The next two weeks did not go better. The chemo was knocking Jaime out. After each infusion he spent hours in the bathroom, throwing up the minimal contents of his stomach. He now had a feeding tube up his nose because he couldn't eat anything. He'd developed some sores in his throat from throwing up, which hurt him terribly. His lips were constantly chapped. We were going through lip balm like crazy. We found a mint scented one that didn't hurt his lips and didn't make him feel like throwing up, so we bought as much as we thought necessary.
Jaime slept. A lot. He was either awake and throwing up or asleep. He didn't talk much, both because of the sores and his constant fatigue.
Marvel tried cheering Jaime up but he just didn't have the energy to even try.
"Jaime," I said one evening before Meagan came by with the kids. "We need to discuss school."
"I'm not going," he said.
"Well, no. Not yet. That's for sure. But do you want to try keeping up online and with a tutor or do you want to take this semester, or even the whole year off?"
"Can I think about it?" He asked, his eyes closed against another wave of nausea, as he held his stomach.
"You can, but we need to come up with something soon. Also, is it okay if Meagan stays overnight with you? The boys miss me at home, and I have a few things I need to do for work."
"Yeah. That's fine." He said. He fell asleep again.
I'd noticed the determination from his first few treatments was gone. He seemed resigned to his current lot in life.
Jaime was fast asleep when Meagan and the kids came in.
"Do we have to come every time?" Saint asked. "All he does is sleep. It's boring."
"Your brother is fighting for his life!" Meagan said. "And you're complaining about being bored?"
Saint looked over at Jaime. He frowned. Not in anger but, I don't know. Concern? Confusion? Jaime had lost a lot of weight because eating had been so hard and the chemo was making him throw up what little he could force down.
Hating to do so, I woke Jaime up to let him know I was taking the kids home and that Meagan was here if he needed anything. He looked over at her, nodded and fell back to sleep. My heart broke. I hated seeing Jaime so sick. I hated what the medicine was doing to him. I hated that this was supposed to save his life.
I left with the boys and Marvel. All of us were silent as I drove Meagan's car home.
"Dad?" Saint said from the back seat.
"Yeah, Saint?" I replied.
"Is Jaime going to die?"
I nearly crashed into the car in front of me.
I pulled off the road into a parking lot and turned off the car. All three kids were silent as I sat and looked out the windshield, my hands gripping the steering wheel as I contemplated the question my youngest son had asked. It was one I didn't want to answer because I just didn't know.
"Dad?" Saint asked again. "I'm sorry. Forget I asked."
"No, it's okay, Saint. I just needed a second," I said. I turned around so I could see all three kids.
"The short answer is that I really don't know, Saint. The imaging he had done was okay. It showed that his cancer didn't spread, and they got everything during his surgery. So from that perspective, Jaime should be fine.
The treatments he's getting are hard on him. He's got sores in his throat from all the throwing up, which is why he has the tube up his nose. And he's having a hard time keeping anything down, so he's losing a lot of weight right now. And eventually, he's going to lose his hair. He's fighting so hard. And he really needs to know everyone is on his side."
Saint was silent. Bronx, sitting beside me in the front passenger seat was looking out the window. His jaw was set. Marvel, sensing the tension, just looked around at her brothers.
"Okay," Saint said, quietly.
I started the car and drove the rest of the way home. Nobody said anything. I would talk to the boys separately at home. I'd been spending so much time at the hospital with Jaime that I hadn't really gotten a chance to gauge how they were doing and handling all this.
As soon as we pulled into the driveway and I parked, both boys got out of the car. Bronx helped get Marvel out of her car seat and carried her inside. Saint went upstairs and I heard him close his bedroom door.
"Bronx, can you help Marvel get ready for bed? I want to talk to Saint. Then I'll come talk with you."
"Sure, Dad," Bronx said, leading Marvel upstairs. I followed and knocked on Saint's door.
"What?" He asked.
"Saint, can I come in?"
"I guess," he said. I opened the door. Saint was laying on his bed, his hands behind his head and just staring up at the ceiling. He
"Hey," I said, sitting on the bed beside him. "What's going on, huh? You know you can talk to me any time, right?"
"You're ever here, though," Saint said. I sighed. He wasn't wrong.
"I know. You're right. I've been at the hospital with Jaime. And I didn't stop to think about how any of this is affecting the rest of you. It's not fair. It hasn't been fair to any of you. And I'm sorry. I did a crappy job of balancing all this. And I will probably continue to do a crappy job balancing all this because Jaime needs me as much as the rest of you. Maybe more just now with everything he's dealing with."
"It's not fair," Saint said.
"I know. I'm sorry," I said.
"No. Not that you're not here. I mean, that's not fair either. But it's not fair that Jaime has cancer and could die. He just came to live with us. He finally feels like a big brother. England was fun with him. I don't want him to die."
"Saint," I said, turning his head to look at me. "Jaime isn't going to die. There's no sign anywhere that the cancer spread before we found it."
"What if they missed something?"
"I hope they didn't. They did enough imaging that they really should have not missed anything."
"But what if they did?"
"Hopefully the chemo will get rid of anything they missed before it gets a chance to turn into anything."
I was answering to the best of my ability. My kids hadn't had to deal with anything like this until Jaime came into our lives.
Saint sighed.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't want Jaime to die. I-I kinda like having him as a big brother."
I pulled my son up and hugged him.
"I'm kinda liking having him around, too," I smiled at my youngest son.
"How come he sleeps so much?" Saint asked.
"Well," I said. "The chemo makes him throw up, which is exhausting, and he can't eat much, so he hasn't got a lot of energy. He needs as much rest as he can get."
Saint nodded.
"You okay?" I asked him. He shrugged. I couldn't really ask for much more. "Saint, you can text me or call me any time when I'm at the hospital with Jaime, okay? Even if it's to talk about hard stuff."
"Okay," he said.
"Okay. Get ready for bed, and I'll come back and check on you in a little, okay? I'm going to go talk to Bronx for a minute."
"Okay," Saint said. I ruffled his hair and got up. Leaving his room I went into Marvel's room and saw she was already in pyjamas and in bed. I went and said good night to her. She was quiet and didn't ask for a story. To be honest, I wasn't sure I had the energy for one anyway.
"Good night my little princess," I smiled at her.
"Daddy?" She asked.
"Yes, pumpkin?" I replied.
"When Jaime is no more sick?"
"I don't know sweetheart. He has a long road ahead right now. First we have to make sure the boo boo stays away before he can start to feel better."
"That's why he takes the yucky medicine?" She asked.
"It is," I admitted. "It will make the boo boo stay away. But it also makes Jaime very sick and very tired. And when he comes home, he's going to still be getting the medicine, but less and less often until the doctor says he doesn't need it anymore."
Marvel nodded.
"I drawed Jaime a picture. But I forgetted to bring it today."
"You can bring it tomorrow, then. I bet it'll make Jaime feel better."
I said good night to my youngest child and went to check in on Bronx.
His door was also closed so I knocked.
"Yeah?" Bronx called out.
"Can I come in?" I asked.
"Yeah," he replied. I opened the door and saw Bronx sitting at his desk at his computer.
"How are you doing, Bronx?"
He sighed and turned to me. I was sitting on the end of his bed.
"I'm okay," he said.
"Really?"
"Yeah. I mean, it sucks that Jaime's sick, and it sucks that he's as sick as he is, but like you said, hopefully the medicine will help him kick cancer's ass and he'll be okay soon."
"That's the hope," I said. "But yeah. It sucks."
"Saint is scared Jaime's gonna die," Bronx said, as if I hadn't heard that straight from Saint already.
"I know. I talked with him. How about you?"
"Well, yeah. I'm scared of that, too. And I miss having you home but, someone needs to be with Jaime, too. And Meagan isn't his mom, so it makes sense that you would stay with him the most."
"Yeah. But it hasn't been fair to you kids that I haven't been home really at all since Jaime went into the hospital. I wasn't being fair to any of you."
"Really, Dad. It's okay. Marvel and Saint understand, even if they don't seem to."
"I hope so. Because Jaime has two more weeks in the hospital before he can come home. And then he has five more months of chemo after. We'll be back and forth to the hospital."
"Dad, do you promise Jaime's going to he okay?"
"I can't promise that. I can only tell you what I know and what I know is he has a very good chance to beat this. But I can't make promises about things I can't control."
"I guess that makes sense," Bronx said.
"Like I said to Saint, you guys can call or text me anytime when I'm at the hospital with Jaime. Even to discuss the harder things. I know I'm super focussed on Jaime right now, and you've all been amazing and patient. And Meagan says you're all being very helpful with your brother and sister and around the house. I know a lot has been dumped on you, but don't forget you're still a kid, okay?"
Bronx smiled at me.
"I won't. Dad?"
"Yep?"
"Can you come to my baseball game on Saturday?"
"I'll try. It'll depend on how Jaime's doing," I said.
"Okay," Bronx said, dejectedly.
"I really will try, Bronx."
He nodded. I said good night to him and reminded him lights out at ten.
I went back to Saint's room and saw he was in bed.
"Doing alright, Saint?" I asked.
"Yeah. I'm okay, Dad. Are you going to call Jaime before you go to bed?"
"I'm going to call Meagan before I go to bed. But I have some work to do, first."
"Can you tell her to tell Jaime I miss him and I hope he feels better?"
"Of course," I smiled at Saint.