Friday, January 15th
Today is surgery day.
My sleepy eyes fight to stay open.
After the nurses awoke us at five in the morning, everyone evacuated the room to find coffee and something to eat for breakfast. They left me alone with my favorite nurse, Krista.
Blake went to check on his building, promising me he would be back in time for my surgery prep. He gave me a long kiss before departing, leaving me smitten for almost an hour. His touch almost sent me into a love coma.
He does crazy things to me.
Krista turns on the shower, and places a towel on the counter for me. I rub my tired eyes and stretch while a yawn comes rushing out.
"Are you alright to get in there by yourself?" She politely asks as I rise from my sweat-ridden bed.
"I think I'll be fine," I groan. My legs slide to the side of the mattress, and slowly, I push my weight onto my toes as I get up.
Sitting in bed for two days was probably not the best idea.
"Okay, I'll be in the hallway if you need me."
I nod as I make my way to the warm running shower. The heat against my bare back feels heavenly.
I try not to relax too much; considering the last time, I took a warm shower. Honestly, I don't think passing out would feel good with the number of drugs and steroids they have me on.
Scrubbing my finally healed body, I relish the feeling of no pain anywhere. My bruises and cuts have disappeared, leaving only small sores. Despite the headache and minor trouble speaking, I feel fine.
But, I know all of that is about to change. After the surgery, who knows what I'll be able to do. Maybe, my lungs will be so damaged, that I won't be able to talk. Maybe my body will be so broken that I won't be able to stand. On top of that, the chemo will put me in a state of sluggishness, causing me to sleep all the time.
I shudder at the thought of not being able to do anything without assistance. Sure, I love Krista and all, but I don't want to depend on her for everything. I don't want my family to spend their entire lives in the hospital.
Turning off the shower, I step out and wipe the foggy mirror. I look back at my frail reflection and begin to brush my hair.
I'm going to miss this, I think to myself.
I put it in a small braid and slip on the fresh hospital gown that Krista laid out for me. As I brush my teeth, my stomach begins to grumble in anxiousness.
Stepping out of the bathroom, the dimly lit room scares me. I put on the hospital socks from my bed and rummage through my suitcase for a blanket.
"You ready?" Grant's voice startles me.
"God, you scared me," I gasp, and put a hand on my chest.
"Sorry," He chuckles while putting down a coffee cup, "What are you looking for?"
"Pinky," I admit and continue to rummage through my suitcase, "I can't find that damn blanket anywhere."
Grant walks toward me, and I groan in frustration.
"Hey," He says while closing the suitcase, "Is this about something else? Are you nervous about your surgery? Because if you are, that's okay."
"Obviously, I'm nervous, Grant. I've never even been under anesthesia, let alone had major surgery. Who knows what could go wrong?"
"You can't think like that," He warns in a soft tone, "You've got to be positive."
"Yeah, it's hard to be positive when the odds are not in my favor," I counter, "And I'm not ready to leave yet. I haven't even said my goodbyes."
Grant pulls me into his arms, and I breathe, trying to calm myself down.
"You're okay," He whispers, "You're going to be okay."
I let him comfort me, knowing that what he was saying is just a broken dream. Only God knows what is going to happen to me, and he seems pretty upset with me lately.
"How about I go home and look for Pinky? I'll bring her in time for your surgery, and you can have your good luck charm with you," Grant proposes.
"Okay," I nod.
"Alright, I'll be back in a bit," He kisses my forehead and grabs his keys on the way out of the room.
I think about what I just said; I haven't even said my goodbyes.
The nurses in the hallway are startled when I walk out of the room and to the desk lady.
"Hi, sweetheart! What's the matter?" She says with a heavy country accent.
"Nothing wrong. I just have a question," I voice quietly, scared to wake up the other patients.
"Do you have any paper and a pencil that I could use?"
"Of course!" The country lady hands me a stack of notebook paper and an assortment of colorful pens.
I thank her and head back to my dark hospital room. Closing the door, I turn on the bright lights and get to work. Writing has never been my strong suit, but I manage to get my point across in these letters.
I write one for my mom, one for my dad, one for Grant, one for Elise, and one for Blake. Each letter is a couple of pages, and by the time I finish, my hand feels like it may fall off.
Carefully, I fold each letter and put it in a brown envelope. Writing names on top of them, I give it to Krista to hand out in case anything happens during my surgery.
She sadly complies and takes the letters to her desk.
"Knock, knock," My dad emphasizes as he walks through the door.
"Whatcha doing at the desk, Bry?"
"I'm just reading a book," I say as I point to a random romance novel I have never heard of.
"Sweet," He whistles while walking around the room, checking random things.
"Dad?"
"Yep?"
"What are you doing?"
"Well, I'm...." He stumbles over his words.
I give him a look of sly confusion, and he starts laughing. I can't remember the last time I heard his laugh. It's pretty great.
"I just want to spend some time with you before the big surgery," He gulps.
"Okay," I say acceptingly.
"Hey, I heard that there is a beautiful sunrise this morning. Do you wanna go see it?" He excitingly proposes.
I do love a good sunrise.
"Sure, dad. Let's go."
We both walk out of the room and into the long white hospital hallway. Most of the rooms are empty, which makes me happy because the hospital is an awful place to spend your time.
We make it to the elevator, and my dad presses the lobby button. The elevator music turns on, and my dad and I immediately start laughing. We have a weird sense of humor that only works when we are around each other. It's hard to explain, but sometimes it feels like we are on the same wavelength.
The IV line connected to my arm requires me to drag around an IV cart. I almost forget it in the elevator, causing my dad to run back in and quickly grab it before the doors close.
We finally make it to the beautiful courtyard of the giant hospital. The trees are bare and dry, swaying to the rhythm of the wind. Despite the chilly air, I manage to walk a couple of laps around the garden with my dad.
Sitting on a park bench, we both relax in silence while watching the sunrise from the horizon. The hues of pink and orange are striking as they grow brighter every second. A blue butterfly lands on my hand and stays there for a couple minutes. I chuckle and show my dad as it flies away, free to the world.
"Butterflies are good luck, you know," He hums while sitting back and absorbing the sunlight. "I just know that you are going to rock this surgery."
I can't help but chuckle at the look of sureness on his face. It's like he can see into the future.
He reaches into his pocket and hands me a small black velvet box.
"This was supposed to be for your 17th birthday, but I figured you could use it right now."
The anticipation in his eyes is unreal while I slowly open the box. My breath hitches as I realize what the gift is.
A silver butterfly necklace.
"Remember when you were younger, and we would go to the park. Those butterflies could never seem to get enough of you. We thought it was the bright coloring of your clothes, so the next day you came dressed in all black. Those darned things still managed to hover over you the whole time you were there. Mom said that they were protecting you from harm, but I had my speculations. You always seemed to attract them in times of danger. I just thought that this necklace could be a good luck charm for you."
"I don't know what to say, dad," I mutter.
He wraps his arm around me and pulls me to his side.
"Thank you," I whisper as I drape my arm around him.
"Of course, anything for my girl."
His phone starts to ring, and he picks it up.
"Hello? Alright, we will be there in a second," He responds,
"Dr. Khan is ready for you."
I shudder at the thought of surgery.
"Hey, it is going to be okay." My dad says as he gets up from the park bench.
"Come on," He stretches his hand out to me.
I grab it and follow him back into the hospital, drowned by the sterile stench. I squint my eyes after supposedly seeing Grant.
The closer he gets, I realize that he has returned with my favorite blanket and a box of chocolates.
"For us to share when you get out of surgery," He boasts while handing me the blanket.
"Thanks," I show my appreciation by giving him a small side hug.
"You guys seem pretty confident that this surgery going well," I admit.
"Because it is," My dad confesses, "I have a feeling that Dr. Khan is going to try his best and remove as many tumors as possible, giving you a fighting chance at chemo."
He almost sounds convinced that I am going to beat this cancer.
Maybe he's right, and I will make it through this surgery totally unscathed.
But maybe he's wrong, and my entire life will change when I wake up in that hospital bed.
Only time will tell.
Time from a clock that is ticking at fast speeds.
I just hope it doesn't stop.