"I donīt want to," he muttered, turning painfully his back to her.
"There’s no question about what you want Mister," the nurse said with false cheerfulness. "Itīs doctor’s orders and you need to start walking so you donīt get a blood clot in your leg. Besides your stomach needs to get in check again, move those gases out of your system."
Nick groaned upon hearing these words. What was it with this hospital? They were either being bitches or timid and he couldnīt stand neither of them. Heīd longed for that beautiful brown haired nurse that used to take care of him as well as for those pretty cool nurses that helped him when he was throwing up like a dunken sailor.
"So what should it be? You want me to call Dr. Andersen or are you getting up voluntary?" The redhead stood there with her arm outstretched. Nick groaned. He wanted to tell her to go away, yet he knew that his attempts to get rid of her would be futile and he better make her satisfied.
Sighing. he sat up straighter in bed. "I donīt feel good today," he muttered when he planted his feet on the cold floor. It was true since him sitting up had made him pretty dizzy and he had to close his eyes or he was afraid that he would barf. That would have been a pretty sight, would it?
"Itīs from the chemo," the nurse stated dryly. "You’ll feel better once you get to move around some and we’re not taking a long walk so I think you should be able to manage."
"Well I donīt," he snarled, barely audible.
The nurse however heard it and she said harshly, "Mr. Carter it wonīt get you anywhere being this stubborn. The faster you get up the quicker you can leave the hospital. I take it that itīs what you want, am I right?"
He could do noting but nod.
"I thought so," the nurse snickered at her patient. "Ok take a hold of my waist and I’ll help you to stand..careful..not too fast or you might feel lightheaded."
"Might?" Nick glared at her. He felt already faint! Taking a hold of the woman he hoisted himself up, not wanting to let go of her waist.
"Thatīs it, lean on me," the nurse urged and for a moment Nick didnīt think she was quite the bitch anymore. Their pace was slow and he walked hunched like an crooked old man with a stick.
"Try to stand up a bit straighter," the nurse snapped when he was practically walking folded over.
"I canīt," Nick gasped, fighting his tears. The incision hurt like a mother and all he wanted was to go back to his bed since it felt like his legs wouldnīt carry him any further. "Can I go back?" he pleaded when it felt like he would pass out.
"Nonsense," the nurse said harshly, "You havenīt been up walking for nearly a week and you need to get your system working again. Iīm sure that a little pain is something that you can tolerate." She held him a bit firmer when he wobbled slightly. "Iīll bet that you had to preform at rougher circumstances than this in the past years."
Nick looked up. It was almost the first time that any of the hospital staff had mentioned something about him being a celebrity. Not that he wanted them to, it was just a bit unexpected coming from this woman. Was she a fan or what?
He decideded to lighten her up and play along, "Yeah I guess so. Performing can be a pain sometimes especially if youīre feeling sick."
"Well I could have performed too feeling a bit out of the weather if I earned millions of dollars too." Her tone was cold.
God where had they dug up this nag? At the cementary? So money was what was eating her. Nick sighed. If she only knew how much he would have wanted to be up and walking in the same way as he used to do instead of feeling like death warmed over all the time.
"Do we have to go outside?" he mumbled when she opened the door.
"Yes, you need to walk a few steps out in the corridor too." Her tone was sharp and she wasnīt inclined to any further conversation. "The more you walk the better you feel. I thought I made myself clear before," she snarled at him.
Bitch!
"Yeah Iīll guess," Nick mumbled, biting back a wave of foul words he had to prevent himself from cussing out. It was both from the treatment as well as from the pain in his stomach. He was resolutely led out to a chair a bit further down the corridor, like some kind of cripple. If he hadnīt held a hand down his back, his ass would have flashed open to the world through his gown. Not that it was the first time it had happened. One time heīd been stupid enough to jump into the ocean with his clothes on while going commando. The press as well as tons of fans had caught it on tape and he heard that they then made plenty of bucks selling it over on E-bay. The thought of having his ass plastered on someone’s widescreen in a foreign country didnīt sound too tempting, at least not the way he felt and looked right now.
"Can I at least get a blanket or something to cover my..my butt," Nick stuttered, feeling pretty embarrassed over having this kind of talk with a total stranger. Heīd begged off to get out of these clothes and that he got to wear his own sweatpants but lately heīd been pretty sick from the chemo and at those times he was greatful that he didnīt wear his own clothing. Enough said.
This time the nurse showed a genuine smile, "Well I donīt think youīre showing something that the world hasnīt seen before," she quipped. He groaned he thought to himself, *man was she a witch.* "Hold on,īlean against the wall for support and Iīll get you a another gown." To this surprise the nurse quickly went in and got another hospital gown which she wrapped around his shoulders. He knew that he should have been grateful but this made him look even nerdier than before.
"Ok come on then..just a few steps and you can sit down at the chair over there," she pointed at a hard wooden chair a bit further down.
He did as she said and soon when heīd reached his target he sank down on the waiting object. Man, it felt good. He was totally exhausted from the short walk and could have given anything to get back to bed again. Once he sat down the nurse adjusted his chemo and feeding lines like sheīd done it thousands of times before. Heīd been pushing the equipment beside him all along and it most have looked so stupid that he had to laugh thinking about it all. Heīd bet that he looked like a freaking machine the way all the stuff and cords were attached to him. Like a fucking robot.
"Whatīs so funny?" the nurse asked, looking up at him.
"Nothing," Nick smiled. "I was just thinking how stupid I look in all of this." With his hand he motioned to the lines.
"Oh that, well you need to have this so you can function properly." Nick groaned. She was way too clinical. Even if he didnīt sit there more than five minutes, tops, he was starting to get more and more uncomfortable. There was lots of traffic, almost like Grand Central Station. Orderlies, nurses and doctors as well as patients and relatives to patients were crossing the corridor on and off.
It felt like they were all staring at him the former popsinger that was nothing but a skinny, baldheaded guy with cancer. Instantly his hand reached to touch his hair, wincing when he made contact with bare skin. This last chemo session had been death for the last strands he had off his thick blonde hair and now there was very little left. To his despair he found this out one morning when the pillow was full of clumps of blonde hair. Yet heīd crossed the path of caring. What did it matter to him? He looked like a fucking freak anyway.
"Can we please go back now. Iīm tired," Nick mumbled when he thought that the people had stared at him long enough. Deep down he knew that they hadnīt even gave him a second look, yet he felt so exposed to the world. Like everybody knew who he was and what he was in for.
The news was all out and he knew that everybody knew that he was staying at St. :Mary’s Hospital and Brian had mentioned that lots of reporters had wanted to have an exclusive interview with them. A one on one talk. His management had thought it was a great idea and wanted them to air live from his hospital bed, but the guys were the ones to turn it all down, saying that the situation was not suitable right now. And they were damned right. The way he was feeling he would probably barf on the camera and that would not do much for his reputation. But Nick also knew that as soon as he recooperated a bit, the reporters as well as his management would hunt him like vulchers, trying to make entertainment out of it all.
How pathetic! Just like his life.
"Let me give you some good advice young man," the redhaired nurse said when heīd sulked for a while. "You need to start thinking positive. Spending time in bed will do nothing for you and if youīre going to beat this you will have to get out with the people again. Not sitting inside like some kind of hermit, refusing to see anyone.
'Well fuck you,' Nick wanted to say, 'Iīm not hiding. Iīm sick'. Instead he shrugged his shoulders. He stood up dramatically, even if his legs felt like overcooked spaghetti. "Nope. I said I was tired and I want to go back to bed again. My head and stomach hurts."
The nurse sighed heavily, about to open her mouth to object when he cut her short, "So are you going to stand there and watch when I fall or give me a hand?" It felt good to be in charge for once, especially since he knew that she couldnīt refuse him help. Even if she wanted to.
She snorted with disgust. Her attempts to get her patient to change his mind had failed miserably. To her he was nothing but another spoiled celebrity that thought they could barge in and run the hospital. Sheīd even heard that his mother had been throwing a tantrum the way her son was treated and sheīd decided to give him a lesson. He earned more in a year than she would ever do in her lifetime, and even if she felt upset looking at the "snotty" brat she couldnīt help to feel sorry for him. Maybe sheīd been a bit too harsh. The young man was nothing as she had expected him to be and she felt even a tad worried seeing his ghostly white complexion. The kid looked positively ill.
"Ok lets go back then," she said reaching out to grab his waist that was nothing but skin and bone. With a skilled hand, she guided him back to his room and into the bed. He looked absolutely exhausted and for a brief moment she wished she hadnīt been so hard on him since he was acting like he was close to fainting. Watching him laying there in the hospital bed she couldnīt help but feel a motherly feeling wash all over her. There was something fragile about the young patient, yet there was something strong and stubborn too. Just when she was about to leave the room to let him rest he opened his mouth whispering a hoarse "Thanks." Then he closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.
The nurse who had decided that she would teach the "popstar" a lesson felt bad. Never had she thought he was so human.
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Groaning, Nick rolled onto his side. He was sentenced once more to stay in bed since he happened to faint on his way to the bathroom last night. Not that he wished to repeat the performance of walking with that redheaded bitch out to the corridor. No way. It was just that he was so bored out of his mind and sick and tired of laying in the hospital feeling like crap. And that description was not an understatement.
There were some undescriptive chills wracking his body and he knew he was running a fever by the way the nurses kept rushing back and forth, taking all kinds of tests. His stomach still hurt and every move felt like stinging pain shooting through his abdomen and back. The cramps were still there and he was fed up with the nausea that seemed to linger in the back of his throat all the time, choking him until he couldnīt take it anymore.
He was also so fed up with the nutrition shit he got from the IV line and the formula both looked and probably tasted like a day old breastmilk. Not that he ever tasted it in his adult life, it was more likely what he imagined it would taste like. Sickly sweet. It made him want to throw up. Even when the nausea ripped his body apart he still wanted something firm to chew on. Something that didnīt make his tastebuds go into total shock. What wouldnīt he do for a meal from McDonald’s? There were times when he found himself longing to sink his teeth into a juicy BigMac topped with lots of dressing and a box of french fries. He would end the meal with a large cup of butterscotch fudge with chocoalate topping and caramel crisps. Both Howie and Kevin wrinkled their nose in disgust when he used to devour this kind of meal on the road, but he didnīt care. It was as close to heaven as any man could get.
Today however he knew that it was noting but a dream. His system would protest wildly if he put anything besides ice chips into his mouth, not even Ensure would do this time.
Swallowing hard he found himself fighting the gag reflexes for the umpteenth time that morning and he prayed silently that it wouldnīt send him off to another round beside the basin. Puking had always been one of the worst things he ever did since it made him feel both small and out of control. Lately it seemed like it was all he was doing and his body did everything to rejct the toxin that ran in his veins. Chemotheraphy was sheer hell and he didnīt wish this kind of treatment upon his worst enemy. If he didnīt know better he would have ripped the line out, refusing to take another session. To him it was only prolonging the invetable; Death!
Yet he had to fight and to win over this disease that took thousands of human life each year as well as saving lots more. He knew he had a fifty-fifty chance of beating it and he had all intentions of winning even if victory seemed further away with each day that passed.
It was not one of his best days, but then when was it ever? He was in a bad form physically but also mentally. The only good part was that heīd been lucky enough to get to sleep through the night without any incidents disturbing him. But what good did that do since the moment he opened his eyes he was back to feeling sick again.
Nick wasnīt known for being a patient man, although he had to sit through endless interviews, recording sessions as well as waiting in airports. It had all tested his patience, many many times. Being an active man when feeling well, he hated laying cooped up in bed, watching as the nurses draw more blood from him. Heck if they kept up this testing he would have been dry as a desert, sucked out like Count Dracula’s victim. When heīd complained to the guys about having nothing to do they had stucked him with a remote control in his hand as well as the latest versions of games to his Playstation2. After playing a b'ball game on the tv as well as zapping through channels heīd found out that he was too tired to do anything but stare. There wasnīt a plot anymore that he had the strength to follow and usually he ended up fast asleep while watching a movie.
Today was the first day when he feared that none of the guys or his dad would show up. He knew that his dad was driving his mother and siblings over to the airport and the guys were in the recording booth working on the new album. After talking to AJ about what to do with his own appearance on the CD he found out that they were hurrying the recording along. The older man claimed that it was due to Brian’s baby coming but Nick knew better...He also wanted to spare them his pain since their pale features told him that his sickness was starting to get to them. Brian, who should have been at home with his wife had spent lots of time with him as well as the rest of the guys.
The guys had tried their best to cheer Nick up, although it hadnīt worked very well since he was still having dark and gloomy thoughts. This had his friends in for a loop since usually Nick was nothing but jokes and laughter. The sickness had changed him in so many ways and ironically in a few months he had matured more than he had in his life time.
But he wasnīt the only one that was marked with the disease. The sickness was slowly ripping them all apart, making them suffer; each in their own way.
Wrapping the blanket closer to his body he tried to stifle the chills that had accompanied him ever since that morning. Moving slowly in bed a new set of pain shot through his abdomen, making him roll into a ball. "Shit!" he cussed out loud as he tried to get his bearings. Wasnīt the pain suppose to lessen instead of increase after the surgery? Pressing a hand on his side, he hoped that the pressure would make the pain go away. Deep inside he knew that it made no difference and all he could do was to wait it all out.
Slowly he started to feel better again and as he turned on his head his eyes fell on the stacks of get well cards that were laying on the bedstand. This was just from people he knew but Brian had told him that there were bags of get well cards as well as presents arriving each day. Thinking that the fans were doing this for him made his eyes water. Never in his life had he imagined this kind of support.
Reaching out his hand he picked up a beige paper card, not looking much at the outside but meaning lots in the inside. The card was from Aaron and inside was a charocal drawing of him and Aaron together and they were standing inside the family boat. The drawing was very well done and fortunately his little brother had inherited the same talent as Nick carried. The drawing was a sketch from an old photo that Nick knew he kept in a drawer. It meant alot to him. On the picture they were 15 and 8 years old, looking very untroubled. Memories of when he was with his friends at the family boat flashed up infront of his eyes and he wished with all his heart that he would be able to re-live such a time again.
The drawing was very nice but it was what his little brother had scribbled down in the corner of the picture that meant more to him. "Iīll always be there for you in my heart. No matter what happens you can count on me. I love you bro. 4-ever."The letter was signed AC.
The words hit him pretty hard since he knew how devistated Aaron had been about his disease. At first Nick had felt hurt when his little brother had made up several excuses to come and visit him, but when he had seen the pained expression he knew that the sickness hurt him more than he could ever express. Despite being the youngest, Aaron had never been on the soft side so it had surprised him when heīd seen the reactions of tears his brother had shown. Nick had never told anyone this but secretively he admired his little brother. Aaron was a smart kid, much smarter than he was given credit for and there were times when people had wondered who was the oldest of the two Carter brothers. Aaron had a better way of coping with fame and he seemed to be the one that was buildt the toughest.
Therefore it had scared him dearly when he had seen the tears his little brother had shed and how broken he had been. His dad had told him that Aaron had to go back but Nick knew better. It was all getting to him and he had to get out or it would tear him apart. His relationship with his mother was another business. He couldnīt for his life understand why she was being so mean to him. After all it wasnīt his fault that he got sick and she had no business thinking that he was a failure.
Not this time.
Sheīd tried to control his life again and even if it hurt him he had to make her leave. There was no way that he was going to spend his last months in LA, far away from the people and the scenery that he loved and which he felt was his home. Even if this meant that he had to sacrifice his relationship with his mother, for all eternity.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a soft voice calling out for him. "Nick?" Turning to his side he was met with Dr. Andersen’s warm eyes. "Hi Nick, how are you doing today?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, very uncharacteristic for the doctor that he had gotten to know during the past months.
"Did hell freeze over or what?"
She didnīt catch his lame attempt of a joke."Huh?"
"I mean you didnīt call me Nickolas or anything."
"Oh okay," she smiled paley at him before sitting down next to his bed. Something in her posture told him that there would be some bad news. Not wanting to stall any longer he sighed.
"So spill it."
"What?" The older woman looked at her patient with a frown.
"Come on. Tell me the bad news, Iīll can take it! Just tell me what you have on your mind."
"What makes you think that I have bad news?” she asked with surprise, looking straight into his blue eyes.
"Because people ususally have that when they have been formal and suddenly start to call me Nick."
"Oh." She went silent for a couple of moments.
"Iīm right aren’t I?" There were triumph as well as sadness in his tone.
"Eh..well I need you to do some more tests."
"More tests? Nooo waaayyyyy," Nick more or less shouted. Hell this was turning out to be a really sucky day.
The doctor placed a hand on his arm, "Calm down Nick. Weīve just want to do a Bone Marrow test to see how the fluid is and see that the cancer havenīt spread."
"What?" It was his turn to stare at her. "I ainīt doing that test! It will hurt like a bitch." Stubbornly he sat up in bed, a bit too fast for his comfort and for a couple of seconds there were dots dancing around in front of his eyes.
"Take it easy," she urged him softly. "Nick I know that you donīt like the tests but we have to see your status and if the Hodgkins is spreading in your lymph system."
Nick went suddenly silent. Looking up at her, not fighting anymore he said with defeat in his eyes, "Itīs spreading isnīt it?"
"No," she shook her head, "Iīm not saying that it is, but we have to make the tests to be on the sure side." Her smiled was aimed to be comforting but didnīt serve like that.
Not being satisfied with her answer he continued, "Cut the crap. Donīt bullshit me. You are suspecting something, right?"
She flinched as his words hit her like a bullet and not wanting to lie to her young patient she said with a sigh, "Well we had found that tumor near your stomach when we did the liver surgery and now we want to be sure that there are no more hidden lumps that we are not aware of. We are also a bit concerned that youīre not responding to the chemotheraphy like we thought you would..at least not before we increased the doseage" Dr. Andersen was known for being both truthful and fair.
The words spelled out felt like a blown into his midsection. He was right. They were suspecting something bad and since he had read up about Hodgkins Lymphoma over the net as well as in books, yes he could read no matter what people said, he knew that they were afraid that his cancer had reached staged 3. And if that was the case he had just one more stage to go. One more stage closer to the end!
