Chapter
34
By Julie
I was awoken by someone gently nudging
me. “Brian?” asked a voice softly. I forced open my eyes and saw my mother
leaning over me.
I sighed. “What?” I asked grouchily.
“Dr. Collins is here to talk to you,”
she said, ignoring my grumpiness. I
sighed again and glared up at Dr. Collins, but said nothing.
“Good afternoon, Brian. How are you feeling?” asked the doctor.
“Not good,” I said, frowning. I quickly glanced over at Nick, who was lying
motionless, as always.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dr. Collins
said, concern in his voice. “Are you in
pain?”
“Yes, but not the kind of pain any
medication can fix,” I thought bitterly, but I didn’t say it. “I’m fine,” I mumbled.
“Okay.
Well then, I would like to discuss the x-rays that we took of your leg
this morning,” Dr. Collins started. “I’m
afraid one of the bones in your leg, the tibia, is broken very badly, in two
places. It is going to require surgery
to fix it. We will need to put some pins
in the bone to line it back up so it can mend properly.”
I sighed heavily. “I don’t want any more surgery,” I said
flatly.
“Brian, without surgery, the bone will
never heal correctly and you might not ever be able to walk on it again, not to
mention you will be in a lot more pain,” Dr. Collins explained.
“I don’t care. I don’t plan on walking again anyway,” I said
bitterly. My mom gasped.
“Brian?! What kind of a thing is that to say? What is wrong with you?” she asked, concern
filling her clear blue eyes.
I ignored her. “I don’t want another operation, and that’s
final,” I stated.
Dr. Collins sighed. “Brian, you are an adult. You have the right to refuse surgery, but
that would be very unwise. Without
surgery, you could spend the rest of your life walking with a cane or even
crutches because your leg will never heal right,” he explained.
“I don’t care,” I replied
sullenly.
“But, honey, what about your
career? What about all the dancing? What about sports? You can’t play basketball on crutches you
know,” my mother said.
“I don’t want to play basketball
anymore, and I don’t give a shit about my career. I do not want another fucking surgery, and
that is final! Now go away and leave me
alone!” I yelled angrily at my mother and Dr. Collins. They both looked shocked at my outburst. I was actually a little shocked myself. I rarely cussed like that, especially in
front of my mother.
Suddenly, she began to cry
softly. I immediately felt bad and began
to regret what I had said when I saw how hurt and upset she was. I had never made my mother cry before.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, hating
myself for what I had done. She looked
up at me, her eyes bright with tears, but said nothing. I sighed.
“Okay, fine. I will have the
surgery,” I said.
“Are you sure?” Dr. Collins asked,
studying me. “This is your decision.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I replied,
irritated.
“Okay then,” he said. “I am scheduling the surgery for tomorrow
morning at ten o’clock, okay?” I
nodded. “I’ll let you get some rest now. See you tomorrow,” Dr. Collins said and left
the room.
“I’m going to go down to get a cup of
coffee or something in the cafeteria.
Your father and brother are down there now,” my mom said. She left the room without a backward glance, and
I knew she was still angry with me. I
felt horrible. I was even more depressed
now than ever. I hoped that something
would go wrong in surgery, and that I would die. If Nick died, I didn’t want to live
either. Dying in surgery would be my
easy way out. No pain.
***
The next morning, I woke up bright and
early. I felt oddly calm. I remembered the day of my heart surgery in
’98, I woke up a bundle of nerves. Of course, that was much more serious than
this was going to be. But I knew the
real reason was because now, I didn’t care what happened to me. If something went wrong, it wouldn’t matter
to me because without my best friend around, I didn’t want to be alive.
At nine thirty, I was taken down the
surgical holding area, where I was given medication to relax me. My parents and Harold gathered around
me. They were casual. They didn’t have any fears about the
operation, since it was just on my leg.
But I was prepared to give my final goodbyes. I had prayed that God would let me die during
the surgery, knowing it was a much easier way to go than to kill myself when
Nick died. At least this way, my parents
wouldn’t be mad at me for killing myself.
They would believe it was the doctors’ fault.
I was very quiet at first, but then,
right around 9:50, I began to speak. “I
love you all,” I said to my family.
“Oh Babyduck, we love you too,” my mom
said, gently hugging me.
“Just in case something bad happens,
will you guys promise me to watch out for Kev and Howie and AJ,” I asked.
My mother gasped. Harold and my father’s eyes widened.
“What are you talking about, bro?”
Harold asked me. “After all that you’ve
been through, this surgery is gonna be a piece of cake.”
I nodded, but I knew otherwise. Then I looked up and saw tears filling my
mother’s eyes. “What’s wrong, Mom?” I
asked.
“Brian, why are you being so
negative?” she asked. “What has gotten
into you?”
I was about to shrug off her question
and pretend like nothing was wrong, but something hit me, and I suddenly was
overcome with emotion. Did I really want
to die in surgery? How could I pray to
God that I would die? How could I do
that to my family? I suddenly began to
cry too. I was an awful person.
“Oh baby,” my mom said, leaning over
and ruffling my hair. “Are you scared
about this operation? Honey, it really
isn’t anything to be worried about.”
“It’s not the operation I’m worried
about,” I said through my tears.
“What is it then?” my father asked
gently.
“Is it Nick?” asked my mother.
I nodded. Suddenly, I knew I couldn’t keep my feelings
in any longer. “I don’t want to go on
living without him,” I admitted, fresh tears coming to my eyes. “He’s my best friend.”
In an instant, my mother was hugging
me again. “Brian, sweetheart, I know he
is, and I know this is difficult for you, but you can’t say you don’t want to
live anymore. Think of how awful that
would be. Everyone is upset enough about
Nick being so sick, but what would happen if you died too? That would be double the grief for all of
us.” She was crying even more, and I
felt terrible for ever hoping I would die.
If I died, my pain would be over, but hers and everyone else’s would be
doubled. I cared too much about my
family and friends to do that to them.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I wouldn’t want to hurt you. I love you.”
She smiled tearfully at me.
Suddenly, Dr. Collins came in. “It’s time to take you down to surgery now,”
he said. My mother hesitantly let go of
me and backed up.
“We love you, Babyduck,” she said as
Dr. Collins and some nurses wheeled my gurney away.
“I love you too,” I said, smiling at
my whole family, as I was wheeled down the hall to the operating room.
***
