Chapter 30
It was a good
thing Nick had taken a nap that afternoon, for the night following it was spent
praying to the porcelain god. Finally,
in the wee hours of the morning, a weary Nick fell into a restless sleep. He woke up hours later, feeling not the least
bit refreshed. Still, not content to lie
in bed all day, he decided to get up.
Dragging himself blearily out of bed, he did not notice the wisps of
blonde hair that covered his pillow. He
felt like utter crap and decided a nice hot shower was the best hope for
relief, so he staggered into the bathroom, turned on the spray, shed his clothes,
and climbed in.
Sighing through
the steam as the warm water massaged his body, Nick took the bar of soap and
ran it over his skin, cleansing himself of the previous night’s torment. Then he squirted a liberal amount of shampoo
into his hand, rubbed his palms together, and raked his fingers through his
hair, smoothing in the shampoo. Closing
his eyes, he continued to knead his scalp.
Finally, he pulled back his sudsy hands and placed them under the jet,
opening his eyes to watch the white foam wash away. But when he looked at his hands, he was shocked
to see that shampoo suds were not all that covered his palm. Stringy, wet, hairs were plastered to his
skin.
“Oh my God…” Nick’s voice was trembling just as much as
the rest of him as he stared at his hands.
Putting them back under the water, he rubbed them together furiously,
scrubbing at them, trying to wash the hair off.
The wet strands slid off his skin and landed on the smooth white bottom
of the tub, working their way down to the drain with the flow of the water.
“Please, no, not
yet…” Nick whimpered, gingerly reaching up to his head. With his thumb and forefinger, he delicately
touched a small lock of hair. Separating
a few hairs from the rest, he gave them a friendly tug. Instead of clinging fast to his scalp, they
slid out easily between his fingers.
Flicking the hair away in disgust and watching it wash down the drain
with the rest, Nick could feel himself rapidly losing it. Tears stung his eyes and slid down his
cheeks, mixing with the shower water.
This was it. The much dreaded side effects were starting,
and his hair was going. There was no
more denying what was happening to him, and soon, he feared, the whole world
would know.
Crying, Nick sank
down to a squat, hugging his knees to his chest. His shin throbbed under his weight, but he
welcomed the pain. Staring down at the
hair flattened against the bottom of the tub, blemishing its pure porcelain whiteness,
he felt sick to his stomach. He was not
sure if it was just another side effect of the chemo or the product of his own
distraught state, but all of a sudden, he let loose, retching onto the tub
bottom. The watery beige vomit blended
with the water, staining it light brown, and slowly washed away.
With one
trembling hand, Nick reached forward and turned off the tap. Immediately, the water that rained down on
him like tears from Heaven stopped, and he was left with his tears alone. The desecrated mix of water, suds, vomit, and
hair washed away, but Nick remained, curled up in a ball on the tub’s cold,
hard bottom like a frightened child.
Only when his skin was dry and covered in goose bumps did he slowly rise
and climb out, only to throw a towel around his quivering shoulders and perch
on the edge of the tub to wallow in his own misery.
***
Nick emerged from
the bathroom awhile later feeling rather depressed, but also extremely
foolish. What was wrong with him? He had broken down and bawled like a baby…
over hair? Sure, he liked his
hair, and he knew plenty of teenage girls liked it too… but it wasn’t the end
of the world. It wasn’t even the end of
his hair… sure, it would probably all fall out eventually and leave him bald,
but it would grow back. And that was
better than slowly going permanently bald… which was what he was sure was
happening to AJ, whose hairline was probably receding due to excess use of hair
dye.
Nick couldn’t
help but smile at that; it was one of the few things the guys could tease AJ
about. Yes, AJ’s hair, Howie’s random
winking, Brian’s Christianity, Kevin’s eyebrows, and Nick’s… well… Nick’s any
number of things – his “difficulties with words”, his lack of geographical
knowledge, his arrest, his dancing, his former girlfriends, his constipated
facial expressions in the “Quit Playing Games” video, his horrible German
pronunciation, the pooping in the sock incident, his weight… the list went on
and on.
At least his
weight wouldn’t be an issue anymore.
That was the one good effect of his cancer – he had lost at least forty
pounds by now, though the guys had yet to say anything. Then again, he wore his clothes big and baggy
now to hide the catheter and the infusion pump bag, so maybe they hadn’t
noticed. He just hoped he wouldn’t be
put on whatever the hell that Claire girl was taking, or he’d gain it all right
back again and then some.
But the issue at
hand now was not his weight, but the episode he had just had in the
shower. What the hell was that? Was the chemo messing with his emotions now
too? He felt like a pregnant woman (or
how he imagined a pregnant woman might feel, though he had no real experience
in that issue), overly hormonal. Now AJ
would really say he was PMSing. If only
he would get the food cravings… that would definitely be nice, for when he was
on chemo, food lost all its appeal. And
to Nick, that was a tragedy. Nick liked
food.
He also liked
Nintendo, and that’s what he decided to do next. It would help him take his mind off
everything, including his impending nausea.
So, turning on the TV and the Gamecube he had hooked up to it, he
grabbed his controller and lowered himself painfully to the floor, stretching
his legs out in front of him. He
realized his left leg still looked puffy and bigger than the right one. Remembering he had forgotten to put on his
leg brace after getting dressed, he half-crawled, half-dragged himself across
the floor to retrieve it from the spot where he had dropped it the previous
afternoon. He strapped it tightly around
his left leg to hide his swollen shin and eased himself back into his spot in
front of the television.
Within minutes,
he was totally entranced in the game and had forgotten about everything – his
leg, his hair, his nausea, his chemo, his cancer, his career, and even his
bandmates.
Blasting away an
oncoming monster with a big gun, he couldn’t help but smile. Nintendo ruled.
***