Cancer

Cancer

He lay in the bed, looking so pale and fragile. I remember it as if it was yesterday, my love, wasting away on the hospital bed. His skin pulled taught over his bones. His eyes sunken in, and patches of hair on his head, the hair that refused to fall out. The chemo, though running it’s course, wasn’t working. The cancer had spread even more, and the doctors didn’t give him long to live. I sat in a chair, next to his bed, holding his pale and cold hand. His skin a sallow color. His eyes, once lively, were now dull.

The hums of the machines, reminded me of my hate for the hospital. A place that is supposed to save lives, but yet here is my love, laying in bed and dying. Some place. My eyes wouldn’t go to his face, couldn’t look at what he became, what he is now. The face that I once knew, swimming behind my mind’s eye. The way I want to remember him, I didn’t want to remember him as some sickly person. The memories I wanted to remember was of his face, when he was happy, sad, or angry. The way the feeling just filled it.

“Melody?”

“Yes, Brian?”

“Why don’t you look at me?” He asked in a small voice, it was low and not like it once used to be.

I didn’t know what to say, should I just come out and tell him why? That he wasn’t the guy I once knew, no, that would sound so selfish. I didn’t want that, I didn’t want to be selfish, but I just couldn’t look at him. He was a skeleton, withering away on the hospital bed. Even his hand, in mine, felt different. His fingers, the bones were protruding through, it was like I was hanging onto a skeletons hand, instead of a person’s hand.

The placid tears fell, staining my cheeks. It’s hard to see him laying there, when you knew him as a strong person. A person that was always so hyper, that now, is confined to a bed. Struck down, when he’s only just begun living. Not even in his mid-twenties, and very athletic, though he hated sports. The basketball coach wanted him to join the team, but he turned them down. The memory, bringing a small; but not real, smile to my face.

The ever omnipresent future, lingered over us, so dark and dank. We both knew, knew that he was going to die, but we both didn’t want to believe it. Didn’t want to believe, that we were never going to get married, that we were never going to have kids. I’ve known him my whole life, and now, now he’s going to die.

He looked to me, as if looking for an answer. I didn’t notice that my thoughts ran away with me, that I left him, staring at me; waiting.

“I don’t know Brian, I just can’t.”

“What do you mean? I’m still the same person. Still the Brian you know.”
“No you’re not,” I said in a low voice, fearing it would betray my calm demeanor that I had put up.

“Cancer hasn’t changed me, just my outward appearance. I’m still the fun loving, quad racing, dirt biking Brian, you used to know,” the pain in his voice was evident, and it put a crack in my facade. He knew, he knew that he was chipping away at my tough exterior. The wall I built up, I didn’t want to be vulnerable, Melody doesn’t do vulnerable.

My voice shook as I replied, “It has changed you You’re not the same ”

I picked myself up from the chair, and contemplated throwing it through the glass, wondering how many people would come rushing through the room. My mind entertained that thought, as I stood there, staring at the chair, but I knew that wouldn’t help me at all. It wasn’t the chairs fault, but whose fault was it?

I needed to get out of that room, I felt as if the walls were closing in on me. Choking the very air from my lungs, like long fingers wrapping tightly around my neck. My breathing became heavy, and I started to get dizzy. I could hear my name being called, but I couldn’t say anything back. What was going on? I clawed at my throat, as if trying to get the fingers to loosen, to get air back to my lungs. Everything was becoming a big blur, then slightly going to gray, before going completely black.

Waking up, my eyes blinked open; slowly, one and then twice. A blurry picture formed in front of them, as my eyes tried to focus, taking only a couple more blinks. Staring me in the face, was a startlingly white, ceiling. I groaned, my throat feeling dry, as if I had been screaming at the top of my lungs. I had no recollection of what happened, the only thing I do remember is getting up, and thinking about throwing a chair.

“Good you’re awake,” a strange voice filtered through my ears.

“What happened?” I croaked out, my voice hoarse, from the lack of use.

“You had a mild panic attack, followed by a blackout. I’ll say you hit your head pretty hard on the floor, but no worries, did little damage.”

I rubbed at my head slightly, feeling a bit of pain course through it.

“How’s Brian?”

His face turned somber, and my eyes widened. He couldn’t have..could he? He went about checking my vitals, completely disregarding my question.

“How’s Brian?!?” I asked, this time raising my voice a little, straining it a bit.

“Now Miss, calm down. You’ll only hurt your vocal cords more, which could lead to you losing your voice.”

“Answer my damn question and I wont lose my voice!”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can tell you that,” he rushed from the room, before I could ask again.

That only confirmed what I already knew, he had...it was too hard to think about. I had just been with him, not too long ago. He was talking to me, arguing with me, in that calm way of his, he couldn’t be. I was in denial, but I knew; I knew he had passed on. I refused to believe it, I refused to believe that I had lost him! He’s a fighter, this is all some sick cruel joke that he is playing on me. Any minute, he would walk through my door, look at me, and smile telling me that he set me up. He really couldn’t be dead!

When it finally hit me, I broke down. The agony, the anguish, the pain all flooding my body. I yanked at my hair, pulled out my ivs from my arm, and did anything I could to hurt me. As if the pain could get rid of what happened, as if it would wash it away. Maybe if I hurt myself, he would come back, I thought to myself; a manic grin plastered on my face. But I knew, he was never coming back and I would never see his smile again.