Life in Technicolor

It looked like he just had the flu.

He was pale and slightly withdrawn but it was a sight that Val had been accustomed too. Andrew was always the unfortunate one who caught every flu and 24-hour virus that there was. With a sharp lurch in her stomach Val remembered how quickly he managed to get over the virus attacks, and how different it would be this time.

The only sign of his severe illness was the drip that had been taped to his right hand. But he was stood resolutely at his window looking out at New York. The silver stand with the bag of liquid vitamins was right at his side.

She dropped Pepito, who yapped indigently, and ran straight over to Andrew throwing her arms around him. Andrew fell into the hug, holding onto Val as tightly as possible. They stayed that way for a while, not speaking, just holding on to each other as if that was going to make everything right. They only moved apart because Pepito had waddled up to Andrew and was tugging at his trouser leg for attention.

He picked the small pug up and scratched its ears. He looked up at Valeria and it was only then that she noticed the heavy dark bags under Andrew’s tired eyes.

“Val you really shouldn’t have come,” he began to say but Valerie cut across him.

“Don’t be stupid Andrew,” she said with slight severity. “No way was I going to stay in LA and leave you here. No way.”

Andrew feigned defeat and smiled at her. In reality he was glad and overjoyed that she had come, she had literally dropped everything to fly to New York within the same night that he had called her. He watched her as she pulled her suitcase inside the room, in the rush to see him she had left everything outside. Now that she was here he could feel a little more at ease.

“So I guess you want to hear everything the doctors have said to me then?” he asked with a shrewd grin. He knew Valerie; she would either interrogate Andrew himself or hunt down the doctor and pin him down until he gave her answers.

To his surprise she shook his head.

“Not tonight Andrew,” she said with a soft smile as she pulled her clear plastic bag out of her hand luggage and searched for some lip balm.

Now it was his turn to take notice of her tiredness. Her eyes were bloodshot and he could see the beginnings of the caffeine shakes start to set in.

Before Andrew had even told Valerie which hospital he had been put in, she had already retrieved her suitcase and emptied her whole wardrobe into it. As he was finally giving the name of the hospital away she was already out the door and flagging a taxi down. In the space of forty-five minutes Valerie had purchased a ticket, checked Pepito and his cage in, steamed through security and almost knocked the ground staff at the gate over in her desperation to get on the red eye. Her body still felt like it was back in California.

But now that she was here, she didn’t want to have to face up to the sickness that was going to be plaguing Andrew just yet.

Andrew nodded in understanding. It had taken him long enough to come to terms with what was going to happen to his body, he was anxious and unwilling to put Valerie through the same thing.

Instead Valarie changed into a pair of loose fitting track pants and her stepfather’s Yale jumper. She collapsed onto the bed beside Andrew, who had been playing with Pepito, and rested her head on his shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay you know?” Valerie said thickly and slowly into Andrew’s shoulder before the exhaustion finally overwhelmed her, hoping that there was some truth in what she said.

Valerie woke up early in the morning. Her sleep had been restless. Instead of finding the blackness of sleep comforting it was frightening and unsettling. She smiled though when she saw that Andrew had in his sleep, placed an arm around her protectively. Pepito was sleeping curled up on Val’s coat on the floor.

She managed to slide out of bed without waking Andrew up and successfully extracted a pair of light colour jeans from her suitcase along with a loose and deep cut tank top. New York was sweltering hot in May and even the hospital building seemed to be taking in the rising heat despite the early hour. Having changed and scrunched her auburn hair into a bun, she picked up Pepito and put him in the bathroom closing the door behind him. The last thing she wanted was for the nurses to find him.

With her mind firmly set she went out in the search for a cup of coffee, but as she walked past the reception desk a new thought struck her. As she began to approach her courage and determination was fading fast. However before she could turn away and get that cup of coffee the receptionist looked up at Valerie with a smile.

“Can I help you M’am?”

Valerie wrung her hands and struggled to form her question.

“Is it possible to speak to… Mr McMahon’s doctor please?”

“What’s your name please and are you family?” The receptionist asked.

“My name is Valerie Hart and I’m his best friend, practically family. Please?” She asked pleadingly.

The receptionist was a slightly plump middle aged woman, the lines around her eyes and mouth spoke of laughter and Valerie saw a framed picture on the desk of three children. She was sure that Mrs Hamilton must be a great mother. She looked at the visibly distressed Valerie in sympathy and was reminded of her own daughter who must have the same age as her. So she decided to find the doctor’s name regardless

Mrs Hamilton’s face had at first been a smiling picture of helpfulness, but once she pulled up Andrew’s record her smile dipped slightly. It was at times like this when she hated working on the cancer ward. Yet again another young person. It was unnatural to her.

She got up and gestured to Valerie that she would only be a minute. She appeared seconds later with a tall tanned but grey haired man behind her. The latter came towards her smiling with his hand outstretched.

“Hello my name is Doctor Jonathan Archer, I understand you wanted to talk to me. Please come through to my office.”

His efficiency and professionalism was comforting. Without saying anything else he led her down the corridor and held the door of a spacious, and at the same time comforting office open. He indicated that she should take a seat in the light brown chair in front of the desk, and once he himself was settled he looked at her warmly.

“So you’re here for Andrew.”

She liked it that he didn’t say: “You’re here about Andrew.” Because she was truly here for Andrew in every way possible.

“He called me last night in Los Angeles and told me that he was admitted here and that you’d done some tests on him. He said that you guys think it might be…” she chocked on the last word, unable to say it out loud.

“Cancer.” Doctor Archer finished for her.

Valerie could only manage a nod, and suddenly found that her throat was becoming thick and that small tears were collecting at the corner of her eyes. She blinked furiously. The last thing she wanted to do was cry.

“We ran a diagnostic test yesterday and I think that it’s best to call the rest of Andrew’s family Miss Hart. I think they are going to want to be here.”

Without realizing she had gripped onto the edge of Doctor Archer’s desk and was holding onto it furiously. Her knuckles were turning white and her arms were shaking.

“Why?” She asked in a panic. “What has he got?”

“The last test shows that Andrew has acute lymphoblastic leukaemia.”

The room went silent. The doctor tried to keep his composure, but it was difficult because he could see that Valerie’s world was falling down around her.

“Acute?” She managed to bring out, her voice rasping and thick. “What does that mean?”

The doctor himself took a deep breath in and looked at Valerie with a steady gaze that was supportive and sympathetic all at the same time.

“Acute refers to the short time course of the disease. It can be fatal in as little as a few weeks if untreated.”

With that Valerie burst into hysterical tears that showed no signs of stopping.