The Lucy Chronicles

It had been a about three weeks since I had stopped chemo therapy, and I had stopped throwing up everything I tried to eat. I even had a soft mop of fuzz resembling hair on my head. Things were good. So good, in fact, that my mother was returning to work. She had a conference today, and with my improving condition, she found it alright to drop my siblings and I off at Uncle Dean’s for the day. I was tired, so Uncle Dean just let me nap in the guest room while the kids, Travis, Chandler, Dylan, Noah, and Oliver stayed downstairs. Mother had left Mollie, Liam, and Chloe with Uncle Sam, whose house was not as loud or as busy as Uncle Mumbles’, and she said she felt bad unloading that many kids on Uncle Dean.

He didn’t seem to mind. From the sounds of things, they were all rather enjoying themselves, and there I was, once again, too tired to go downstairs and join in. I was particularly tired today, more so than usual. Other than that, nothing seemed weird. Only in retrospect did it occur to me that I barely peed at all that day. I wasn’t hungry, which was a common side-effect of chemo. My unwillingness to eat was nothing new to anybody. Thankfully, Uncle Dean just left me alone. He told me to just yell if I needed anything. Other than that, I had the room to myself.

I took a nap. Don’t really know how long I was out for. I don’t really remember. I just know that I woke up not knowing where I was, immediately nervous and restless. I wanted to move, wanted to roll over or stand up, something, but I couldn’t. There was a sharp pain on both sides of my lower back, and when I shifted, it felt like I was being stabbed. I let out a muffled cry and ultimately decided to stay there, on my stomach, cheek pressed onto the comforter, but I couldn’t get a grip on my fear. My heart was beating wildly in my chest, and I felt the nausea come on. Most of this seemed like normal chemo side-effects, save for the anxiety and the back pain, but I was horrified, terrified, even when I realized that I was still in Uncle Dean’s house.

My mouth was dry, so dry that it stung. I wanted to call somebody, anybody, even just for a glass of water, but I couldn’t properly call for anything with my face stuck in the mattress, so I mustered all my strength and tried to push myself up. The moment I raised my head I was overwhelmed with a dizzy feeling, and the pain in my back shot up again. I cried out, just a little louder before I collapsed back on the bed, crying. Suddenly, my mouth wasn’t so dry anymore. I tasted something metallic, something like iron. My mouth hung open a bit as I struggled to breath, chest heaving. What I thought was drool seeped out of my mouth, but when I saw it, I noticed it was thick and red.

I wanted to yell, wanted to scream, but there weren’t words. Shaking, I tried to pull myself from the bed, tried to stand, but my body tipped and went crashing to the ground. Pain shot from my back when I thudded against the carpet, and I yelped out in pain. I heard footsteps shuffling up the stairs. I wanted to get up, but I couldn’t feel my hands, couldn’t feel my feet. I felt something running out of my nose, warm, thick and sticky. It wasn’t until it dripped onto the carpet that I knew my nose was bleeding. Fighting with everything I had, I tried to crawl for the door, but my body just rolled onto my stomach, leaving me face down on the carpet. The door creaked open, and my vision was blurred, but I could make out my older brothers face fixed in shock. “L-Lucy,” he stammered, barely taking a moment before he yelled, “Uncle Dean!”

He kept shouting for Uncle Dean, even when he ran out of my sight. Soon after, heavier footsteps rushed up the stairs, and when I blinked, Uncle Dean was kneeling beside me. “Lucy,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I was having double-vision, thought I saw two of him. My stomach was churning. “Hey, Lucy,” he repeated. His voice echoed in my ears. Then I threw up a wretched mixture of empty stomach bile and blood, and things felt urgent. “Alright, Lucy. Time to go,” he grunted as he picked me up off the floor and grabbed a nearby waste can.

When he turned, Trav and Chandler were standing in the doorway, clearly shocked. I wanted to tell them it was okay, that I was fine, because I didn’t want them to worry. But all that came out of my mouth was more blood and vomit. “Boys, move,” Dean commanded, still calm and collected, even with me heaving and retching all over his carpet. Chandler ran immediately. It was Travis he need to shove out of the way. There was no hesitation when he laid me down in the backseat of his car, stomach down. He sat the trash can down on the floor, and he tilted my head to hang off the seat and directly over the bucket. I don’t where he got a rag from, I don’t remember him grabbing it, but he wiped my face off. “Hang tight, Lucy,” he told me. “I’m going to to call your mum, and everything’s going to be fine.”

He loosely strapped me in with a seatbelt. “Kay,” I muttered before more blood and vomit spilled out of my mouth and into the trash can. He closed the car door and got in the front seat, immediately using the console to call my mother. I heard it ringing through the car speakers, then a click.

“Muscles? What’s up?” my mother’s voice rang out through the car.

“Blondie,” Uncle Dean addressed her, staying calm. “Don’t panic, but I’m taking Lucy to the hospital—“

I think we all knew that wouldn’t work.

“What?” my mother asked in immediate panic. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know, Blondie,” he replied in a smooth, even tone. “You might want to tone down the crazy. Your daughter can hear you.”

There was a pause. “Lucy, baby, can you hear me?” she asked.

“Hi, Mummy,” I croaked.

“Everything’s going to be alright, sweetie,” she assured me. “I promise.”

“Okay, Blondie, just meet us there, okay?” Uncle Dean asked. “I’ll see you soon.” He clicked the phone off, picked another number, and the car speakers rang again. There was a click and a few seconds of silence before Uncle Dean just spoke anyway. “Hey, Avery, you there?” he asked. More silence.

“Yeah,” Uncle Mumbles answered gruffly.

“Okay, great. Hate to interrupt whatever you were doing, but you need to get down to the hospital,” Dean told him. More silence. “It’s Lucy.”

There was no pause when he grumbled, “Got it.” Then, he hung up.

I don’t know how much time passed, but it all blurred together. Uncle Dean was soon lifting me out of the car and rushing me into the emergency room. Even though things quickly erupted into chaos, I didn’t feel panicked. Uncle Dean was always good at that. They put me on a gurney, and shortly after I passed out.

When I woke up, my vision was still blurred. An IV was hooked into my central line, pumping me full of fluids. Uncle Mumbles was sitting patiently by the window near my bed. Uncle Dean was standing with my mother and father, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes on the floor.

“What does this mean?” my mother asked in a tearful sounding voice. “What’s the treatment for this?”

“Well, we believe that it would be in her best interest too replace her kidneys entirely,” the doctor said. His voice was deep and firm.

Replace my kidneys? I glanced to Uncle Mumbles apologetically, but I didn’t say anything. He knew. He just shook his head. That was his way of telling me to shut up, even though neither of us were talking.

My father cleared his throat. “In her best interest?” he asked. “It seems drastic to replace them. Isn’t there anything else we can do first?”

“We’ve already done chemo,” the doctor explained. “It’s the not the cancer that’s caused this. It hasn’t spread. In fact, there’s no cancer present. Kidney damage is actually a common side-effect of chemotherapy and bone marrow transplants.”

Uncle Dean actually laughed, but not like he thought it was funny. “So… what you’re saying is that your treatments have actually caused more problems?”

“But they’ve rid her of cancer,” the doctor told him.

“Yeah, that’s real productive,” Uncle Dean muttered.

Uncle Mumbles and I exchanged a brief glance, and I sighed, just as the doctor said, “She’s going to need a kidney transplant. It’s the only way.”