Rachel
With each passing day, I became more anxious about getting my biopsy results. Despite the pills the doctor had prescribed for my anxiety, I still found myself worrying about what might be wrong with me. Going to Mary’s every day to help her gave me something else to focus on. But then I did something I shouldn’t have.
I was in Mary’s library cleaning. She’d asked me to go through one of the cabinets and discard all of the old magazines. As often happens when I’m cleaning something at Mary’s, I get lost in the chaos. These magazines weren’t just any old magazines. They were historical.
I picked up a Life magazine dated November 15, 1963 with the headline, “Vietnam: The Coup in Pictures.” Another Life magazine from October 28, 1966 said, “Invasion DMZ Runs into the Marines,” and another from April 16, 1971 said in small letters, “The Ex-Beatle Tells His Story,” and then in big letters, “Paul McCartney.”
I hated the idea of trashing these old magazines. Maybe the historical society would want them. Maybe they were worth something. I should check eBay.
That’s when I started googling. At first I googled the magazines but then I started googling my symptoms. Then diagnosis and causes. Soon I was buried in a mountain of bytes. I read words like leukemia. Lymphoma. Blood disorders. Chemotherapy. Radiation. Oncology doctor.
That’s when it hit me in the gut so hard I gasped. What if it was that bad? What if I died? Piper. I needed to live for Piper.
I began to hyperventilate, breathing so rapidly that I was exhaling more than inhaling. I felt dizzy and my mouth felt as if it was stuffed with cotton. Thank God Mary walked in.
“Rachel, oh my God, what’s wrong?”
“I. Can’t. Breathe.”
Mary rushed over to me. “Look at me. Focus. Hold your breath for as long as you can. You’re hyperventilating and need to reset your breathing. Breathe with me.”
Mary held her breath for ten seconds and I followed what she did, repeating it a few times. It worked. I was eventually able to breathe normally.
Mary patted my back. “So what happened?”
I was looking up some of these old magazines and then started googling my symptoms.
“Uh-oh. It’s never a good idea to google your symptoms and diagnose yourself.”
“But what if I do have cancer? Who will take care of Piper?”
“First,” Mary said, “We take one step at a time. We go to the doctor’s tomorrow, right?”
I looked at her. “We?”
“Yes,” Mary said. “I’d like to go with you.”
“But Mary, I don’t expect…”
She held up her hand. “I’m going and whatever happens we’ll figure it out together. But you can’t worry about what-ifs. Believe me, I’ve done that and it never leads to any place you need to go. I promise you will not be alone. I will be there with you.”
Mary’s promise made me realize how deeply we’d come to care for each other in a very short time. I can’t describe the peace and warmth I felt just then. It was as if I was wrapped in a baby blanket and being held close to Mary’s chest, listening to her beating heart and feeling her breath tickle my nose. I felt safe. I felt loved.
That night, Mary made Piper and me a steak dinner. It was absolutely delicious and ended with a rich chocolate cake she’d made from scratch.
“This is the bestest cake ever,” Piper said. “I want this cake for my birthday!”
“When’s that?” Mary asked.
“January fourteenth,” Piper said.
“Well, I’ll be sure to make you this cake for your birthday.” Mary looked at me. “When’s your birthday, Rachel?”
“May eighth.”
“I’ll have to write them down so I don’t forget.”
“What about your birthday?” Piper asked.
“Actually,” Mary said. “It was last week.”
I put down my fork. “Mary, I had no idea. Why didn’t you say something? Happy belated birthday!”
“Did you have a special cake?” Piper asked.
Mary smiled. “Oh, girls, it wasn’t a big deal. Besides, you’re my gifts.”
“But you didn’t open us,” Piper said. “You should have a present to open.”
Mary reached over and patted Piper’s hand. “The best presents aren’t wrapped in paper and bows.”
Piper jumped off her chair and ran over to Mary and hugged her.
On our way home, Piper talked non-stop. She wanted to do something special for Mary since we’d missed her birthday.
“I can bake a cake and decorate it all by myself,” Piper said. “And I can draw a picture for her.”
Over the past few weeks, Mary’s refrigerator had gone from a blank canvas to one bursting with color. Every drawing that Piper did ended up there. Mary said she’d have to turn one wall in the house into a giant chalkboard for Piper. I thought she was kidding. She wasn’t. One day painters came and painted one of the kitchen walls with chalkboard paint. They also installed a band of corkboard at the top that ran the length of the wall. Like the refrigerator, it, too, was soon covered in drawings.
I fell into bed that night but had trouble falling asleep. The idea of finding out what was wrong with me had me on edge. I also wondered about Piper’s dad. I hadn’t heard anything from him in a while.
When I woke up the next morning, there was a text from Nick.
Good luck at the doctor’s today. Thinking about you.
His text made me smile.
I texted back.
Thanks, Nick. Talk to you later.
I also heard from Claire.
Call me after the doctor’s. K?
K. I texted back.
Mary arrived and, after putting Piper on the bus, we headed to my doctor’s appointment. Mary insisted on driving.
“So, I heard from Ralph and it seems Piper’s dad is even more of a mess than we thought.”
“Really?”
Mary nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up back in jail. Sounds like he’s got into heroin.”
“Oh, Mary. The sooner we can get this taken care of the better.”
“I agree.”
I never realized how long a second was until we were waiting for Dr. Sweet to come into his office. Mary and I sat on black soft-leather chairs in front of a massive wooden desk that looked too big for the office.
I scanned the beige walls and noticed his framed diplomas and medical certificates. A white tin with lollipops painted on it sat on his desk. It looked old and I wondered if it had been his father’s. Also on his desk was a pair of colorful Chinese medicine balls carved from wood. I wondered if they were just for decoration or if he used them to help relieve stress.
I jerked when the door opened and Dr. Sweet walked in. He wore a white lab coat over his blue button-down shirt and tan pants. A stethoscope wrapped around his neck. He held out his hand. “Good morning, Rachel. It’s good to see you again.”
I smiled. “Hi, Dr. Sweet.”
He looked at Mary. “And Mary, it’s always good to see you.”
Mary smiled. “Well, I had to be here for my girl.” She patted my hand.
Dr. Sweet sat down and opened his computer and typed a few words before looking up.
“Rachel, I’m sorry. This isn’t the news I wanted to give you. The biopsy shows you have Hodgkin lymphoma.”
I gasped. My whole body began to shake. There were certain words I hadn’t wanted to hear, and lymphoma was one of them. Mary’s hand tightened around mine.
“I’m sorry, Rachel. We’ll do everything we can to help you.” He continued to talk about imaging tests to determine if the cancer had spread and how that would determine the treatment and prognosis. He told me that it was most common in early adulthood, especially when a person was in their twenties like me. Suddenly, I started to hyperventilate. The room was spinning. All I could think about was Piper. Who would take care of her if I no longer could?
Mary responded like she had before, helping me to restore normal breathing. But seeing tears form in the corners of her eyes was all it took for me to melt down and sob. I buried my face into my hands and my whole body shook. Mary rubbed my back while Dr. Sweet pulled up a chair and sat down on the other side of me.
“Rachel,” Dr. Sweet said. “You are not alone. I will walk with you on this journey. But we must take it one step at a time.”
“Dr. Sweet’s right,” Mary said. “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.”
Dr. Sweet talked some more about our next steps but I’m not sure I heard much of what he said. Mary, however, pulled out a small notebook she kept in her purse and began to take notes and ask questions. I was grateful she’d insisted on coming along to my appointment.
On the drive home, I was too exhausted to say much.
“How about I go through the drive-thru and get you something to eat?” Mary asked. “Then you can take a nap when we get back to the apartment and I’ll get Piper off the bus.”
I nodded. I wasn’t hungry but I knew I should probably eat something. “I might be able to eat a burger and fries off the kids’ menu.”
Mary carried the takeout into the house and I tried to eat but I only managed a few bites of the burger and a couple of fries.
Mary put her burger down. “Rachel, I don’t want to pressure you to talk, but I want you to know that I’m here for you and Piper. Whatever you need me to do, just let me know.”
I looked at her, wondering if I should share what I’d been thinking. “Can I ask you to do something I have no right to ask you to do?”
Mary’s brows furrowed. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“As soon as we can get Piper’s dad’s rights terminated, will you adopt her?”
“Rachel, one step…”
I interrupted. “I know. One step at a time. But I’m not sure what’s going to happen to me. I might die. I need to know Piper will be taken care of if I can no longer take care of her. She can’t end up in foster care. Can you do that for me? Will you do that for Piper?”
Tears streamed down Mary’s face and her chin wobbled. She reached for a tissue and dabbed her eyes. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“That I also adopt you.”