Chapter 29
Chapter
Twenty-Nine
DON’T MENTION THE ‘C’ WORD
Neve
“Now have you got everything?” the nurse asks.
“Yes I think so.” Hope nods from her wheelchair, piled high with teddies. The scan had shown that the tumour had shrunk again slightly. They were still deciding what the next step would be. At this point I was just wanting to take my baby home. She needed the break from the hospital and so did I.
We thank the staff, hugging each one of them. They’ve been amazing in caring for Hope. As we make it through the main foyer of the hospital, Hope spots Jack stood outside waiting. “Jack,” she calls excited.
He crouches down and holds out his arms. I wheel her to him and she wraps her little arms tightly around his neck. “I’ve missed your big hugs,” she tells him. I smile as a lone tear escapes.
“Now come with me my dear princess, your carriage awaits.” He leans down picking her up from the wheelchair and starts walking off.
“Jack, what are you doing?” I laugh, but my laughter soon dies when I see what is waiting for Hope at the end of the hospital car park. “You can’t be serious,” I breathe.
“Your majesty, I have assured that you will ride home in the most perfect way, a way in which only a princess like yourself should travel,” Jack says, putting on a posh voice.
“Oh my god Jack!” Hope yells. “Mummy look, look! A horse and carriage!” she squeals excitedly.
Jack helps seat her and then turns to me, taking the bags and placing them somewhere on the back. I don’t know where. I wasn’t really paying attention. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the sight before me. Jack steps in front of me, cupping my face. “You can stop looking so stunned now.” He smiles.
“You arranged this for her,” I whisper. He nods. “All of this is incredible.” I smile as my tears fall.
“Hey, no crying. I will do anything for her and anything for you. She deserves this and you deserve to see her being a child again.” He kisses me softly and takes my hand, helping me onto the carriage.
It takes us over an hour to get back to Jack’s apartment.
We decided it would be better Hope staying here with the elevator access and it being closer to the hospital.
We put the whole moving in together thing on pause until we knew what was going on with Hope.
That and I don’t have the energy to pack up and move.
As we exit the elevator I notice the banner above the front door, Welcome home Hope.
He winks and wheels Hope to the door, unlocks it and walks through.
“SURPRISE!” everyone shouts, streamers and balloons everywhere.
Bella and Phil, Pearl and my parents all stand there clapping and cheering Hope’s return home.
“Don’t cry, don’t cry,” I whisper to myself to get a hold of my emotions.
Hope hugs each one of them tightly. Bella walks up to me and pulls me tight into her arms. There’s something to be said about a best friend’s hug; it’s one thing that can give you strength or it can be your complete undoing and in my case it was the latter.
I broke. My body shook with silent sobs.
For weeks I have been in hospital with Hope unable to let out my feelings for fear of not being strong enough for Hope.
For fear of worrying her, for fear of seeing my biggest fear that she wouldn’t make it out of there alive.
Bella guides me out to the balcony, followed by Pearl. Jack distracts Hope as do my parents. “Shhh, it’s okay, she’s home, she’s home,” Bella soothes.
“Here, drink this.” Pearl hands me a glass and I take a large gulp, which I instantly regret. I begin coughing. “Fuck, what was that – lighter fluid?” I wheeze.
“It’s just a brandy, to help calm your nerves. Here take this, too.” She shoves a lit cigarette in my mouth. I cough. “Pearl!” I screech.
“What? You’re hysterical. You need everything you can get to help calm you down,” she adds, snatching the cigarette from me and putting it in her mouth. She rummages around her bag, pulling out a tub before she hands me a brownie.
“I’m not really in the mood to eat,” I state.
She rolls her eyes. “It’s a hash cake, a special type of brownie. If you catch my drift.” She winks.
“Jesus Christ Pearl, the sniffer dogs at Heathrow can catch you drift from here. She’s okay, she just needed a minute. Poor cow has been shut up away in that hospital watching poor Hope, she needed this outburst,” Bella points out.
“I get that. See in my day we would be sectioned for outbursts like that,” Pearl adds.
“When was your day? The 1800’s?” Bella snorts.
“Laugh all you like, women were not allowed to be hysterical. If you had post-natal depression you couldn’t get help. You had to just put up with it,” Pearl states.
“Well, I hope you’re feeling better after listening to that.” Bella rolls her eyes. “If she wasn’t depressed before she is now.”
“Actually it has cheered me up, I needed this. I need normality. I need no conversations about the ‘C’ word. I just want to relax and enjoy spending time with my friends and even my parents.” I smile.
“Noted. From here on out I will withdraw from saying cunt. I promise best behaviour all the way,” Bella promises, crossing her heart.
“She means cancer you thick shit,” Pearl chastises.
Bella looks at Pearl then me. I nod laughing. “Okay well, I will keep both the ‘C’ words out of conversation then,” Bella adds.
We go back inside and sit, eating an array of party food that Jack with the help of my mother made. Hope cuddles in between Jack and I. I smile down at her asleep cuddling her Stitch teddy. I snuggle in closer to her, closing my eyes before I join her falling into a deep sleep.
Jack took extra time off work to spend time with Hope and I. “Have you decided on the next approach yet?” Jack asks me. I shake my head no.
“I can’t decide. Do we put her through the chemo again, making her so poorly for the tumour to shrink by the tiniest amount or do we sign the form for her to have surgery in which we risk losing her completely?
But if it’s successful and they can remove a large amount of tumour or all of it, it would mean she could live her life. She could be a kid.” I sigh.
“But it will never go away completely,” Jack adds.
I rub my face. “I know that. It’s deciding whether to risk her life now or later. That is the option to play roulette with her life.”
“You know whatever you decide, I will be with you. You’re not in this alone,” Jack assures me.
I nod. I know he will be there with me. I know he will support me. It’s still a decision no parent wants to ever choose. “Let’s go for a walk along the river,” I suggest, needing to get out.
“Sure, I will get the blankets out.” Jack gets up off the sofa and grabs the blankets for Hope.
“Hope, baby, lets go for some fresh air,” I say to her as I walk into her room.
I see blood on her pillow. “Oh my lovely.” I grab a couple of tissues from the box by the side of her bed.
It’s become a regular occurrence, her having a nose bleed.
She sits up and I wipe her nose and strip her pillow case from her bed.
“We thought we would go see the boats and ducks along the river,” I tell her.
“Okay Mummy.” She yawns, still sleepy from her nap.
Once Hope is wrapped up warm in her wheelchair we head out and walk along the path, until we find a bench. We take a seat and Hope feeds the ducks some food we purchased. “Hope, can I ask you a really, really grown up question?” Jack asks.
I frown confused. “Sure, I can be a real grown up girl sometimes, can’t I Mummy?” Hope asks.
“You sure can,” I agree.
“Good. So if the doctors offered you two choices, one would mean doing something that could be dangerous but would mean you wouldn’t have to have that horrible medicine for a while.
Or would you want more of the that horrible medicine, because even though it makes you poorly it is a little safer,” Jack asks her.
I want to interrupt him, to tell him to stop it.
But I also want to know what Hope decides.
“I never want to have that horrible medicine again,” Hope states firmly.
“What, not ever?” I ask.
“No, Mummy. I don’t like it. I felt so sick all the time,” she states and her face is sad.
“But what if the other thing doesn’t work?” I ask her.
“Then, I go to be with the angels in the sky,” she states.
Tears fill my eyes. I haven’t discussed this with her. I didn’t want her knowing that what she had was life threatening. I wanted to keep her innocent. She’s four. She should never have to think about life and death.
“There was this girl, she was in the room next to me. She looked like me, Mummy. But she was a bigger girl. She went to big school, she told me that she was going to be with the angels,” Hope tells me.
I wipe my tears from my face. “When did you speak to this girl?” I ask her.
“When you fell asleep, she would stop in the doorway and talk to me. I liked her. Maybe if I go to be with the angels I will see her,” Hope states innocently.
I feel like someone is stabbing a knife right through my heart. To hear your child talk about death, to talk about dying so calmly, so matter of fact.
“But won’t you miss Mummy? And Jack?” I ask.
“But I won’t need to miss you because I will always be here,” she tells me. “She told me we never leave. We just become an angel.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Was she lying Mummy?” Hope asks. I shake my head vigorously.
“No, no darling, she was telling the truth.” I smile tightly and Jack squeezes my hand.
Hope reaches to the side of her and picks up a dandelion. She smiles. “Make a wish,” I tell her.
She thinks for a moment, then blows and we sit and watch the seeds float away. “What did you wish for?” I ask her.
“I wished that you would smile again,” Hope states.
“I smile all the time,” I tell her. “I’m smiling right now.”
She shakes her head no. “It’s not the same smile Mummy. Your eyes don’t sparkle anymore.”