42. Cameron
Cameron
Coming back to New York for my residency was supposed to be a fresh start.
And it was. For a while, I gave this hospital a new purpose in my mind.
I started to make new memories here to replace any of the bad ones.
Instead of being a sick kid here, it became my work, the place where I walked the halls in a white coat, where I comforted parents, cracked jokes with patients, and strategized treatments with colleagues.
But now? Now, it’s a place I’m fighting to get out of again. A place I’m stuck in, even when I’m not in-patient.
I glance at the to-go cup in my hand, the warmth of the hot chocolate seeping through my fingers. It doesn’t taste as good as when Gabrielle is sharing one with me, but it’s enough to keep me a little grounded right now. Because the truth is, my mind isn’t in a good place.
My check-up appointment had gone as expected.
More tests. Adjusting my pain meds. More discussions about the transplant.
I should be relieved that they think I have a good shot.
That the chemo has done enough to at least get me to the transplant stage.
But it doesn’t change the fact that they still haven’t found a match.
Sometimes it just takes a while, they said, like I don’t already know how this all goes.
The thing is—I don’t have a while. My body isn’t as strong as it used to be.
And sometimes, when I wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck, I wonder if I’m strong enough to do it this time around.
When I was younger, my body could put up more of a fight.
Now, after it’s already been through this before, my body is done putting up a fight. It doesn’t want to anymore.
Finishing up my appointment, I’m supposed to be heading back home, but—I don’t want to go home—not yet. I just need something to bring my spirits back up a little. Instead, I find myself on the peds oncology floor.
The second I step out of the elevator, it’s like muscle memory. The familiar hum of machines, the distant sounds of cartoons playing on TVs, and the quiet murmurs of nurses moving in and out of each room. It’s strange, being here without a purpose. Without a white coat.
I stop by a few patient rooms, saying hi to the kids I’ve worked with, cracking jokes, pretending like I’m not fighting the same battle they are now.
It’s not until I find Maya’s room that I finally slow down. She’s curled up in her hospital bed, wearing a pink headscarf covered in cartoon pandas, and her parents perk up when they see me, their tired smiles warming a little.
“Dr. Hayes!” Maya beams, sitting up straighter.
“Hey, superstar,” I say, stepping inside. “How’s my favorite seven-year-old doing today?”
Her mom chuckles. “She’s been giving the nurses a hard time, so I’d say she’s doing just fine.”
“Good,” I smirk. “Keep ‘em on their toes.”
Maya eyes the cup in my hand. “Are you drinking hot chocolate without me?”
I hold it up. “Listen, I didn’t know if you were in the mood, and I wasn’t about to risk being yelled at if you weren’t.”
She huffs. “You should’ve risked it.”
I grin, then settle into the chair beside her bed. “I’ll make it up to you. What’s the going rate for forgiveness these days?”
Maya leans back, crossing her arms dramatically. “One game of Uno.”
I shake my head. “Maya, I can’t keep letting you destroy my dignity like this.”
“You don’t let me,” she corrects. “You just suck at Uno.”
Her parents laugh, and before I know it, I’m shuffling a deck of cards and settling in.
It’s easy, falling into this. Letting the world outside this room disappear for a little while. I don’t think about the transplant, or the match I still don’t have, or how my body feels like it’s constantly telling me to give in. I just focus on Maya absolutely annihilating me in Uno.
Over an hour passes before I hear footsteps at the door.
“Alright, I know I’m exhausted, but I swear I just saw a ghost.”
I look up to find Wes standing there, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Maya grins. “He’s not a ghost, just a bad Uno player.”
Wes snorts. “That tracks.”
I sigh, setting my cards down. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here,” he says, raising a brow. “The real question is, what are you doing here?”
I exhale, rubbing the back of my neck. “Had my appointment earlier, just needed to clear my head after. Figured I’d visit some of the kids, check in on you, maybe assess your bedside manner since I haven’t been here to keep you in check.”
Wes snorts. “I’m fantastic with the kids.”
Maya tilts her head. “Ehh…you’re okay.”
I burst out laughing as Wes places a hand over his heart in mock offense. “You wound me.”
“I should get going, superstar,” I tell her, patting her little hand. “But next time…I will win.”
She smirks up at me. “Yeah right.”
I stand and shake my head as Wes and I step into the hall.
He eyes me as soon as it’s just us two. “How’d the appointment go?”
I sigh, taking a sip of my now-cold hot chocolate. “Same as always. Pain management adjustments, more blood work, and still waiting on a match.”
“And physically?”
I hesitate before answering, “Tired. Worn down.”
He studies me for a beat. “And mentally?”
I glance at him, then away. “A little darker than normal.”
Wes doesn’t say anything right away. He just walks with me toward the break room, where we both settle onto the couch.
He rubs his hands together, looking up at me seriously. “Look, man…I know this is hell. I know it’s unfair. But you can’t let your head take you out before your body does. You have to hold on.”
I let out a slow breath, leaning back. “Some days, it feels like I’m losing too much ground.”
He nods, understanding. “That’s a normal part of this road, you know that. But you’re still here. You’re still fighting. And that means you haven’t lost.”
I stare at my cup, feeling the weight of his words.
After a beat, Wes leans back, exhaling. “You know, you could have just texted me if you wanted to hang out. But no, you had to make it dramatic and show up at my job like some needy girlfriend.”
I laugh. “You love me.”
“I tolerate you.”
We sit there for a few minutes, comfortable in the silence.
Finally, Wes checks his watch, standing up. “I gotta get back, but I’ll see you in a couple of days when I’m off, okay?” He levels me with a look. “I need you to keep going. Just a little while longer, Cam.”
I swallow hard, nodding.
As he walks past me, he pats my shoulder. “And for the love of God, stop getting demolished in Uno. You’re starting to embarrass me. I still have to call you my best friend around here.”
I roll my eyes, watching as he disappears down the hall.
I’m thankful that momentarily, the darkness doesn’t feel quite as heavy.