What's Left of Me
Page 81
“Where do you get off telling me that? You don’t know! You haven’t felt what I am feeling.”
“You’re completely right, but I do know you didn’t mean anything you said. God, Aundrea, think of everyone around you.”
“Don’t you dare say anything more. Don’t you dare say that to me. I have been thinking of everyone for the last four damn years of my life. I’ve been thinking of only them, so much so that I forgot to think of myself. What I want. I can’t do it anymore, Parker. I am too damn exhausted. I was born to die. I get that. Please, just let me enjoy whatever life I have left instead of counting it down by doctor visits and fear. Besides, I didn’t say no to the damn drugs. All I said was give me time to understand. Let me process it. Don’t sit here and tell me how I should react or what I should and shouldn’t have said.”
We all have an end date. We know we’re going to die. The only question is when. It’s the not knowing—the somedayness—that makes it easy to not think about. It gets thrown to the back of our minds. But when you’re told your end is a lot sooner than you ever imagined, it makes everything clear. Life becomes clearer.
It’s the little details in life that we take for granted. Everything we do is to plan for our future. We buy a certain piece of clothing to wear for a special occasion, or we start saving for our child’s college education before they’ve even had their first birthday. We’re constantly thinking ahead, and not thinking about today. We don’t use our nice china outside of those special holidays, or wear our fancy clothes just because we want to. People simply don’t think about the end.
Well, I do. It’s all I ever think about, and I don’t want to think about it anymore.
“Aundrea.” He gets down on his knees in front of me. “I’m not telling you what to do. But I am begging you, please, for me: get on the damn medication. I know that no matter how hard life gets, it’s amazing to just be here. To be alive. Don’t throw that away. Don’t throw us away. Our life, your life, is just beginning. I want to grow old with you, Aundrea Leigh McCall.”
“I don’t look at this as throwing my life away. I look at is as living my life. I’m right where I want to be. With you.”
“There isn’t anything to think about. Take the medication. We’ll take it day by day. Together. I just got you and I refuse to let you go.”
I’ll get through this. I always do. You have to get through the bad days in order to get to the good ones. This is a bad day. But I know tomorrow, and the days that follow, will be good.
Parker slumps in front of me, burying his head in my lap. His shoulders start to shake, then I hear the quiet sounds of him crying.
“Parker, look at me. I never said I wasn’t going to take the medication. I’m trying to process all this, and it f**king hurts. You have no idea what it feels like to be told that you’ve survived cancer only to be handed a heart condition in return.”
When he looks up, his eyes are shining.
“Aundrea, I will marry you. I will have children with you. I will live a long life with you. You and I will take on this world together. It’s you and me. I will have it no other way. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, which is why I will fight for you until my dying breath.”
“Promise me that after this moment, you will never pressure me regarding any future surgeries or treatments. I am beyond ready to be done. I just want to start living my life with you.”
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me tighter. “I can’t make that promise because I will stop at nothing if it means saving your life. I will give you my own breath, if it means keeping you alive.”
I pull him tighter to me and sob into his shirt. We hold each other all night, talking about our future, making plans, and not looking back.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Parker suggests we get away for a while. I agree, thinking we’ll go up to the north shore for a weekend, but he recommends a week in Florida to meet his family and relax on the beach. It sounds like the perfect getaway, escaping from reality for a while.
Before we leave, I meet with Dr. James to discuss my future schedule in depth and start my new lifelong medications.
My parents become less agitated once I start the drugs, knowing I’m following orders, and they encourage me to visit Parker’s family, but are very clear that I can’t fall in love with Florida and stay there. Jason doesn’t protest when Parker talks about leaving the practice for a week. In fact, he practically pushes him out the door.
“Ready?”
“Huh?” I turn my attention from the airplane window to Parker who is standing in the middle of the aisle. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
He helps me out of my seat and into the aisle, allowing me to stand in front of him. Grabbing our carry-ons, he ushers me forward.
“My parents should be waiting for us at baggage claim.”
Holding hands, we make our way through Palm Beach International airport. When we reach carousel ten, there is an older couple grinning from ear to ear at the sight of Parker. Letting go of my hand, he pulls his mom into a hug, then his dad, who is an—older—spitting image of Parker.
Parker reaches for my hand again. “Mom. Dad. This is Aundrea. Aundrea, this is Vicky, my mom, and George, my dad.”
“Hello,” they both say together. I watch their wide eyes take in Parker’s shaved head. He insists on continuing to shave his head until my hair has fully grown back.
“You’re completely right, but I do know you didn’t mean anything you said. God, Aundrea, think of everyone around you.”
“Don’t you dare say anything more. Don’t you dare say that to me. I have been thinking of everyone for the last four damn years of my life. I’ve been thinking of only them, so much so that I forgot to think of myself. What I want. I can’t do it anymore, Parker. I am too damn exhausted. I was born to die. I get that. Please, just let me enjoy whatever life I have left instead of counting it down by doctor visits and fear. Besides, I didn’t say no to the damn drugs. All I said was give me time to understand. Let me process it. Don’t sit here and tell me how I should react or what I should and shouldn’t have said.”
We all have an end date. We know we’re going to die. The only question is when. It’s the not knowing—the somedayness—that makes it easy to not think about. It gets thrown to the back of our minds. But when you’re told your end is a lot sooner than you ever imagined, it makes everything clear. Life becomes clearer.
It’s the little details in life that we take for granted. Everything we do is to plan for our future. We buy a certain piece of clothing to wear for a special occasion, or we start saving for our child’s college education before they’ve even had their first birthday. We’re constantly thinking ahead, and not thinking about today. We don’t use our nice china outside of those special holidays, or wear our fancy clothes just because we want to. People simply don’t think about the end.
Well, I do. It’s all I ever think about, and I don’t want to think about it anymore.
“Aundrea.” He gets down on his knees in front of me. “I’m not telling you what to do. But I am begging you, please, for me: get on the damn medication. I know that no matter how hard life gets, it’s amazing to just be here. To be alive. Don’t throw that away. Don’t throw us away. Our life, your life, is just beginning. I want to grow old with you, Aundrea Leigh McCall.”
“I don’t look at this as throwing my life away. I look at is as living my life. I’m right where I want to be. With you.”
“There isn’t anything to think about. Take the medication. We’ll take it day by day. Together. I just got you and I refuse to let you go.”
I’ll get through this. I always do. You have to get through the bad days in order to get to the good ones. This is a bad day. But I know tomorrow, and the days that follow, will be good.
Parker slumps in front of me, burying his head in my lap. His shoulders start to shake, then I hear the quiet sounds of him crying.
“Parker, look at me. I never said I wasn’t going to take the medication. I’m trying to process all this, and it f**king hurts. You have no idea what it feels like to be told that you’ve survived cancer only to be handed a heart condition in return.”
When he looks up, his eyes are shining.
“Aundrea, I will marry you. I will have children with you. I will live a long life with you. You and I will take on this world together. It’s you and me. I will have it no other way. I love you more than I have ever loved anyone, which is why I will fight for you until my dying breath.”
“Promise me that after this moment, you will never pressure me regarding any future surgeries or treatments. I am beyond ready to be done. I just want to start living my life with you.”
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me tighter. “I can’t make that promise because I will stop at nothing if it means saving your life. I will give you my own breath, if it means keeping you alive.”
I pull him tighter to me and sob into his shirt. We hold each other all night, talking about our future, making plans, and not looking back.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Parker suggests we get away for a while. I agree, thinking we’ll go up to the north shore for a weekend, but he recommends a week in Florida to meet his family and relax on the beach. It sounds like the perfect getaway, escaping from reality for a while.
Before we leave, I meet with Dr. James to discuss my future schedule in depth and start my new lifelong medications.
My parents become less agitated once I start the drugs, knowing I’m following orders, and they encourage me to visit Parker’s family, but are very clear that I can’t fall in love with Florida and stay there. Jason doesn’t protest when Parker talks about leaving the practice for a week. In fact, he practically pushes him out the door.
“Ready?”
“Huh?” I turn my attention from the airplane window to Parker who is standing in the middle of the aisle. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
He helps me out of my seat and into the aisle, allowing me to stand in front of him. Grabbing our carry-ons, he ushers me forward.
“My parents should be waiting for us at baggage claim.”
Holding hands, we make our way through Palm Beach International airport. When we reach carousel ten, there is an older couple grinning from ear to ear at the sight of Parker. Letting go of my hand, he pulls his mom into a hug, then his dad, who is an—older—spitting image of Parker.
Parker reaches for my hand again. “Mom. Dad. This is Aundrea. Aundrea, this is Vicky, my mom, and George, my dad.”
“Hello,” they both say together. I watch their wide eyes take in Parker’s shaved head. He insists on continuing to shave his head until my hair has fully grown back.
