somewhat better. I'm not the only one who is feeling this way, who is alone. If they can fight this on their own, I can. The most of them are either throwing up or reading a magazine. I take the book from my purse and continue reading. The last years I haven't really read much and I feel stupid for not doing that at the moment. Lately I have found comfort in books, they help me get through this. The book I am currently reading -  Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson – isn't really a feel good book, but it sort of helps me, thinking that there are people with other issues and illnesses who feel worse than I do. Normally, finding comfort in other people's pain would be cruel, but right now I don't give a fuck. One girl, I know. She has been around every time I had my chemo sessions. Her schedule must match mine.

'Why isn't your girlfriend with you?' she asks curiously and looks at me with big blue eyes. She looks cute in a way.

'She's dying,' I say coldly,' and I didn't want her to get sick because she's here with me. I would feel too guilty.'

'I'm sorry to hear that. I'm Rachel, by the way.'

'I'm Cassandra. Nice to meet you.'

'Nice to meet you too.'

The chemo doesn't make me as sick as it always does, but I'm glad when it's over.  Concentrating on my book was fairly easy and I had to throw up only once. Which was good, considering I had to throw up about three times, last time.  I wait for Rachel, but I don't have to wait long.

'Do you want my boyfriend to give you a ride home? I bet he doesn't mind.' Rachel walks over to me after the doctor allows her to go home.

'If your boyfriend doesn't mind, I would like to.'

'Okay! Great. We'll have to wait for about a half an hour, he's late, but if you want we can head over to the cafeteria. The coffee's good over there and coffee always helps me to get rid of the nausea.'

Our freedom flew awayWhere stories live. Discover now