Brian called that evening, asking how Nick’s doctor’s appointment
had gone.
“Sucked ass,” Nick replied flatly.
“Why, what happened?” Brian asked cautiously. “Was everything okay?”
Nick sighed. “Well, the
chest x-ray and bone marrow looked good, but the CT sc-“
“Whoa, whoa, what? Chest
x-ray? Why did they do that?” Brian
interrupted, and Nick realized just how in the dark he was about this whole
thing.
“To see if the cancer’s spread to my lungs,” he explained and
heard Brian suck in a nervous breath of air.
“Don’t worry,” he added quickly.
“It hasn’t. But anyway, the
x-rays they did on my leg showed that the hole hasn’t closed up that much yet,
so my doctor wants to put me on some new chemo drugs that are more powerful
than the ones I’m on now.”
“Oh no… will that make you sicker?”
“Yup. Sucks, don’t it?”
“Yeah… so when will you start that?”
“Tomorrow. And they have to
put me in the hospital to do it – something about to see if I have a reaction
to the new drugs.”
“Oh my gosh… that sounds serious…” Brian remarked, his voice
filled with apprehension. “Do… do you
want me to come stay with you?”
“Oh, no way, dude, I’m cool,” Nick said quickly. It really didn’t sound like such a bad idea
to him, but admitting that would be selfish.
Brian had a wife and kid now; he needed to be with them in Atlanta. Besides, Nick didn’t really need Brian seeing
him stuck in a hospital bed, all sick and puking like that. Let him stay home and see Baylee crawl or
whatever it was he did instead. Speaking
of Baylee… “Hey, what’s my godson been
up to lately?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Can he talk yet? You gotta teach
him to say my name, man.”
Brian laughed. “Nick, he’s
only six months old… babies don’t talk till they’re like one.”
“Oh.”
“Dude, you’re the one with all the younger siblings. Don’t you remember anything?”
“Hells no, how would I remember that? I was like seven when Aaron and Angel were
born; that’s too young to remember when they started talking and shit.”
“You know, you better work on that potty mouth of yours before I
let you near my son again,” Brian teased.
“When he does start talking, I don’t want his first words to be
‘hells no’ or ‘and shit’.”
Nick laughed. “Ya know,
maybe you shouldn’t have made me his godfather then. I’m a bad influence.”
Brian chuckled. “Yeah, but
AJ’s probably worse.”
“What about Howie? Howie
don’t swear.”
“Yeah, and he doesn’t say ‘Howie don’t’ either. Great, now my kid’s gonna pick up bad grammar
from you, too.”
“Huh?”
“’Howie doesn’t,’ Nick,” Brian lectured. “It’s ‘Howie doesn’t’.”
“Oh. Whatever.”
Brian just laughed. “So
anyway,” he said, “how long will you have to stay in the hospital?”
“I dunno, a couple days.”
“That sucks… are you sure you don’t want me to come visit?”
“No, Rok, seriously, I’m fine.
I’m a big boy now; I can handle this on my own.”
“Maybe, but you shouldn’t have to.
Being in the hospital sucks no matter what, but it’s worse on your
own. When I went in for my surgery, I
don’t know what I would have done without you guys and my family being there.”
“Well, yeah, but that was different. This ain’t that big of a deal. I’m not having surgery or anything, and it’s
only for two days. I’ll be fine,” he
said again.
“Well, all right,” Brian finally relented, “but, listen, you call
if you need anything, okay? I’m just a
state away.”
Nick smiled. “Okay,
Bri. Thanks.”
“No problem, bud. I’ll let
you go now then; I’m sure you’re not feeling too well. Talk to you later?”
“Yup,” said Nick. “Talk to
you later, man. Bye.”
They hung up, Nick smiling.
That was Brian for you, taking after his cousin, always a little overly
concerned when it came to Nick. Sure, it
got annoying at times, especially now that Nick was all grown up, but still, he
had to admit… he liked it that way.
Brian truly cared. And that was
what mattered.
***
Checking into the hospital the following morning was something
like willingly going to jail. (Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.) The hospital was his prison, the room on the
oncology floor his cell. He was issued
the standard garb, a paper-thin patterned gown, and sent to bed, where he
awaited Dr. Kingsbury’s visit.
“Good morning, Nick,” she greeted him with a smile. “How are you feeling?”
Nick shrugged. “All right,
I guess,” he muttered unenthusiastically.
He noticed that she was carrying an IV bag filled with fluid and asked,
“So, is that the new stuff?”
“That’s it,” answered Dr. Kingsbury and hung the bag on an IV
stand next to his bed.
“Ohh man, are you gonna have to put one of those IV’s in my hand
again?” Nick asked, filled with dread at the thought a needle sliding into his
vein. He had to admit, it really didn’t
hurt once it was in, but boy it sure stung as it was going in.
“No, actually, I’ll just attach it to your catheter. Lucky you, huh – that central line comes in
handy.”
“Yeah,” Nick said, relieved.
He watched with mild interest as Dr. Kingsbury hooked a line from the IV
bag to the tube in Nick’s chest. She
made some adjustments, and moments later, the fluid began to drip from the bag
and run through the thin tube into his catheter.
Dr. Kingsbury stood and watched it for a few minutes, then asked,
“How are you feeling now? Everything
okay?”
“Yeah…” Nick answered cautiously.
“Why? Is this stuff gonna make me
turn freakin’ purple or something?”
Dr. Kingsbury laughed. “No,
but some people feel a burning sensation when the chemo goes into their bloodstream,
and others get physically ill right away.”
“Oh… well, I feel okay…” Nick said hopefully. Grinning mischievously, he added, “So can I
go home now?”
“Haha, nice try. No, like I
said, I still need to keep you here to observe how you tolerate the chemo. It’s great that you feel fine now, but – and
I hate to say this – you’ll probably feel a lot worse by this afternoon.”
Nick nodded dolefully and knew she was probably right. He hated it, yet if this new medication did
the trick, put him in remission, and cured his cancer, it would be worth the
misery, right?
That’s what he tried to keep telling himself anyway.
***