Nick
I woke up on
Sunday feeling like shit, and the only good thought I could come up with was, At least I don’t have a show tonight. No show… just two more rounds of IV chemo and
one dose injected into my spine, which meant I could look forward to a day of
lying flat on my back and feeling crappier than I already did.
It almost
wasn’t worth it. For a few seconds, as I
lay there in bed, just staring up at the wall, I thought, Maybe I’ll just screw it all and go play basketball with Brian today. It was tempting, except that I felt too tired
to get out of bed, let alone run all up and down a basketball court, so I
figured I might as well just get the chemo over with, since I’d probably be
spending the day in bed either way.
I rolled
over, and Cary was still sound asleep next to me. She was on her side, facing away from me, and
so close to the edge of the bed that if I poked her in the back, she’d probably
roll right off. I smirked, considering
the idea. If it had been any of the guys
– Howie, especially – I totally would have done it, but not to Cary. I’m not that much of an asshole. Besides, I’d put her through enough shit
already.
I decided I
should do something nice for her, so I got up and ordered breakfast from room
service while she was still asleep.
While I waited for it to be delivered, I put on a shirt and brushed my
teeth and tried to fix my hair, which was sticking up all over the place, but
finally gave up on that. If I was going
to spend the day lying in bed, I might as well have bed head.
The knock
on the door woke up Cary, which was perfect, since it was the room service
guy. He brought in a small platter of
fresh fruit, muffins, and bagels, along with two plates of scrambled eggs and
bacon. “I didn’t know what you wanted,”
I told Cary, “so I just got some of everything.”
“It looks
great,” she said sleepily. “Just give me
a few minutes.”
She
disappeared into the bathroom, while I looked over the breakfast options. There weren’t many for me. I wasn’t supposed to eat anything raw while I
was on chemo because of the risk of germs, which eliminated the fruit. The bagels and muffins were also out because
they weren’t pre-packaged or homemade.
That left the eggs and bacon.
Technically, I wasn’t supposed to eat them either, since I hadn’t cooked
them myself, but I would have starved way back at the beginning of the tour if
I’d had to make all my own food on the road.
I decided to take my chances.
When Cary
came back out, looking fresh-faced and more awake with her hair pulled up in a
messy bun, I was digging into my mound of scrambled eggs. “Sleep well?” I asked her, between bites.
“Um. Better than I would have on the loveseat,”
she offered, with a shrug.
“I slept
like a rock. Hope I didn’t kick you or
nothin’.”
She smiled,
her cheeks turning pink. I got a kick
out of making her blush without even trying.
“You didn’t.”
She was
pretty quiet while we ate our breakfast, but then, so was I. I was still thinking about how crappy the
rest of the day was going to be, with the chemo and all. I wondered if she was still thinking about
what she’d heard AJ say the night before.
I sort of hated him for saying all those things, especially the stuff
about Paris, but then, I hadn’t said much to set him straight, either. She was probably pissed at me for that, even
though she said she wasn’t.
After
breakfast, I took a long, hot shower, delaying the inevitable. The only thing I had to look forward to when
I got out was starting chemo, so I stayed in as long as I could, until the water
started getting cold. I was just about
to turn it off when I heard a tapping sound.
I stuck my head out of the shower and realized it was Cary knocking. “Nick?
Are you okay in there?” her voice called.
“Yeah!” I
shouted back, quickly turning off the faucet.
“I’m fine. Getting out now.” She was probably worried I’d passed out or
something.
I grabbed a
clean towel and dried myself off, wrapping it around my waist. I hadn’t brought any clothes into the
bathroom with me, so I just walked out in the towel, making sure I caught the
look on Cary’s face as I crossed the room to my suitcase. I dug out a clean pair of underwear and some
comfortable shorts and took those back to the bathroom to put on.
When I came
out again, I saw that she was getting the chemo stuff set up on the coffee
table. “You ready to get this over
with?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at me. She looked relieved to see that I was at
least half-dressed this time.
I guess I
had stalled long enough. “No, but go
ahead.” I lay down on the bed and turned
on the TV, trying to distract myself while she hooked up the chemo pump. That part wasn’t bad. It didn’t hurt because of the port; I just
had to make sure I didn’t get myself tangled up in the IV line. She taped a gauze bandage over the port when
she was done, to keep the needle from being pulled out if it got bumped. I set the chemo pump down on the bed next to
me, in the little Nintendo pouch she’d made me.
Then it was
time for the spinal injection. “Be
gentle,” I begged, as I rolled over. She
always was, but that didn’t make it any easier.
It was the needle that hurt so bad, and she couldn’t change that. The numbing stuff she put on my back really
only worked on the surface; once the needle went through my skin, I could still
feel it.
I curled up
into a ball on the edge of the bed, wrapping my arms around my knees and
pulling them up to my chest, and tried to hold still as her fingers poked up
and down my backbone to find the right spot.
That part actually felt good, like a massage. If only I were getting a massage, instead of
chemo… I closed my eyes and tried to
imagine myself in a spa, lying on a massage table while a hot little masseuse
in a white uniform worked my back. The
daydream was destroyed as soon as I felt the pressure of the needle sliding
into the small of my back. I cringed and
sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth, grabbing a fistful of the covers to
clench. “Hang on,” Cary murmured, her
voice soft and soothing. “Almost done…”
Finally, I felt
the pain and pressure let up, as the needle came out. I let out the breath I’d been holding in a
sigh of relief and took a few more deep breaths. As long as I didn’t get a headache, the worst
part was over. Cary wiped off my back,
and I stretched out flat on the bed again.
Except for trips to the bathroom, it was where I’d be stuck the rest of
the day.
I wondered
if AJ had told everyone about how I’d cussed him out the day before, because
they pretty well left me alone. It was a
Sunday, so I figured Brian and Howie had found somewhere to take their families
to church. AJ actually texted me in the
afternoon. Sry bout last nite, the text said.
U guys up for seein The A-Team
with me and Justin and a few peeps?
We had
talked about seeing the new remake of The
A-Team together, and if it wasn’t for the spinal tap, I probably would have
gone. It would have been easy enough to
hide the chemo pump in a dark movie theater.
But I knew if I went out, the headache would be horrible, so I texted
back another lie: Sorry dude, I have a migraine.
Another time? At least the
lie was convincing; if anyone came by the room and found me lying in bed, a
migraine was a good excuse – and not so far from the truth, either.
AJ never
texted back, and of course, he went anyway.
“You didn’t wanna go see The
A-Team with AJ today, did you?” I asked Cary, as we sat around, watching
World Cup soccer matches on ESPN. (Well,
I was watching, anyway; she looked up from her book every once in awhile, when
the cheering on TV got loud.)
She just gave me a look that said, Are
you kidding? After he compared me to
Paris Hilton? All she actually said
was, “No.” It was enough.
I flashed
her a sheepish smile. “I figured. Just checking.”
All in all,
the day was long and boring. I felt bad
for Cary, who spent it cooped up in the hotel room with me, even though she
felt fine herself. She could have gone
out and enjoyed her free day, but she spent it taking care of me instead. I don’t think she was happy, and neither was
I. The weekend had sucked, and the next
day was going to suck even more. We had
a show, the first of three in a row, and I still had more chemo to take.
For the
first time, I really started to worry that I was in over my head, that it was
all too much, and that sooner, rather than later, it was going to catch up to
me.
Turns out,
I was right.
***