Chapter 50
Price
I thinkmy cancer is pissed off that I tried and nearly succeeded at its eradication. The pain has reached a new level at warp speed. In a matter of weeks, it’s dug its claws into me, bringing me to my knees just in time for chemo.
I’m grateful we had one last Christmas together.
I’m grateful I got to see the look on Astrid’s face when she unwrapped her scooter.
I’m grateful that Amelia and the rest of my family didn’t treat me like a lost cause, even if I knew they were thinking it.
My dad was the only one who let the words “it was too good to be true” slip out at dinner. My mom quickly corrected him with her declaration of gratitude for miracles.
As I slide on my T-shirt, my back protests. Everything protests. I don’t remember giving my body permission to give up, but my mind hasn’t been where it was the first time I tried to fight this. Today feels like an official waving of the white flag. Cancer, you win.
And I hate that I can’t trick my mind into believing I can beat this despite the highly toxic drugs that will be dripping into my veins by ten o’clock this morning.
“I packed several books, your headphones, water, and snacks,” Amelia says as I descend the steps to the foyer. “Your mom’s in the kitchen making breakfast for Astrid. I’m interviewing several personal chefs next week. I want you to have whatever you need. I should have suggested it a long time ago.” Her gaze drops to her feet.
I nod slowly.
A brave smile touches her lips as she glances back up at me. When she digs her key fob from her purse, her shaky hand drops it on the floor.
We squat at the same time. I grab it, and my other hand takes hers as it shakes. When we stand, she eyes me with regret and unshed tears.
Cupping her hand, I bring it to my lips, closing my eyes while kissing her wrist, palm, and fingers. When I open my eyes, she blinks out her tears.
“Are you scared?” she whispers, her words trembling as much as the rest of her.
Keeping my lips pressed to the pulse point on her wrist, I shake my head. “No, my love.”
I hope she finds love again when I’m gone. She has so much to share. Some lucky guy will find himself in her path, hopefully not on a bike at a busy intersection, and his life will forever be changed for the better.
“Listen to me. You are the greatest love of my life. And I’m so very sorry for every unkind word I’ve said out of anger, frustration, and fear. Nothing that has happened or will happen to me in the future is your fault. I credit you with everything beautiful in my life. Being your husband and Astrid’s father is an extraordinary gift. Whether I have five days, five years, or five decades left, I could not possibly feel more whole than I do right now.”
My wife shakes in silent sobs.
“Let’s go.” I squeeze her hand before releasing it and picking up the bag she packed for me.
The entire way to the cancer center, I rest my hand on her leg. This is her grueling journey, not mine.
I will be fine.
We update labs, and a young brunette nurse named Rose walks us through the procedure and asks if we have any questions.
When Dr. Faber discussed placing a port, I declined. So we’re doing an IV infusion in my arm.
As Rose places the IV, Amelia blinks back her tears.
“Baby, you don’t need to stay. Why don’t you take a walk or check in with Astrid?”
She shakes her head, eyes glued to the IV.
“There’s a cafeteria,” Rose says. “The coffee’s pretty good. And it’s early enough that the bagels might not be too hard.” She softly chuckles.
Amelia doesn’t even look like she’s mentally in the same room. Tears continue to fill her unblinking eyes.
The nurse inserts the syringe into the line.
“No!” Amelia lunges for her. “No. No. No …” She rips the needle out of her hand, tossing it aside before pulling the IV from my arm. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so s-sorry.” She sobs, climbing onto my lap while the nurse presses a cotton ball to my arm.
Amelia cups my face, forehead against mine, while she falls to pieces. “We’ll go. We can go anywhere y-you want in the whole w-world.”
I close my eyes. My heart feels like it’s been permitted to beat again.
“Not l-like this …” Her trembling fingers caress my cheeks like I’m fragile. “I can’t do th-this. I can’t do life without you. Let’s go.” She lifts her head. “Let’s take Astrid and leave everything and everyone else behind.” The pad of her thumb brushes my lips. “I was trying to save myself.” Again, she rests her head on mine.
The nurse tapes the cotton to my arm and leaves us alone.
“I’m sorry, baby,” my wife whispers. “I can’t save myself if you’re gone. I’ll d-die right beside you.” She sniffles. “And Astrid needs us. Live for us. P-please.”
I wrap my arms around her. “Let’s go live.”
In less than twenty-four hours,we say goodbye to our family and a few close friends. The goodbye to my mom is the hardest because as much as I want to promise her that we’ll see each other again someday, I can’t.
The cancer is more advanced. I feel it.
I don’t know if having Amelia and Astrid with me will help or hinder my fight.
I’m in pain.
I’m weak.
And I’m just so exhausted.
Before we left for the cancer clinic, I’d made peace with dying. And I still feel that peace.
But if I’m going to die, I’m glad it will be someplace beautiful with my wife and daughter. It’s really all anyone could hope for when their time comes.
And this might be my time.