Tuesday, August 12, 2014
My eyes blinked open quickly as a sharp pain slammed down my spine to my toes. I quivered for a moment, trying to handle the onslaught of what felt like millions of needles stabbing me while every muscle in my body locked up.
My breath hitched, and I held it in my lungs as I slowly counted to ten.
Between four and seven, my vision faded to black, but by the time I got to ten, everything had subsided. Only a dull throb in my limbs as my muscles tried to relax.
These sudden aches and seizes were happening more and more.
Groaning, I pushed up to a seated position and slid my legs down the side of the bed. An oversized cardigan was draped over the footrest and I pulled it around my shoulders, my skin shivering from the cold.
“Tessa?” a sleepy voice beside me stirred. “It’s early, babe.”
I glanced behind me at Kyle. “I know, I can’t sleep. I need to stretch my legs.”
“Want me to go with you?” Concern etched his sleepy expression.
I shook my head. “I’m just going to make some tea.”
“Okay.” He yawned as his head hit the pillow. “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” I replied, feeling something strange behind my words. I felt off…disingenuous.
I got to my feet and made my way to the kitchen, filling the teakettle with water and putting it on the stove. I stood and watched it boil. I’d always heard a watched pot never boils, but I’d never tested the theory. There were so many things in life I’d just taken for granted as the way it was, but now? I had so many questions.
The teakettle began whistling after a while. I watched the steam billow from the tip, more aggressive with each passing second. It surged into the kitchen air, screaming at the top of its lungs and I just let it. Finally, I pulled it off the burner and poured the hot water into a mug, dunking the tea bag rhythmically. Still too hot to drink, I carried it to the back porch—one of my favorite parts of the house.
A wraparound veranda, it emptied onto the grass with the perfect view of the lake. The water lapped at the edges of the dock, a wall of stone keeping it from merging with our yard. A small rowboat bobbed against the currents, tied to the end of the wooden dock as the morning sun slowly began to rise over the horizon.
I sat in a chaise recliner, stretching my legs in front of me, watching the steam rise from my mug and disappear into the cool, fresh morning air. The aroma filled my nostrils and my stomach growled, though I wasn’t hungry. The sun peaked ever so slightly, barely there, on the edge of the lake.
Blowing on my tea, I watched everything around me happening slowly, trying not to blink. Trying not to miss a single second of this moment.
How many mornings had I spent never actually watching the sun rise from start to finish? The myriad of colors was soft and pale, yet bright and vibrant all at once. It was breathtaking and somehow…infuriating. How could something as majestic as a sunrise exist in the same world where cancer kills?
A wet nuzzle pressed against my leg and I looked down to see Beast attempt—and fail—to jump up and join me. Reaching down with one arm, I scooped him onto the chair beside me where he cuddled into the crook of my knee, fast asleep and snoring a minute later.
We stayed like that for a while—him oblivious, and me overanalyzing everything.
I loved my husband, I loved my family, I loved my life. But I didn’t feel very loving. My cancer would be an easy excuse. No one would expect me to feel chipper with a brain tumor. But my brain wasn’t the problem—it was my heart.
I’d spent months uprooting my entire life in pursuit of one thing I thought would fix everything. Now? I was more broken than ever before. It felt as if everything was already over, and I hadn’t even died yet.
The sunrise ended shortly, peeking high enough for its colors to dissolve into bright orange. I closed my eyes for a minute, or maybe more, feeling the rhythmic thump of Beast’s heartbeat against my leg. I smoothed a hand across his soft fur, focusing on his curls as they whispered against my fingers.
“Tessa?”
My eyes blinked open as my thoughts were interrupted by Kyle. “Yeah?”
“Morning, babe.” He leaned over the back of the chair I was sprawled on and kissed my temple. “The nurse is here.”
I relished the feeling of his lips against me, soaking in the affection I wanted to want. “Already? She’s early.”
He glanced at his watch. “You’ve been out here two hours, babe. Want me to make you some more tea? That must be cold by now.”
I sipped the edge of my cup and he was right—it was freezing. I must have dozed off for a bit. Beast jumped to the ground as I pushed to my feet. “Yeah, that would be great. I’m a bit hungry, too.”
“What about eggs?” he asked. “I’m going to make some.”
A wave of nausea slammed through me and my hand flew to the base of my throat. Shaking my head, I swallowed hard and waited for the feeling to pass. When it finally did, I choked out, “No eggs.”
Kyle’s face was concerned. “Let’s go see the nurse. She’ll have meds for the nausea.”
He offered me his arm and I slid my hand around his elbow. I was getting weaker every day, definitely thinner now, but not enough to look sickly. I knew it wouldn’t be long though.
When we entered the dining room, a tiny brunette was facing away from me, rifling through a medical bag. She began pulling out the items she needed, placing them in an orderly line on the table that she was only slighter taller than herself.
“Hi there,” I greeted her.
She turned to me, a slightly crooked smile that added so much personality to her face. I immediately wanted to know her, like her, and trust her. Her bright eyes shone and her hand rested on a swollen, pregnant belly that was so large it seemed she’d tip over. “Hi! You must be Tessa! I’m Malaika—and before you ask, my parents loved unusual names.”
We shook hands, and I smiled at her signature North Eastern accent that didn’t at all match her African name. A tiny pale woman who’d undoubtedly never seen the sun long enough to tan was the last person I expected to hold such a beautiful Swahili name, but it only made me love her that much more.
“Good to meet you, Malaika. I’m Tessa, and this is my husband, Kyle.” I nodded toward her belly. “Congratulations.”
She rubbed her hands across her stomach affectionately. “Thanks! I’m due in a little less than three months, but I popped early. This baby is going to be bigger than me.”
“You must be so excited,” I told her, digging deep to find a way to be happy for her. Babies were always a gift, but…it was a cruel slap of fate to give me the pregnant nurse. “Children are such a blessing.”
“That’s what I hear!” she exclaimed. “This will be my first, so I’m excited. Do you guys have kids?”
“We don’t have any kids,” Kyle intervened, and I let out a small sigh of relief. “So, what do you need to get started today, Malaika?”
“Nothing, actually,” Malaika assured him. “I’ll need Tessa to sit down and roll up her sleeve so I can take her vitals. We’ll discuss meds and hospice planning after.”
Hospice. The word still sent chills down my spine.
I sat down in the chair next to her, lifting one arm out of my cardigan.
Kyle kissed the top of my head. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
“Thanks, babe.”
Malaika took my blood pressure, listened to my heart, and then checked my pulse and temperature. She asked me about my food and water intake, the meds I was on, and we discussed the pain and nausea meds for when the symptoms worsened.
“I, um, saw in your chart you’ve been prescribed barbiturates, in a high dosage,” Malaika spoke slowly, as if unsure how to broach the topic. “Are you planning—”
I cut her off with a flash of my palm, already knowing her question. “I’ll be ending my own life.”
She glanced at me, then down at the chart. A feeling of dread swept through me that she might be against me, too. I straightened my shoulders, preparing for a fight.
“That’s really brave,” she replied simply.
“Oh.” Wait…what? Brave? Tell my family. “Well, thank you.”
She went on with business as usual and my entire body relaxed. “Do you have a timeline in mind or an estimated date?” she asked.
I shrugged one shoulder. “Sort of. I think October, after my birthday at the end of September. But it depends on how quickly my symptoms progress. I should be able to have ‘til November if the doctors are right.”
“So, we’re talking two to three months.”
I pulled my lips between my teeth, rolling them back out as I considered how truly short a period of time it was. “Yeah.”
“Okay, well I’ll be here to help you every step of the way. I can’t actually be involved in the final step as I’m sure you know, but I’ll be there to monitor your heart and vitals, and help your family coordinate aftercare services.”
Aftercare? It took me a moment to realize she was talking about my body…about what to do with my remains. They slid through me, emotionless—I liked the separation. That wouldn’t be me, just be a body. I’d already be gone. My pain would already be over.
Everything would be over.
She continued talking about logistics, palliative care options, and provided me with her contact information for emergencies. She promised to return every morning until symptoms worsened, and then it would be twice daily. She sorted my medications into an easy pill holder and showed me which to take when. By the end of the hour, I felt my entire life had been simplified and the relief was intoxicating. All the unknowns, once so scary, now looked routine.
I may not have the support of my family, but I had someone, and for now, that would be enough.