Chapter Eighteen #2
‘As I’ve explained, radiation therapy will be our best course of action,’ Dr Thompson began, her voice steadily reassuring. ‘And chemotherapy will be the extra oomph needed to fight the cancer tooth and nail.’
Dr Thompson then delved into the intricate details of chemotherapy and radiation — the names foreign and distant like stars in the night sky. Yet Zara absorbed them all, turning each one over in her mind like smooth pebbles plucked from the shore.
‘How rough is the treatment, on my body, I mean?’ Zara’s words were barely audible over the deafening roar of fear in her head.
‘It will be rough, yes,’ Dr Thompson admitted, ‘but we have ways to manage the side effects, and we’ll adjust everything as needed.’
Jay squeezed her hand tighter, his piercing blue eyes unwavering. ‘I’ll be with you every step of the way, my love,’ he vowed, his words carrying the weight of a soul-deep promise.
For the next half an hour, Dr Thompson patiently addressed each question and concern with calmness, her compassion serving as a gentle wind, propelling them forward on this treacherous journey.
When they stood to leave the increasingly suffocating confines of the doctor’s office, Zara felt the gravity of her diagnosis rooting her to the spot.
But she was determined to move, and believe, and fight.
It took a moment for her legs to obey and carry her back into the world where life and death were in constant flux.
Having sat patiently in the waiting room, Lily and Amy stood in unison as she and Jay emerged.
Hooking an arm into hers, Lily walked closely beside her. ‘Remember how you taught us to dive under the waves instead of letting them crash over us, Mum?’ she whispered, her breath warm against Zara’s ear.
Zara nodded while wishing her gorgeous little grandchildren could be here, too, although she also didn’t want them to bear witness to such human hardship.
Amy had left them happily visiting with their Aunty Jasmine, Mark’s daughter, who had become Amy’s closest friend after she came to live with Mark and Suzanne as a teenager.
‘We’ll dive together now, deep and strong.’ Lily’s steady voice defied her usually restless spirit.
‘Damn straight we will,’ Amy added as they stepped out of the hospital, and into bright sunshine.
Blinking back tears, Zara paused on the footpath and nodded. ‘I know I tell you both all the time, but geez I love you, so very much, with all my heart, and then some.’
‘Ditto to that,’ Jay affirmed with a fatherly nod.
Wrapping their arms around one another, they formed a circle of strength as the power of their collective spirits filled Zara like a sail catching the wind.
Later that evening, the warm, comforting aroma of roasted garlic and thyme wafted through the Maverick household, wrapping around Zara like a familiar embrace.
She settled into her seat at the formal dining table, surrounded by the gentle clinking of cutlery on porcelain plates and the soft murmurs of her family’s conversation.
This simple act of sharing a meal together gave her a sense of normalcy, their family roots intertwined like the branches of the ancient gum trees in their backyard.
‘Jay, this is absolutely delicious,’ Zara exclaimed with a genuine smile, savouring each bite of the expertly prepared herb-crusted chicken. ‘As always.’ The flavours danced on her tongue, a symphony of deliciousness that spoke of simple home comforts.
‘Only the best for my warrior woman,’ Jay replied, his voice filled with his usual unwavering support.
Glancing around the table at her daughters’ faces, etched with concern but shining with inherited strength, Zara took a deep breath.
‘Listen here, you lot,’ she began, her voice surprisingly steady, ‘I know the next little while will be difficult, but there’s some things that cancer can never touch, and that’s our love, and our memories.
’ She bit back a sob. ‘No matter what happens, those beautiful things will endure. Forever.’
Her words were met with nods and silent understanding as they raised their glasses in a toast, the clinking sound ringing out like a clear chime of solidarity that reached beyond the walls of their home.
‘Here’s to fighting against all odds,’ Zara proclaimed.
‘Amen to that,’ Jay echoed.
* * *
The blinding white walls of the hospital room seemed to drain the colour from Zara’s world, but her fighting spirit remained untouched. She turned to where a door opened, and Dr Thompson entered with a folder tucked securely under her arm, her soft expression, as always, a calming presence.
‘Zara, Jay,’ she greeted them, taking a seat beside the bed with a poised yet empathetic posture.
‘We have devised a comprehensive treatment plan. It will be aggressive, but so is the cancer. We’re going to attack it with everything we’ve got.
’ She paused for a moment, allowing this to sink in.
‘As I explained previously, the side effects will be difficult,’ she continued, her voice weighted.
‘Fatigue, nausea, changes in appetite, and hair loss are among the most common. But we have various support systems and therapies to help manage this as much as possible.’
As she and Jay listened intently, Zara felt the weight of each word, but she fastened herself to the glimmer of buoyant hope nestled deep within her core as she reached for her devoted husband’s hand.
‘Thank you for explaining it all again, Dr Thompson,’ she affirmed with crystal-clear determination, meeting the oncologist’s gaze head-on despite the turmoil swirling beneath her surface.
‘I’m ready to fight this horrible thing with all I have, and by some miracle, hopefully beat it. ’
‘Good to hear, Zara, because your unwavering resolve is your strongest ally,’ Dr Thompson acknowledged with a warm smile. ‘As is your wonderful husband, too, I might add.’ Her gaze briefly met with Jay’s. ‘He’s a diamond in this rough, this one.’
‘Indeed, he is. I’m a very lucky woman, having him by my side,’ Zara replied, a determined glint in her eyes. ‘With him and my two beautiful daughters as my support team, I know I’ll stand strong.’
‘Yes, that’s the spirit, Zara.’ Dr Thompson looked from one to the other with a smile.
‘You two really are the perfect example of unconditional love.’ There was a slight waver in her usually strong voice.
‘Anyhow,’ she said after she cleared her throat, ‘I’ll leave you in the nurses’ capable hands and catch you both a bit later on. ’
Zara smiled at her doctor as she exited, then looked to the charts and graphs that now plotted the course of her life for the next week of hospitalisation.
Taking a deep breath as she sunk into her bed, the room suddenly felt smaller, but not suffocating, like a protective shell, sheltering life amid the vastness of diagnosis and treatment.
As did Jay’s presence, his unwavering love lifting her weary spirit, reminding her that every day lived with him was a victory.
* * *
After five days of unchanging white walls and beeping machines, along with the debilitating nausea and weakness caused by the treatment, Zara refused to let her spirit fade.
The scent of the hospital, a mix of disinfectant and lemon, lingered heavily in the air as she lay propped up in her bed while the monotonous beeping of the monitor beside her acted as an unwavering reminder of her current state.
She looked to the vibrant bouquet of wildflowers on the windowsill, gifted by Suz and Mark, and a soft smile tugged at her cracked lips.
The blossoms’ bold colours stood out against the stark white walls in a small rebellion against the clinical environment.
Alongside her, as he always was, Jay slept on the reclining single chair, the blanket pulled up to his chin.
Having been up with her for most of the night, he needed the rest. Bless him.
Tracing her fingers over the soft fabric of her green blanket, memories of calmer times washed over her.
She and her Jay had lived a full life, that was for sure.
There wasn’t a day she regretted.
Not a single one.
Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to drift into memories that took her to other places, other times.
There were so many happy reminiscences, she found it impossible to pick a favourite.
She was pleasantly lost in her remembered world when a creaking door broke through her thoughts.
Blinking open sleep-heavy eyes, she was greeted by the cherubic faces of her two grandchildren, followed by their mother.
Both bursting with sunshine-filled energy and innocent love, they bounded into the room clutching handmade cards decorated with glitter and crayon scribbles.
The eldest by two years to his three-year-old sister, Ava, sandy-haired Jack proudly held up his creation and exclaimed, ‘We made these for you, Nanna!’
Overwhelmed with emotion, Zara kissed Amy hello then whispered, ‘My sweet darlings, these cards are works of art.’ She carefully examined every uneven line, smiling at how each smudge spoke of the immense effort put in.
Now wide awake, Jay sat up and made space for Amy to cuddle in beside him — even at twenty-nine years old, she was still Daddy’s little girl.
At Zara’s patted invitation, Jack and Ava eagerly climbed up and onto the bed, both cuddling into her, their giggles filling the room like rays of bright sunlight through a canopy of leaves.
‘So, you two, I’d love for you to tell me all about playgroup,’ Zara urged with a smile, momentarily forgetting her fatigue as they excitedly shared tales of playground adventures and bright-eyed new discoveries.
Entertained by such childlike innocence, Zara’s world shrank to this singular moment — her heart encapsulated in the bubble of their unconditional love.