Look out for the <>!
"You're going to feel a big pinch," the nurse said as she gave me an IV. I watched her stick the needle into my arm as I laid in a hospital bed that was a bit too big for me. I've had so many needles in me over the past three years that I didn't even flinch this time around.
When I was first diagnosed, I was so afraid of needles, to the point of tears every time some nurse would bring one out. But I overcame my fear after I learned that there were more important things to be afraid of.
Today was Monday and that meant I got to spend all afternoon at the hospital with the new treatment. This was exactly what I wanted to do on my summer break, working on my pasty tan. "Good, well, this will run for about two hours. And you know the rest. Push the button if you need anything," she smiled at me.
I gave her a half-smile just to make her feel better. My poor mood was not her fault. She as well as all the other nurses tried their best to keep me uplifted, but it hardly ever worked. "You'll be the first one I call."
She smiled at me and squeezed my hand before walking out of the room. Nurse Jensen had been my nurse for over a year and she was one of my favorites. She had seen me at my highs and my lows, and I felt she understood me.
Shortly after Nurse Jensen left, mom and dad walked in with smiles that seemed a little too fake to be real.
I held back a frown that wanted to spread across my face. I didn't like how they always tried to force their happiness, especially here. The hospital sucked, and it sucked that I was here. They didn't have to pretend that everything was ok because it wasn't and it was obvious. With their fake smiles, I don't think I would ever truly understand what went behind their minds.
"This is going to take another two hours. Did you want to go grocery shopping or something while you wait?" I asked before they had the chance to say anything.
They looked at each other for a second as if they were reading each other's minds. They looked unsure, as if they didn't want to leave me alone with this new treatment.
"Relax. This isn't my first rodeo. I'll be fine." Just because it was a new treatment didn't mean that it was all new for me. This treatment was going to be the same that I was used to. They didn't need to stay around for that.
"Ok. Remember, if you feel up to it, go to the support group today," mom reminded me for the fifth time today.
I rolled my eyes at her. "Ick. I think that will be the last place I go to. Being around a bunch of sick kids? I'll pass, thanks though," I said honestly, unable to hold my thoughts from her. I hadn't been to the support group meeting in about a year in a half. I just found it depressing to be around other cancer patients. Plus, I didn't like the reminder that I was as sick as them.
"Please, Clare? You might like it," dad pitched in.
He knew that was a lie. I had never liked them. Why would I like them now? I sighed at them in silence. If dad says something, that means it was really important to them. He was normally the quiet one in our family. Going must mean something to them. But did I really want to go? No. But should I think about them? Yes. This would make them happy for whatever reason, and I should consider their wishes. "I'll think about it."
Dad smiled at me, happy with my response. "Thanks. It's on this floor in room-"
"445, yeah I know," I cut him off to so show him I still knew where it was. "Now, go have fun. I'm not going anywhere," I said, trying to shoo them off. If they stayed here any longer, I wouldn't have any alone time.
They both gave me a small smile as they hugged goodbye, then left. I waited a minute until I went to my phone for entertainment. Almost instantly, interrupting me from my social media was a text from Peter. Not used to people texting me, the buzzing made me jump, almost causing me to drop my phone onto the icy floor.
I felt my heart flutter as I read the message. I hadn't heard from him for two days, and I was thinking he wasn't interested in me anymore, finally realizing that I was too boring.
"Hey Clare! What are you doing today?" the message read.
I thought about the rules that Farrah told me I had to follow regarding texting back. But I didn't want to follow them, since I found them too constricting. Instead, I quickly responded to him, not having enough patience to wait. "I have to run errands with my parents :(" I lied, not willing to tell him what was really eating away at my free time.
A minute later he responded, "all day long?"
I frowned at my phone, as if he could see it. I would be here for at least three hours, and then I would probably throw up my guts all night. There was no way I would be in shape to hang with him today. "Yeah..." I said and hit send in a rather frustrated manner.
Anger ran through me as I looked around the walls that held me here. I hate being here. Cancer ruined everything. Cancer held me back from so many things I have lost count. It was slowly suffocating me.
There was a minute as I waited for a response for him. I was sure he was thinking about what to say to me. If I kept telling him no, he would give up. Farrah made that clear when she was telling the rules of relationships. He would think I was blowing him off. This might have already sealed the deal.
"Oh... I wanted to take you out swimming today... another time then?" the reply read.
He was clearly disappointed. I wondered if he really wanted to get together or was he just being nice. A part of me was still convinced that he was with me because I was the only girl he had talked to.
I sighed loudly and resisted the urge to throw my phone at the wall. "Another time," I typed back to him. I wanted to go with him. I wanted to have fun and be young. I felt tears collect in my eyes. I hated my life. I raised my phone over my head, seriously thinking about throwing it at the wall to release my frustration, but a voice stopped me.
"That frustrated?" Dr. Patel asked as walked in. I looked at him and slowly lowered my phone back to my lap. He always had a habit of walking in on the most inopportune times.
I wiped the tears from my eyes to look at him clearly. Today he wore bags under his eyes, making him look more tired than I was. I wondered what was keeping him up at night, but I resisted asking the question.
I shrugged. "Yeah, you can say I'm pissed. Cancer ruins everything," I said honestly. Sometimes I felt like I was more honest towards him than I was towards my parents. I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was a vibe he gave off, so trustworthy, or maybe it was because he had known me for so long I knew he wouldn't judge me, not like my parents would. Or maybe it was because he was my doctor and there was no way of hiding anything from him.
He sighed as he sat down on a chair next to me. For a second he was silent as he tried to come up with the right words to say. "Clare," he began. "I can't say I know exactly what you mean, but I have treated enough patients to have a strong idea of what cancer is like. I'll not give you another pep talk about how you can beat this and you'll be fine because I know your parents give those to you regularly."
I chuckled at him in silence, knowing that he was right.
"I'm just going to say that cancer sucks. It sucks away your life, your friends, your strength, and everything else in between. But if it counts for something, you handle cancer differently than anyone else I have treated. You handle it with Clare," he chuckled at me as if his play on words cracked him up and then added, "and that works for you. You're a strong girl, Clare, and I don't just say that to anyone."
I gave him a small smile because that was the first time I have heard him laugh. My goal was complete. There was a reason he was my favorite doctor in the world. "I know I'm strong, but sometimes, most of the time, I don't feel that way. I feel so weak and fragile all the stinking time. I get frustrated when I can't do something because I knew in the past that I could do those things."
He shrugged, as if the answer was simple. "Cancer's never easy. But I didn't know you as a quitter. When has something hard stopped you before?"
"It hasn't," I said matter-of-factly.
He smiled. "That's what I thought. I know cancer sucks, but over the past few years, I have seen you change into this amazing young woman sitting in front of me today. Without this hardship in your life, you wouldn't have changed into this amazing, strong, determined, brutally honest, sarcastic person."
"But what if I was happy with the person I was beforehand?" I asked carefully.
"Well, the funny thing about life is that it constantly makes people change. You're never going to the same person you were three years ago. I have seen some people crumble when they found out they had cancer. But you, if you ask me, you blossomed. You've changed for the better," he leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.
I wasn't sure if he fell asleep, but I didn't dare wake him. I think he had a long day. There were a few minutes of silence, and then he opened his eyes and looked back at me. "Did you read the information I gave you?" he asked.
Oh yeah, that was what I had to do for this weekend. "No, I forgot. Sorry."
He smiled. "Well, at least I can count on your honesty today. I thought you would, that's why I came to give you this," he said as he dug around in his briefcase. "Figured you had nothing better to do right now," he added, as he gave me a stack of papers.
The papers fell heavy on my lap, crushing not just my legs but my soul as I looked at them. Oh, lovely. My favorite. Just when school finished, I got more fun things to read about. Remind me again why he was my favorite? "Thanks. You're too kind," I sarcastically said as I took the papers and put them on a small table beside me.
He gave me a small smile. "I know I am. So how are your symptoms doing and please be honest with me. Your parents aren't in the room so I don't want you to hold back."
I thought about what to say for a minute and then said, "I've had more nose bleeds recently."
"How many?"
"Like three since the last visit."
He frowned, and I didn't like that look. His face was full of worry and when a doctor gives you that face you know something's wrong. "I want you to do an MRI today. I'm thinking we might need to start a more aggressive approach."
I felt my stomach drop. Aggressive. The word bounced around in my mind like a kid on a trampoline. I thought this was already an aggressive approach. There must be something really wrong with me this time. "I'm dying for real this time, aren't I?" I blurted out, unable to control my thoughts.
His frown deepened. It was the truth, but he wouldn't admit it. "Not if I can help it. Clare, I'll do all that I can to make sure you have a long happy life here on earth."
I nodded at him, but I paid little attention to what he was telling me. All that was on my mind was that I was dying. In the back of my mind, I knew I was. I could feel it in my bones more so than in the past. But it was harder to hear it from him. I felt water well up into my eyes. "Thanks for being honest with me."
He nodded and put his hand on mine. He gave me a small smile and left the room. As soon as he left the room, I cried. I was glad my parents went out so I could be alone. I didn't want them to see me like this. If they saw me cry they would cry too, then it would be one big crying party. No one liked that. It was messy and depressing. This was my pity party, and that was how I wanted to keep it.
I was able to regain myself after a few minutes, convinced that there was no use crying about something that was already happening. People say that positive thinking could help with sicknesses. Maybe it was time to try that thinking again. I decided that from now on I would not focus on the fact that my cancer was slowly killing me. I was going to beat it. I was going to live life to the fullest; I wanted to live, not just be alive.
I wiped my nose and slowly got out of the bed I was sitting in. I was going to appear at the support meeting for the first time in a year and a half. Today I would make my parents happy.
With my IV pole in hand, I went down the hall to a large room with about 15 other kids sitting around a circle. I stood in the doorway awkwardly as I looked for an empty seat. "Come on in. Don't be a stranger," said a smiley, friendly young woman that looked fresh out of college. As soon as she said that, almost all the kids turned to face me.
I shrunk slightly, not liking all those eyes on me. So much for not drawing attention to myself. I gave an awkward smile to them and a small wave. "Hi," I said, as I quickly found a seat. I sat next to a young boy, maybe 13 years old, and a girl that looked to be my age with a nose piercing.
<>
"Hi, I'm Anna!" the girl with the nose piercing said and smiled brightly at me.
Her punk vibe made her appear quiet, but as I looked at her smile, I realized that her personality was just the opposite. I could tell by just that smile she was not a punk person but a cheerful person who would chat your ear off, a typical Midwesterner.
I held back a frown that wanted to come to my face, knowing that I picked the wrong chair to sit in. I was not in the mood to deal with this amount of cheer. "Hi. Clare," I said bluntly to the girl that had long brown hair that matched her sun-kissed tanned skin.
"Are you new?" she brushed her hair behind her ear to show a few different piercings lining her ear.
I shrugged. Sure, let's go with that. "Kind of."
She raised her eyebrows in amazement. "Oh. I'm new too. What kind of cancer do you have?"
I chuckled at her cynically. She was a talker, but I wanted her to shut up. The shorter the meeting was, the better. "You don't ask people that kind of question."
She frowned at me, knowing she overstepped her bounds. "Oh," she mouthed. There was a minute of silence, then she spoke up again. "I have leukemia. Stage two. Just found out last month."
She didn't get the hint, did she? "That is nice." If I gave her no attention, maybe she would leave me alone. The last thing I wanted to do was to make friends in the support group. I already tried that. Most of them either died or got better. Either way, never to be seen again.
"I think it's time to begin. As most of you know, we'll be doing a talent show in two months. I'll be passing around a clipboard and if you're interested, please sign up. It should be a lot of fun," said the leader of the support group. She held up a blue clipboard and passed it around. "I see a lot of unfamiliar faces, so let's just introduce ourselves and say something interesting about yourself. You can say what kind of cancer you have and how long you have had it, but that's optional." She looked around the room and pointed at me. "Can we start with you?"
I raised my eyebrows at her and pointed to myself. "Me?" I asked, knowing I probably shouldn't have come to this.
She nodded. "Yeah. Mind introducing yourself?"
I shrugged. This day couldn't get any better. "I'm Clare Atkins. I'm 17 and I like to binge-watch shows and play piano."
"You should sign up for the talent show!" the leader said excitedly.
Didn't she tire of being excited all the time? For petty sakes, she worked at a place full of death. I'm sure it had to be exhausting. I held up my hands and shook my head. "Nah, I don't think so."
"Think about it. It might be fun," she said to me then looked at the girl beside me, waiting for her to speak up.
I doubt that.
"Hi, I am Anna da Cruz. I'm 16. I like to play field hockey and listen to music. I was just diagnosed with Leukemia stage two last month," she said.
I listened to the rest of the group talk about their likes and their dislikes and what kind of cancer they had. I think I was the only person who didn't talk about their cancer and that was fine with me. I didn't want them to know what I had. That was my secret never to share. Plus, I wasn't sure I would come back to this, so might as well stay silent. So I sat back in silence for the rest of the meeting.
"Will I see you next week for this?" Anna asked after the meeting was over.
She really didn't get the hint that I didn't want to be friends. "Maybe. I might be here." I replied.
"Awesome! See you then," she smiled brightly at me before she left the room.
I sat down until most people had left, and then I sat up from my chair. I held on tightly to my IV pole because I felt the room spin. But instead of sitting down and letting it pass, I pushed through, convinced that I could control it. At least that was what I continued to tell myself until I made it into my room.
Waiting there already for me were my parents. They were probably checking to see if I would actually go. "We're so happy you went to the support group meeting," dad said with a smile.
I shrugged. At least someone was happy about it. "Well, I had nothing better to do."
"Dr. Patel told us he wants you to do another MRI after this," mom said.
"Yeah," I said as I let my voice trail off, not willing to tell them what I found out from him earlier today.