What's Left of Me
Page 21
When Monday comes, I finally feel as if I’m able to leave my room. I only make it halfway down the stairs when I need to stop and sit on the staircase. I can’t stand that only walking ten feet makes me feel like I’ve just run a mile.
“Hey, you. You need some help?” Jason asks.
“Oh, no. I got it.” And I do. I just don’t know how long it will take me to make it to the couch that has been calling my name since the moment I stepped out of my bedroom.
“Okay. Well… I’ll just be over there.” He points behind him where the staircase opens to the living room. “If you need me.”
“Thanks.”
To the normal person, waking up on Mondays can suck. Let’s face it: who enjoys having to wake up early on a Monday to start your week over again? For me, it is something I’ve missed. I swear, when I beat this cancer I will never complain about it ever again. Why? Because it means I’m healthy. It means that it is a day other than Saturday. It means I have something to do, or somewhere else to be, other than at home, sick and feeling helpless.
After what feels like twenty minutes of just sitting on the steps, Jason finally walks over and helps me the rest of the way down.
“Thank you,” I say as he helps me to the couch.
“No problem. What good would these muscles be if not to sweep pretty ladies off their feet?”
I laugh. I love Jason’s sense of humor and his ability to lighten any mood. My sister did well.
“Hey you. Good morning,” Genna says, walking in with a cup of coffee. “Do you want some coffee?”
“Please.”
“Coming right up.”
Looking at Jason, I ask, “What time are you heading in this morning?”
“A little later. Looks like Genna got called in to sub today, so I’ll be taking you to your lab appointment. Then I’ll head in. Parker is working my morning schedule into his.”
“Oh… That’s nice of you … and him.” Not only is Parker extremely good-looking, smart, and great in bed, he’s thoughtful too. Of course he is.
“Here you are.” Genna hands me the perfect cup of coffee.
I take a small sip and savor the hot, sweet, vanilla taste. It’s my first cup of coffee since last Wednesday, and man, does it tastes like heaven.
“Sorry I can’t stay home today. I feel awful, but I got called in. I might have to go in tomorrow too.”
“Don’t worry about it. I might just go hang at the office today after my lab draw.”
“Really?” they both ask at the same time.
“Well, I mean, I just thought it would give me something to do. I’m tired, but I really just need to get out. I don’t feel sick, so maybe I can just do some light desk work or something?” Maybe see Parker? “Nothing big,” I continue, “Just something I can do at my own pace in your office?” Like look at Parker? Wait … I don’t want to look at Parker. Do I? Yes, I do! “If that’s okay, Jason?” I give him a big toothy grin like a twelve year old.
“Yeah, I mean, sure. That would be great. You can definitely sit in my office. It’s quiet and private. No one will bother you. I have a few small items I definitely need help with.”
“Thanks.”
“Dre, are you sure you feel okay?” Genna asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Really.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince her or myself, but I need to do something. I hate feeling defenseless. I want to be strong.
If I show it, then maybe I’ll feel it.
I have a quick lab appointment to check my white blood count, which comes back borderline good. Usually this is done right before your chemo treatment, but Dr. Olson requested I have one done five days after. She also wants my hemoglobin and iron checked, which come back okay. The nurse makes a call to Dr. Olson to double-check the numbers and to get an order for some medication to try before my next round of chemo to help with the nausea. She also got an order for something to swish in my mouth for the canker sores and to help prevent me from getting thrush—a yeast infection in my mouth. Nasty!
Dr. Olson is okay with my numbers and tells me the only time I’ll need lab draws again will be the mornings of each of my next treatments.
While waiting in the car for Jason to pick up my prescriptions, I attempt to apply some makeup. I need to hide the dark circles under my eyes and add a little color to my cheeks. By the time I’m done bringing some life back to my face, Jason is back.
“I called Shannon when I was in the pharmacy. She’s getting some charts together that need to be scanned into the new computer system. I asked if she could get everything hooked up in my office. I only have six appointments this afternoon, and then a small procedure to do, so as soon as I’m done, we’ll head out. Okay?”
“That sounds great. Thanks.”
“Oh, and no need to rush on the charts. Take your time. If you don’t feel up to it, don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
When we arrive at the clinic, Jason walks with me slowly toward his office, even though I tell him multiple times I’ve got it. Shannon calls from behind us that his one o’clock is ready to be seen. I convince him I’ll be okay, so he heads right into the exam room. When I pass by Parker’s office, I can’t help but look inside to see if he is there. When I see that the office is empty I find myself a little disappointed. As I turn my head away from the office and take a step down the hall, I smack right into a rock-hard chest, which makes me grunt in the most unflattering way possible.
“Hey, you. You need some help?” Jason asks.
“Oh, no. I got it.” And I do. I just don’t know how long it will take me to make it to the couch that has been calling my name since the moment I stepped out of my bedroom.
“Okay. Well… I’ll just be over there.” He points behind him where the staircase opens to the living room. “If you need me.”
“Thanks.”
To the normal person, waking up on Mondays can suck. Let’s face it: who enjoys having to wake up early on a Monday to start your week over again? For me, it is something I’ve missed. I swear, when I beat this cancer I will never complain about it ever again. Why? Because it means I’m healthy. It means that it is a day other than Saturday. It means I have something to do, or somewhere else to be, other than at home, sick and feeling helpless.
After what feels like twenty minutes of just sitting on the steps, Jason finally walks over and helps me the rest of the way down.
“Thank you,” I say as he helps me to the couch.
“No problem. What good would these muscles be if not to sweep pretty ladies off their feet?”
I laugh. I love Jason’s sense of humor and his ability to lighten any mood. My sister did well.
“Hey you. Good morning,” Genna says, walking in with a cup of coffee. “Do you want some coffee?”
“Please.”
“Coming right up.”
Looking at Jason, I ask, “What time are you heading in this morning?”
“A little later. Looks like Genna got called in to sub today, so I’ll be taking you to your lab appointment. Then I’ll head in. Parker is working my morning schedule into his.”
“Oh… That’s nice of you … and him.” Not only is Parker extremely good-looking, smart, and great in bed, he’s thoughtful too. Of course he is.
“Here you are.” Genna hands me the perfect cup of coffee.
I take a small sip and savor the hot, sweet, vanilla taste. It’s my first cup of coffee since last Wednesday, and man, does it tastes like heaven.
“Sorry I can’t stay home today. I feel awful, but I got called in. I might have to go in tomorrow too.”
“Don’t worry about it. I might just go hang at the office today after my lab draw.”
“Really?” they both ask at the same time.
“Well, I mean, I just thought it would give me something to do. I’m tired, but I really just need to get out. I don’t feel sick, so maybe I can just do some light desk work or something?” Maybe see Parker? “Nothing big,” I continue, “Just something I can do at my own pace in your office?” Like look at Parker? Wait … I don’t want to look at Parker. Do I? Yes, I do! “If that’s okay, Jason?” I give him a big toothy grin like a twelve year old.
“Yeah, I mean, sure. That would be great. You can definitely sit in my office. It’s quiet and private. No one will bother you. I have a few small items I definitely need help with.”
“Thanks.”
“Dre, are you sure you feel okay?” Genna asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Really.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince her or myself, but I need to do something. I hate feeling defenseless. I want to be strong.
If I show it, then maybe I’ll feel it.
I have a quick lab appointment to check my white blood count, which comes back borderline good. Usually this is done right before your chemo treatment, but Dr. Olson requested I have one done five days after. She also wants my hemoglobin and iron checked, which come back okay. The nurse makes a call to Dr. Olson to double-check the numbers and to get an order for some medication to try before my next round of chemo to help with the nausea. She also got an order for something to swish in my mouth for the canker sores and to help prevent me from getting thrush—a yeast infection in my mouth. Nasty!
Dr. Olson is okay with my numbers and tells me the only time I’ll need lab draws again will be the mornings of each of my next treatments.
While waiting in the car for Jason to pick up my prescriptions, I attempt to apply some makeup. I need to hide the dark circles under my eyes and add a little color to my cheeks. By the time I’m done bringing some life back to my face, Jason is back.
“I called Shannon when I was in the pharmacy. She’s getting some charts together that need to be scanned into the new computer system. I asked if she could get everything hooked up in my office. I only have six appointments this afternoon, and then a small procedure to do, so as soon as I’m done, we’ll head out. Okay?”
“That sounds great. Thanks.”
“Oh, and no need to rush on the charts. Take your time. If you don’t feel up to it, don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
When we arrive at the clinic, Jason walks with me slowly toward his office, even though I tell him multiple times I’ve got it. Shannon calls from behind us that his one o’clock is ready to be seen. I convince him I’ll be okay, so he heads right into the exam room. When I pass by Parker’s office, I can’t help but look inside to see if he is there. When I see that the office is empty I find myself a little disappointed. As I turn my head away from the office and take a step down the hall, I smack right into a rock-hard chest, which makes me grunt in the most unflattering way possible.
