Chapter 148
A few minutes later, a woman in a white coat came into the
room. Nick hardly looked up, expecting
it to be Dr. Keal or one of the other ER physicians who had worked on him
earlier. He did a double take when he
realized that it was Dr. Kingsbury.
“Hey, Dr. K,” he said, offering a nervous, forced smile.
“Hi, Nick… guys,” the doctor replied, flashing Nick a tight,
thin-lipped smile, nodding to the others.
Studying the doctor, Nick was surprised to find that she did not look as
pulled together as she usually did. Her
face was bare and makeup-less, her graying blonde hair flattened. Granted, it was past two a.m., but he had to
wonder, had she even been on call that night?
Or had she come from home, just because of him?
He didn’t ask. She didn’t
give him a chance.
“Nick, we need to talk,” she said, sitting down on stool and
scooting closer to Nick’s bed. “Are you
all right with the guys being in here, or would you like privacy?”
His heart began to hammer rapidly at the seriousness in her
voice. No “good to see you, Nick,” no “I
saw you on TV, Nick,” not even a joke about how he’d ruined a good night’s
sleep for her. Just “we need to talk.” Not a good sign.
He glanced around quickly at the others; the expressions on their
faces were just as serious. It was going
to be bad news, and they knew it just as well as he.
A lump rose in his throat.
“They can stay,” he whispered, unable to speak any louder. He didn’t want to be alone for this.
Dr. Kingsbury nodded.
“Okay,” she said. “Well, let’s
not beat around the bush here. Nick,
there’s a tumor in your lung.”
There was no sharp intake of breath, no expressions of shock. They all just sat there, stock still and
silent, waiting for her to continue, waiting for their immediate questions to
be answered before they had to voice them aloud.
“It was hard to make out on the x-ray, but the CT scans that came
out show a mass about four centimeters in diameter in the upper lobe of your
left lung.”
Kevin was the first to speak.
“And it’s… it’s malignant, I assume?”
“Without a biopsy, we don’t know that for sure, but chances are it
is. There are always other remote
possibilities, but most likely it is a metastasis of Ewing’s Sarcoma. That means that the cancer has spread to your
lung, Nick.”
Nick shook his head slowly.
“But… how?” he asked quietly. It
wasn’t that he didn’t believe her; she had just confirmed the worst case
scenario he’d thought of earlier, a relapse of his cancer. But he didn’t understand. How could it have gone all the way to his
lungs, after his leg, the spot where the cancer had originated, had been
amputated eight months ago?
“The lungs are one of the first places cancer like this tends to
spread. All it takes is a few cells to
get into the blood stream, and they are then carried to the lungs, where the
blood is re-oxygenated. If they get
dropped off in a lung, they can set up shop there and start to reproduce,
eventually forming a tumor. If this is
indeed a metastasis, it means the cancer spread before the amputation of your
leg and has been growing slowly ever since.”
“Wait, so you’re saying he’s had this tumor since, what,
April? March? How come it wasn’t caught before now?” AJ, who had stayed very quiet up until this
moment, had spoken out, glaring accusingly at Dr. Kingsbury.
“The last time Nick had a chest x-ray done, back in July, it was
too small to be detectable.”
“Wait – July? What about at
his last check-up?” Kevin asked.
Shut up, Kev, Nick
pleaded silently, looking guiltily up at Dr. Kingsbury. She met his eyes, but her gaze was not
judgmental. “Nick?” she said
calmly. “Would you like to answer that
one?”
Nick scowled. “I didn’t
go,” he muttered, shoulders slumping.
“What??”
“My October appointment – I didn’t go,” he repeated, ashamed. “It was the day Aaron came to visit, so I
cancelled it. I was planning on
rescheduling it, but… I dunno, I just kinda… forgot.” The excuse sounded so lame, even to him. How could he have been so stupid? If the tumor had been found then, maybe it
could have been taken care of before it got this bad.
“Oh, Nick,” Kevin sighed, the disappointment obvious in his voice.
He started to say something else, but Dr. Kingsbury quickly went
ahead. “It doesn’t matter why it wasn’t
caught earlier. It’s been found now, and
we need to discuss your options.”
Thank you, Nick
thought silently, flashing his doctor a quick smile of gratitude. “What are the options?” he asked, glad there
were some.
“Based on what I know about the tumor right now, I would put it at
a Stage 2B. That’s out of four stages,
Stage 4 being inoperable and, in most cases, terminal.” Terminal. Nick shuddered at the word. “Stage 2B means the tumor is fairly small,
but located deep in the tissue and high grade, which means it is growing
quickly. Because of the relatively small
size, however, Stage 2B tumors are usually operable.”
Operable. He shuddered at that word too. “You mean surgery?” he asked timidly. “You can operate and take it out?” God, he didn’t want more surgery. He really didn’t. But he supposed it was a good thing that the
option was there.
“Possibly. In your case,
it’s a bit more complicated. Your tumor
is in a difficult position – it’s located very near your heart. Operating there is risky.”
Shit… this was not good. “Well…
what if you don’t operate? What are the
options then?” he asked, his voice cracking.
“More chemo. Possibly
radiation. However, based on the fact
that radiation didn’t work last time, and you’ve already had so much chemo, I
can’t promise you that either of those treatments would do much good.”
He shook his head. “I don’t
want more chemo… especially if you’re not even sure it’ll work. What do you think is the best option?”
The doctor pursed her lips.
“Honestly… if the surgery were successful, that would be your best
chance. But with such a great risk, I
can’t urge you to choose that option.
That’s something you need to decide yourself.”
“Well, when do I have to decide?”
“Not now if you don’t want to.
Take some time to think about it.
But I will tell you, Nick, the sooner, the better. The larger the tumor gets, the harder it will
be to take all of it out. And it’s
already affecting your breathing. Your
sats, which show how well you’re breathing, are low, and if they keep getting
lower, you’ll have to have a tube put down your throat to help you
breathe. If that happens, you will be
sedated and unable to speak.”
So basically, this was a decision he needed to make soon, while he
still could. He raised his eyes, looking
to the guys for help. But no one said a
word. He sighed. He could tell this truly was something he
needed to decide himself. He weighed
the options carefully. If he had the
surgery, it was possible that they could take out the tumor, and he would be
rid of cancer once again, without having to mess with more chemo or radiation
or any of that. But, it was also
possible that the surgery could go wrong, and he could die. But if he didn’t go for the surgery, he could
die anyway. If chemo and radiation
failed, he was screwed.
It was a life or death decision, and either way could result in
his death. That was not a comforting
thought.
“Well,” Dr. Kingsbury said, rising from her stool, “I’ll let you
have some time alone to think. I’ll be
back to check on you later, all right?”
He nodded vaguely, still deep in thought. Dr. Kingsbury started for the door, and he
heard AJ mutter, “I’m gonna try Claire’s cell again.”
Nick’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of her name. Claire. He wished she were here with him now. Maybe she could help him decide what to
do. She’d had to make difficult
decisions like this before.
In his mind, he could hear her voice. “…It’s
like somebody with their hands behind their back going, ‘Pick a hand.’ And one hand has the cure in it… and the
other one has… well, death. What if…
what if I pick the wrong hand?”
She’d picked the right hand.
She’d taken the risk and beaten the odds. He had a feeling if she were him, she would
go for the surgery.
“Cut it out.”
Out of nowhere, the words from his dreams sprang to mind. Her words.
“Cut it out.” He murmured
them out loud, testing them. The guys
looked up.
“Cut what out?” Brian asked in confusion.
Nick swallowed hard. “I
know what I wanna do,” he said thickly.
“I wanna go for the surgery.”
Kevin blanched. “Are you
sure, Nick?” he asked, studying Nick carefully.
“You’ve barely thought about it.
It’s a big decision.”
“I know, but… it just… it feels right.” That sounded lame, but how could he explain
it? How was he supposed to tell them
because of a couple of crazy dreams he’d had, he felt that this was the
decision he needed to make?
It was Brian who nodded first, showing his support. Nick figured that out of them all, Brian
would understand the best. Brian had
faith… faith in the medical system and faith that went far beyond that. “Do you want me to go find your doctor?” he
asked Nick.
Nick nodded. “Yeah. Go get her and tell her I want her to cut it
out. Cut the mother-fucker out of me.”
Brian smirked; AJ actually chuckled, lightening the mood in the
room just a hair.
“I’ll be back,” said Brian, leaving to track down Dr. Kingsbury.
“I’ll be back too,” AJ announced, holding up his cell phone. “Gonna try Claire again. You still want her to come, don’t you, Nick?”
“Yeah,” Nick answered. More
than anything, he wanted her to come.
She had to come. There was no way in hell he was going to let
them put him under for some risky surgery without talking to her first. Without telling her how he felt. She had to know, and if he didn’t tell her
soon, he knew he might never get another chance.
When AJ had left the room, Kevin reached out and patted Nick’s arm
gently. “You should try to get some
sleep,” he said, his voice soothing. “If
they’re gonna want to do this surgery tomorrow or something, you’re gonna need
your rest.”
Nick nodded, knowing Kevin was probably right. He was exhausted. But at the same time, he didn’t want to
sleep. He was almost afraid. Afraid of slipping away and missing precious
moments with the people he loved. Or, if
he was being perfectly honest with himself… afraid of not waking up.
***
At some point, he must have let himself drift off, for the next
thing he knew, he was waking up to find the room darkened and the guys
gone. For a moment, he thought he was
all alone. A feather light touch on the
back of his hand told him otherwise. He
gasped and startled, his head whipping around on his pillow to find a lone
figure sitting in a chair beside his bed.
Breathing hard, he stifled back a cough and blinked. Was it really her?
“Hey, you,” she said softly.
“I was wondering when you were gonna wake up. I was about ready to fall asleep myself.”
“Claire,” he rasped, coughing.
“Wh-when did you…?” He couldn’t
even get the rest of his sentence out for all the coughs that racked his body.
“Nick? Here, sit up.” He could hear the worry in her voice as she
slid her arm under his back and helped him sit up. He swayed for a moment, light-headed and
dizzy, and then hunched over, coughing uncontrollably into his hand.
“Oh shit,” he gagged as he pulled back his hand and felt the warm
wetness there. “Claire-“
She turned on a small light over his bed, brightening the dim
space around them, and reached for something.
“Here, use this,” she said, thrusting an emesis basin into his
hand. He coughed into it while she
patted his back. “Should I get someone?”
she asked, but he quickly shook his head.
“No,” he coughed, “it’ll pass.”
Finally, it did. Chest
heaving, he fell back against his pillows, inhaling the oxygen that flowed into
his nostrils as deeply as he could, struggling to catch his breath. She waited, taking his hand in hers and
gently rubbing the back of it, until finally, his breathing slowed, and his
body relaxed. He looked over at her,
mortified that she had been there to witness such a fit. “Thanks,” he whispered weakly.
“No problem,” she replied, her voice hardly audible. She watched him for a moment and then smiled
a little. “I can’t believe you. I go out of town for five days, and you pull
this! You better not have just been
trying to get me to come home, mister.”
He let out a soft chuckle, wincing at the pain it caused. “Well, it worked, didn’t it? You’re here.”
“That’s right.” She
squeezed his large hand in between her two small ones. “I’m here.”
He smiled up at her. There
was so much he wanted to say to her, but… it just didn’t feel right. Not yet.
“So AJ finally got a hold of you?”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding solemnly. “I was just getting off the plane.”
“It’s late,” he said softly.
“How long were you stuck at that airport?”
She snorted. “Way too
long.” Studying her, he saw how haggard
and exhausted she looked. Her hair was
flat and limp, yet stuck out in odd places.
Her eyes were dull and glassy, and her cheeks were pale. She looked terrible.
No, to him, she looked beautiful.
The relief of finally seeing her, of finally having her by his side,
made her beautiful.
“I take it they filled you in on what’s going on?” he asked her
flatly.
She nodded. “Yeah,” she
whispered and looked away. Watching her
profile, he saw her throat move as she swallowed hard and could have sworn he
heard her sniffle.
“Claire?” Reaching up, he
brushed his fingers against her cheek, and she turned her head to face
him. Her eyes were not just glassy now;
they were shiny. Shiny with… dear God,
were those tears? “Claire…” he murmured her
name, moving his fingers up to wipe away the moisture that had leaked from her
bright eyes. “Come on now, don’t do
that…”
She sniffed loudly and shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said tremulously. “God, Nick… I’m so sorry. I just…”
She shook her head again, her chin quivering, shoulders trembling.
He couldn’t do this. He
couldn’t lie there and watch her lose it like that. It wasn’t like her to fall apart like that;
Claire only cried if things were really bad.
A reality of it made frightened tears spring into his own eyes.
It was really bad.
“I’m scared,” he admitted.
She tightened her grip on his hand and looked down at him, tears
streaming from her eyes. “I’m scared
too.”
He took a shuddering breath and swallowed back the lump that had
risen in this throat. “Do you… do you
think this is the right thing to do?
The… the s-surgery I mean?”
She nodded slowly. “You
gotta go for it, right? I mean, if this
is your best chance… you gotta take it.”
“I thought you’d say that,” he said huskily, smiling. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” she whispered.
He could have stayed like that all night, looking up at her face,
clutching her hand, not speaking, just looking… touching… holding…
But he couldn’t. Not
really. He didn’t know how much time he
would have alone with her, but he knew he had to make the most of it. Who knew when or if he’d have another chance.
“Claire,” he began softly, “there’s a lot I need to tell you. I know it’s not the best time… I know it’s
not the right place… but I just have to say it.” He paused, mulling over his words
carefully. He’d never been good at
saying the right thing; how was he supposed to word this? He tried to come up with something suave and
charming to say, but his brain felt like mush.
Nothing seemed right. She was
staring at him, perplexed, waiting for him to keep talking, and finally, he knew
he would just have to say the words.
Plain and simple.
“Claire,” he said again, and he twisted his hand around in hers so
that their fingers intertwined. “I… I
love you.”
For a moment, time stood still, and he watched her reaction
carefully, waiting…
Her lower lip quivered, and she hesitated for just a moment, her
eyes overflowing with tears. And then,
she said it. “I love you too.”
A tear fell from her chin and landed with a splat upon his hand,
which was still wound tightly around hers.
He didn’t flinch, his eyes never leaving her tear-stained face. For just a moment, everything seemed all
right. It was going to be okay, now that
she was here with him. He loved
her. He’d finally admitted it. And she loved him back. And right then, that was all that really
mattered.
“Come lay with me,” he murmured, scooting over as best he could to
make room for her in the bed beside him.
Wordlessly, she abandoned her chair and slid in beside him, nestling
herself into the space he’d made for her.
She snuggled into his chest, and he brought his arm around her, holding
her close. They lay there together like
that for a long time, like they’d done so many times before, and it was not
long before she fell asleep. Smiling at
the sound of her steady, peaceful breathing, he turned his head and kissed the
top of hers lightly. Then he closed his
eyes and tried to block out all of the other noises in the room, letting her
soft snores lull him back to sleep.
***
“Nick? Come on, buddy, wake
up.”
Nick moaned and grudgingly opened his eyes. “Rok?” he rasped groggily, blinking at Brian.
“Hey, good morning,” smiled Brian.
“Did you sleep all right?”
“Yeah…” Nick reached out,
feeling for Claire on his other side, but his fingers were met with nothing but
empty space. “Is Claire here?” he asked,
wondering if she had really been there at all, or if that had just been a
dream.
“Yeah, she’s still here,” Brian replied, putting Nick at
ease. “She’s guzzling coffee in the
cafeteria with the guys,” he added with a weary chuckle.
“Did you sleep?” Nick wondered.
It didn’t look like he had; his eyes were dull and framed by dark
circles, and his face looked pinched and drawn.
He shrugged listlessly.
“Off and on,” he said. “There’s a
small, private waiting room down the hall that they let us crash in, but… it’s
kinda hard to sleep in a chair.” He made
a face, rubbing the back of his neck.
Nick smiled sympathetically.
“Sorry,” he said.
Brian waved him off. “Not
like it’s your fault,” he replied. “So anyway,
Dr. Kingsbury is down here, and she brought a surgeon with her to talk to
you. You feel up to talking to them?”
“I guess.”
Brian nodded and reached down to ruffle his hair. “I’ll bring them in,” he said, leaving the
room briefly and returning with Dr. Kingsbury and another woman who was dressed
in blue scrubs.
“Good morning, Nick. This
is Dr. Jenna Johansson. She’s a thoracic
surgeon, one of our best. I thought
you’d like to talk to her about the surgery before you make your final
decision.”
Nick nodded, and Dr. Johansson perched on the stool Dr. Kingsbury
had occupied the night before. “Well,
Nick, I’ve reviewed your CT scans with Dr. Kingsbury, and we both feel that the
tumor is operable. It’s in a tricky
spot, but I think it’s reachable. If you
still want to go for the surgery, this is what it would entail. We would do a thoracotomy, which means going
in through the side of your chest. It’s
less risky than going in from the front.”
Nick grimaced, the thought of her cutting into his chest making
him woozy. It’s either that or more chemo, he told himself, but he couldn’t
help but think that even puking his guts out 24/7 would be more pleasant than
an operation on his lung.
“Based on the size and location of your tumor,” Dr. Johansson
continued, “it looks like you’ll probably have to have a lobectomy.”
“A what-tectomy?”
“It means removing one of the lobes in your lung. In your case, it would be the top lobe of
your left lung.”
Nick stared, wide-eyed.
“You’re going to take out part of my lung??” he asked incredulously.
“It’s not as drastic as it sounds,” Dr. Johansson assured
him. “It shouldn’t affect your breathing
much at all. In fact, once we take out
the tumor and drain the fluid from your lung, and you’ve healed up, you should
be able to breathe much easier.”
Well, he certainly hoped so.
He glanced from the surgeon to Dr. Kingsbury, silently questioning
her. Was this really the right thing to
do?
“This is pretty standard for patients with lung cancer, Nick,” Dr.
Kingsbury said. “I know it’s
intimidating, but I feel that in your case, the benefits outweigh the
risks. If this surgery is successful-“
“I’ll be cured?” he asked hopefully.
She hesitated. “I didn’t
say that. After the surgery, we would
have to monitor you carefully to make sure that the cancer hasn’t spread
anywhere else. And no matter what, we
don’t like to use the word ‘cured’ until you’ve been in remission for at least
five years. But I can tell you that if
the surgery is successful, you’ll be a lot better off.”
He was silent for a moment, considering this. The surgery seemed to be the best
option. What did he have to lose? Well, a lot of things. Everything.
But he knew he didn’t want to live like this, in pain, coughing up
blood, constantly breathless. Dying
during surgery was the risk he would have to take, but he trusted Dr. Kingsbury
– the benefits outweighed the risks.
He cleared his throat and looked from Dr. Kingsbury to Dr.
Johansson. “I still want to do it,” he
said. “I want the surgery.”
***
Lying flat on his back on a gurney, looking up at the faces of the
five people he cared about more than anything in the world, Nick was hit with
an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. It had
only been a little over eight months since he had lain in this very same part
of the hospital, waiting to be taken in for the surgery to cut off his
leg. And now here he was again. And this time, it seemed like he had so much
more to lose. Not his leg, not even his
lung, but… his life.
He didn’t want to die. It
scared him so much to know that these last few minutes before the surgery could
be the last few minutes he would remember, to know that the words he said to
the people around him could be the last few words he ever spoke. He recalled what he’d said the first time
around, before the amputation surgery.
The “I love you’s,” along with his last wishes, in case anything happened. Nothing had happened then… but this time, it
could. No one had given him any odds,
which was probably for the best, but he knew how risky this surgery was. He knew that there could he horrific
complications. He knew that once they
put him to sleep, he might never wake up.
He thought maybe he should try to prepare them… and to prepare himself…
but he could not find it in him to say the words.
They knew anyway, he reasoned.
The guys knew he loved them, and they knew what he wanted if something
went wrong.
His eyes panned across Brian, Kevin, Howie, and AJ and stopped to
rest on Claire. Did she know? Did she know how
much he cared about her? He’d said the
words, but with all the chaos of the last two days… did she really know?
Kevin looked at his watch.
“Somebody should be coming to get you anytime, Nick. That guy from transport said five minutes,
and it’s been seven.”
Nick didn’t care. He didn’t
care if the guy never came to take him in.
“Things are probably just backed up,” Claire murmured. “Unless it’s an emergency, everything takes
forever around here.”
Kevin gave a short nod.
Silence.
Nick looked around again; everyone seemed to be looking at
something else. Brian was absently
chewing on one of his nails, pulling his finger out of his mouth every few
seconds to inspect it. Howie’s eyes were
on the IV bag that hung on a pole attached to the gurney, watching as the fluid
slowly dripped into Nick’s veins. Drip…
drip…
AJ’s attention was focused on something outside the small,
curtained enclosure, beyond where Nick could see. Probably a hot nurse or something – there
were some who looked pretty damn good in those scrub pants. Knowing AJ, he’d found them. No… knowing AJ, that’s what he wanted Nick to
think. Knowing AJ, he was just trying to
cover up his fear, trying to avoid the situation altogether by not even looking
at Nick. If he couldn’t see it, it
wasn’t there, and if it wasn’t there, it didn’t exist.
Nick only wished that was how it worked. If that was the case, he wouldn’t look at
himself either.
Kevin was still fixated on the time, checking his watch about
every thirty seconds. Eight minutes…
And Claire? Claire was
looking at the floor, as if she were suddenly very interested in the tiles…
white… beige… whatever color they were.
Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her, her bottom lip between
her teeth. Her stiff pose changed as a
polyphonic version of Linkin Park’s “Crawling” suddenly began to play. “Shit!” she hissed, jumping out of her stupor
and tearing open her purse, pulling out her ringing cell phone and glancing at
it briefly before shutting it off, cutting off the melody abruptly. “That fucker,” she muttered to no one in
particular, shaking her head, her cheeks bright red. “He and I are so through…”
Nick had to smirk, glad for the brief interruption. “Tim?” he asked.
She looked up at him and nodded shortly. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled quietly, “I forgot
to turn the damn thing off.”
“’Sokay,” Nick replied, offering her a slight smile. She managed a weak one back, their eyes
locking.
Brian must have noticed.
“Hey, Nick, how about the four of us guys wait out in the hall? It’s kinda crowded in here, ya know…”
AJ quickly jumped in.
“Yeah, and Claire will wait here with you till that transport dude comes
back.”
You had to love their attempts at subtlety. Nick knew exactly what was going on, and he
could tell by the tiny smile on Claire’s lips that she did too. He didn’t care; he was grateful. He nodded.
“Yeah, okay,” he said. Claire
nodded too.
“Okay. We’ll see you out in
the hall then.” The curtained area cleared
as the four men trooped out, leaving Nick and Claire alone together. Immediately, she came closer, coming up
alongside the gurney. She slipped her
hand into his and gave it a squeeze.
Hold
on to me, love
You
know I can’t stay long
All
I wanted to say was I love you
And
I’m not afraid
“You nervous?”
“Very.” There was no point
in hiding it; she knew it as well as he.
She nodded slowly.
“Remember when we talked about fate… about things happening for a
reason?”
“Y-yeah.”
“I still believe that. No
matter what happens, there’s a reason behind it. You have to believe that. I
have to believe that…”
He didn’t believe it. He
really didn’t. Everything happened for a
reason – yeah, right. What was the
reason behind any of this? Him being
sick? Her being sick? Them being
sick… together?
Together.
It slowly dawned on him that maybe that was the reason… After
all, the only good thing that had really come out of all of this was meeting
her.
He looked up into her eyes.
“I believe it,” he whispered.
She smiled crookedly and squeezed his hand even tighter. “Then it’ll be okay. Either way… it’ll be okay.”
Can
you hear me?
Can
you feel me in your arms?
Holding
my last breath
Safe
inside myself
Are
all my thoughts of you
Sweet
raptured light
It
ends here tonight…
The curtain rattled and was pushed aside. The man from transport was back. It had been at least ten minutes…
“Sorry for the wait,” he apologized. “Are you ready to go?”
“Y-yeah,” Nick croaked, his palms beginning to sweat. He was probably getting Claire’s hand all
slimy. But she didn’t seem to mind. She held onto his hand the whole time,
walking alongside the gurney as he was wheeled out into the hall, where the
four guys were waiting, just as they’d promised.
The man that was pushing the gurney stopped, letting them each
have a turn to say goodbye to Nick before they retired to one of the waiting
rooms for a long, long wait. One by one,
the guys came forward, and one by one, they stepped back. And then only Claire was left, standing at
his side, still clutching his sweaty hand.
He looked up at her, his heart hammering with nerves. “Claire, I… I just want you to know that I-“
“I know,” she smiled. “I
love you too.” Taking her hand out of
his, she touched his cheek, letting her fingers float up to sweep a few strands
of hair off of his forehead. “It’ll be
okay.”
He nodded. Either way.
She bent down and brushed his lips with hers, then pulled back,
smiling slightly. He looked at her in
surprise, instinctively licking his lips.
He was met with metallic taste of blood on his tongue. For a brief moment, he panicked, but then,
looking back up at her and noticing the droplet of crimson on her bottom lip,
he realized. She’d bitten it raw.
“You ready now, Mr. Carter?”
“I guess so,” he replied hesitantly, swallowing hard.
Claire put on a forced-looking smile. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to say good
luck, or what,” she said with a slightly frenzied giggle. “I would tell you to break a leg, but-“
He smiled. “Only got one to
break,” he returned in a whisper. “This
isn’t a performance, Claire.”
Out of nowhere, a single tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, probably hoping he
hadn’t noticed. He had. “I know,” she said, her voice catching. “I just…”
“It’s okay,” he assured her.
“I’ll see you later, okay?”
Since when was he the calm, sensible one? Wasn’t that her job?
She nodded, sniffling.
“Yeah,” she said, wiping her eyes.
“I’ll see you later. In recovery,
if they let me. I’ll be waiting.”
“Okay,” he said, trying to reassure himself. He’d see her later. Either she would be waiting for him, in
recovery… or he would be waiting for her, in a very different place.
Either way… it would be okay.
That was what he kept repeating to himself in the operating room,
as the medications took effect, carrying him off into oblivion.
Closing
your eyes to disappear
You
pray your dreams will leave you here
But
still you wake and know the truth
No
one’s there
Say
goodnight
Don’t
be afraid
Calling
me, calling me
As
you fade to black…
- “My Last
Breath” by Evanescence
***