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Chapter 78

Two days later, Nick was back on the oncology floor, but to see Dr. Kingsbury, not Casey. He’d forced himself to get up and go to his rescheduled doctor’s appointment, even though he dreaded it. Sitting within the walls of the clinic always gave him a bad feeling, as if he were waiting to hear his death sentence. Maybe it was because he’d heard so much bad news within those walls before. Even though he’d been feeling perfectly fine, physically, he was always nervous before and during his appointments. What if his doctor was going to find something he hadn’t noticed?

Dr. Kingsbury made the usual small talk as she began her examination, asking him how he had been feeling and what he had been up to. He told her briefly about working in Los Angeles and avoided mentioning Claire, for that was a topic too painful to talk about with anyone but his closest friends. If she noticed Claire’s absence (for Claire had accompanied him to all of his appointments that year), Dr. Kingsbury did not ask about it.

“Hey, Dr. K?” he asked as he lay on his stomach on the cot, waiting while she and a nurse named Nehal set up for his bone marrow aspiration. “There’s not, like, an operation to help people with leukemia, is there?” Glancing up over his shoulder at her, he watched as she pursed her lips.

“Is this about your girlfriend?” she asked, concern filling her eyes. “She had leukemia, didn’t she? Did she have another relapse?”

“No, she’s fine,” replied Nick quickly. “Actually, it’s about another friend. He’s relapsed a couple times and had a bone marrow transplant a few years ago, but the cancer came back again, and he doesn’t the chemo’s helping anymore. There’s… there’s not really anything else you guys can do for him, is there?”

“Well…” Dr. Kingsbury hesitated, then sighed and explained, “Without knowing his specific case, I couldn’t really say, but in general, most leukemia patients who relapse after chemotherapy and a BMT do not survive. Once the standard treatments have failed, there just aren’t many options left. There are always holistic approaches, of course, but those usually only have success when combined with regular medical treatments.”

Nick nodded, feeling his heart sink. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered sadly.

“I’m sorry,” the physician offered with a sympathetic look. “I wish I had a better answer for you.”

“Nah, it’s not your fault,” Nick replied quietly.

She patted his shoulder. “Ready to get this thing over with?” she asked, referring to the bone marrow test.

He gave a grim laugh. “Let’s get it on.” He lowered his head, resting his chin on the padding at the head of the cot, and clutched the top of the cot as if he were hanging on for dear life, trying to steel himself for the pain and pressure that was about to come.

He wished he had Claire to hang on to instead; usually, she was there to sit with him and let him squeeze her hand through the worst of it. But today, he was alone, and he would just have to get used to it, because he would probably be stuck facing these alone from here on out.

“Everything looks good from what I can tell, Nick,” Dr. Kingsbury told him at the end of the appointment, as he lay curled on his left side, his right hip throbbing from where the syringe had penetrated it to suck out a sample of his marrow. “I’ll call you if anything abnormal shows up in the rest of your test results – you know the drill.”

Nick nodded and smiled in an effort to mask the anxiety those words “if anything abnormal shows up” invoked in him. He almost always left the clinic with the fear of getting such a phone call residing in the back of his mind. But so far, no phone call. He’d been in remission for a full year now, and God willing, he would never have to hear Dr. Kingsbury give him bad news again.

“I shouldn’t need to see you back for another six months this time, so you can schedule your next appointment for sometime in June,” added the doctor.

Nick did a double take. “Wait, really? Not till June?” he repeated, surprised. Next June seemed an eternity away from this side of Christmas. And as much as he hated coming to the clinic for tests, he couldn’t help but think that if his cancer did come back, God forbid, six months was a long time to let a tumor grow before it was caught. That thought sent chills down his spine.

Dr. Kingsbury offered him a reassuring smile. “If you have any problems or notice anything out of the ordinary before then, of course, you should call and come in to get it checked out. But as long as you continue to feel good… I’ll see you back here in six months.”

“Wow… okay,” Nick said, shrugging as he tried to assure himself that Dr. Kingsbury knew what she was talking about. “See you in June then. Thanks!”

He walked out of the clinic feeling almost proud, as if he’d accomplished something great. He had, in fact, reached a milestone, but he knew he couldn’t take it for granted. It was the longest time he had stayed in remission, but there was no guarantee it would last. Casey, he recalled gravely, had been in remission almost five years, the point when most people were considered cured, and had still relapsed.

There were never any guarantees.

As he crossed through the waiting room on his way out, slowed up by his throbbing hip, he couldn’t avoid a brief scan of the room. The sight of the people sitting there, many of them pale and gaunt, some with bloated moon faces or bald scalps from their medications, sobered him. A shudder ran through him, as he realized that that had once been him. God, he never wanted to go through it again.

And yet, as he reached for the knob on the door that led to his freedom, his escape from the clinic and the world of cancer, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Guilty because he was well (although he’d sure lost a lot in the process), and they weren’t. Just as Casey wasn’t. What made him any different from them, from Casey? Hadn’t they all fought hard, made sacrifices, lost part of their lives that they could never get back because of this disease? And yet, he was well, and they were ill, and some of them would die before ever achieving remission.

It wasn’t fair.

That was the thought on his mind as he walked away, refusing to look back.

He thought about stopping by to see Casey, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Not right then. It would be too hard, looking down at that poor little boy, who was so sick, and knowing that he had just been given a clean bill of health again (or close enough to it). Besides, his hip was killing him. I’ll go home and rest, he thought, and I’ll come back later today or tomorrow.

He made his way towards the elevators, but just before he reached them, he stopped dead in his tracks. There was already someone standing there, waiting. She was facing the bank of elevators and wearing a baseball cap, but he recognized her instantly. The shock of red hair poking through the back of her cap was not even the first giveaway. This was the woman he had touched and held and made love to; he could recognize Claire from anywhere.

His first, gut reaction was to turn and duck away before she saw him, but it was too late. His footsteps had given him away. He stood frozen in place as he watched her head slowly turn to glance over her shoulder. When she caught sight of him, she whirled around, and he saw the mix of surprise and guilt on her face. Then he noticed the tears.

“Nick!” she cried, her voice higher-pitched than normal. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Doctor’s appointment,” he replied vaguely, not taking his eyes off her face. Moving closer to her, he peered beneath the brim of her hat and realized that her face was indeed red and tearstained. “Why are you crying??” he asked, fear gnawing a hole in his stomach. He knew, before she answered, who she was crying over. And it wasn’t him.

“It’s Casey,” she said, and he could hear the emotion in her voice. She had been crying hard.

His stomach felt as if a lead weight had been dropped through the hole.

Claire looked around and then asked, “C-can we… can we go somewhere more private, and talk about this?”

“Yeah, of course,” Nick replied quickly, momentarily forgetting that he was mad at her, forgetting that he was upset and hurt and lost because she’d left him. Too concerned over Casey to think of anything else, he followed her back up the hall he had come down and into a small room marked Chapel.

“I was just in here,” Claire said in a hushed voice, as she held the door for him to go in. “It’s private.”

Nick nodded and walked into the chapel. It was a small, intimate room, with just a few rows of pews. Nick slid into the very back pew and waited for Claire to sit down beside him. She did, pulling off her Devil Rays cap and turning to face him.

“I ran into Casey’s mom,” she began shakily, in a low voice, “on my way to visit him, and she told me that… they’ve decided to stop Casey’s chemo. Altogether. I-it wasn’t really helping much, and it was only making him miserable. He asked to be taken off of it.”

Nick nodded slowly, not ready to tell her about the role he’d played in Casey’s request. He didn’t think he’d be able to speak anyway; his mouth had gone as dry as cotton.

“Do you know what this means though? There’s nothing else they can do for him now. There’s nothing else they’re going to do for him, other than keep his pain under control. Nick, Casey’s going to die.” Claire’s voice wavered on the last word, and he saw that her eyes had filled with fresh tears. The sight, combined with her words, made his own eyes start to burn.

“H-how long?” he asked hoarsely.

She shook her head sadly. “Probably not long.”

Her words hung in the air for a few moments; neither of them knew what to say. Nick hung his head, trying to keep his emotions check. A part of him felt like hitting the pew in front of him as hard as he could, splintering the wood (or the bones in his hand, more likely); the rest of him just wanted to cry. Claire was visibly upset, and he had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms and cry over her shoulder as she cried on his. He wanted to… but he didn’t touch her.

“Mrs. Brenner did say that maybe this way, without the chemo, he’ll at least be feeling a little better by Christmas. She’s hoping he’ll be able to spend it at home,” Claire said with difficulty. Nick could tell she was struggling just as hard as he was to hold herself together.

“Why wouldn’t he be able to go home?” he asked, realizing that talking helped keep the tears at bay, at least for now. “I mean, what does it really matter anymore? If they’re not going to do anything else for him here…”

“Well, it’s not that simple,” Claire murmured, shaking her head. “He’s going to need a lot of care before… well, you know… near the end. They’d need to hire a home nurse or something for him, and I’m sure Mrs. Brenner can’t afford that. He’ll have to be in the hospital, so their insurance will cover the costs.”

Nick swallowed hard. “That sucks. That’s not right. The kid should at least be able to spend his time at home.”

Claire nodded. “I agree. I just wish there was a way.”

Maybe there is a way… Nick thought, but for now, he didn’t reply. An uncomfortable silence fell, during which they both just sat, side by side on the pew, each lost in their own reflection. Nick stole a glance at Claire to find that her head was lowered, her baseball cap clutched firmly in her lap. She looked like she might be praying.

Eventually, she lifted her head and looked over at him. He returned the gaze, and then looked away, for it was too awkward. Neither of them knew what to say, these two fragments of a shattered love.

It was Nick who finally spoke first. “D-do you… do you wanna… maybe… go get a… a cup of coffee… or something?” he stammered hesitantly, shaking his head slightly as he said it, as if he already knew what her answer would be.

“You know I don’t like coffee,” she said, one corner of her mouth turning up in a wry smile.

He returned the gesture, feeling absurd because neither of them had a reason to smile. “Right,” he replied, “You just like the smell… not the taste. How about hot chocolate then? Tea? Milkshakes?”

“I can’t,” she said regrettably and then hurried to add, “I-it’s not cause of you or anything. I just have somewhere else to be.” He raised an eyebrow, and after some reluctance, she added, “I’m looking at apartments. I-I had the day off, so I made appointments to check a few places out.” Before he could react, she glanced down quickly, checking her watch – or pretending to at least. “In fact, the first one’s in like half an hour, so I really should go.” She got up quickly and started to squeeze out of the pew.

“Wait,” he said, reaching up to catch her arm. When she stopped and looked back at him, her cheeks flushed, he went on, “If you need anything or if you just wanna talk, call me, alright?”

She hesitated, biting her bottom lip the way she always did, and then nodded. “Thanks, Nick,” she replied softly. He grunted in acknowledgment. She started to leave again, and then she stopped. “Is everything okay, Nick?” she asked, turning back. “I-I mean… with you?”

Nick cocked his head at her, wondering how she could possibly expect everything to be “okay” with him when she had just broken off their engagement. Yeah, everything’s just fucking peachy, he thought, but he didn’t say it. She went on before he had the chance.

“I, uh… I thought you just had a checkup last weekend. Why… why were you in again today?”

“Oh. I didn’t make it to the first one… had to reschedule it.”

“Ah…” she murmured with a short nod, but she didn’t ask anything else. “But you’re okay then?”

“Healthwise, yeah,” he said dryly. “I’m great.” He knew she would be able to infer that by that, he meant he was not great in other ways. And sure enough, he saw the awkward look reappear on her face.

“I should go,” she whispered for the second time. “I… I’ll see ya.”

She darted out before he could stop her again – not that he was going to. Sooner or later, he had to let her go.

He just wished it was as easy to do emotionally.

Hell, sometimes he wished he didn’t have emotions; life would be so much less painful that way. But that was not the case, and it was with great pain that he sat alone in the chapel that day, his emotions getting the better of him as he finally allowed the tears to spill.

***