Page 13 of Write Me For You
Jesse
Six days later…
I rolled over in bed just in time to grab the hospital-is sued bucket beside me.
I coughed as my body tried in vain to bring up whatever was left in my stomach—but there wasn’t anything.
Four days of the trial’s super-powerful chemo cocktail had not been simply uncomfortable; it had been brutal.
Sweat beaded on my forehead, and my throat felt so dry, I could barely swallow.
A knock sounded on my suite’s door, and Susan, my nurse, came through. She had a cold, damp cloth and a fresh jug of water in her hands. “How are you doing, sweetie?” she asked. Susan had been my savior these past few days.
I hadn’t seen anyone for five days since we’d been sent to our rooms for treatment.
I had sat in bed and binged watched TV shows while receiving the chemo through the IV next to my bed.
The immunotherapy started in a few days’ time, right now we were on rest and I was so thankful that the chemo part of phase one was over.
I had increasingly felt worse each day. Today, I felt completely broken.
But I was getting antsy being in this room alone.
Everyone except for me had family with them to help them through.
I wasn’t bitter about it in the slightest, and I knew my mom would be here if she could be, but I was…
I was lonely . If it wasn’t for Susan, I had no doubts that the dark thoughts that were trying to break through would have won.
Dr. Duncan had kept me on my antidepressants, and I was trying to be positive—I really was.
But when your health declined, it was hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
I coughed one more time into the bucket, then sat up. “I’m just peachy. Never felt better,” I said to Susan and gave her a wink.
She rolled her eyes, used to my antics by now, but I was also sure she saw straight through them. She helped me into a sitting position and pressed the cold cloth to my forehead.
“That feels amazing,” I said, as I prayed that my stomach would calm just for an hour so I could try and sleep. I hadn’t slept well the past couple of days.
“Take a sip,” Susan said and handed me a glass with a straw.
I sipped the water, and it felt perfect as it soothed my scratchy throat and dry tongue.
She handed me a small cup of meds, and I knocked that cocktail back and winced as I fought to make them go down.
“There was an anti-nausea pill in there too. Hopefully that’ll kick in and give you some relief.
” Susan retrieved the dirty sick bucket like the saint she was and went into the bathroom.
As she hummed cleaning out the bucket, tears pricked behind my eyelids.
God, I missed my mom. My mom would hum as she cleaned too.
She’d read her book at my bedside while I recovered from the latest round of chemo.
I missed my little sisters clamoring for my attention.
I closed my eyes and fought back the sinking emotions again.
I couldn’t break. I couldn’t . But I was a people person, and I was struggling with all this time alone.
One thing I didn’t want was time to dwell and think about what would happen if this trial didn’t work.
Nothing good came from all that time in my own head. And I needed this treatment to work.
It had to.
Susan came out of the bathroom and a lump thickened in my throat. As if she could see me fighting back my sudden emotion, she laid her hand on my shoulder. “You’re doing amazing, Jesse. You’re being so strong.”
“Yeah?” I croaked, still unable to open my eyes.
A stray tear fell anyway. I felt it escape the corner of my right eye, and the familiar texture of leather was suddenly under my hand.
I tried to smile in appreciation, knowing Susan had given me my football.
I blinked my eyes open and straightened my shoulders.
As I met Susan’s gaze, she said, “Yes.”
The sound of my phone vibrating on the bedside table pulled my attention. When a picture of me, my mom and two sisters filled the screen, the heaviness on my chest lifted like a balloon.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Susan said, tapping my hand. “Buzz if you need me.”
“Thank you,” I said, as I quickly wiped my eyes and accepted the video call.
“Jesse!” my sister Emily greeted. Her blond hair looked lighter than it did a week ago when I left McIntyre.
“Hey, baby girl,” I said, just as Emily screeched at being pushed aside, and my youngest sister’s face filled the screen.
“Jesse!” Lucy said. “I’ve been making you a card?—”
“Shh!” Emily hissed. “That was meant to be a secret!”
“Oh…yeah,” Lucy said, grimacing. “Oh well!”
I laughed, the sound doing more for my weak body than the meds had just done. The phone was pulled away from the ankle biters and my mom’s face came into view. The minute she saw me, her smile fell.
“You’re in pain,” she said, knowing exactly how to read me like only mothers can.
“I’m okay,” I said. It was true. Seeing my family had immediately lifted my mood. They made me feel stronger. Made me remember why I was here. I owed my mom so much.
“Baby…” my mom said, and I saw tears fill her eyes. “I wish I could be there. Maybe…” She trailed off, and I could see she was thinking something through in her head.
“No,” I said, and she met my eyes. “I’m okay. You can’t lose your job.” I hated the way her bottom lip trembled. I couldn’t imagine what this was like for her. I knew she thought she’d let me down by not coming to the ranch, but that just wasn’t true.
She nodded, but I could see guilt plastered all over her face, along with exhaustion and stress. I hated what my illness and absence was doing to her.
“Y’all are still coming next weekend, right?” I asked.
Mom finally let in a smile and said, “Yes.” My sisters were whisper-fighting in the background. Mom shook her head at them and said loudly, “And we are absolutely not surprising you with homemade cards!”
“Or homemade chocolate chip cookies!” Lucy shouted, and I couldn’t hold back the burst of laughter that spilled out of me as Emily scolded her.
“Lucy! You just told him again!”
“Oops!” Lucy said, then I heard them running away and caught the familiar sound of the back door being opened and closed. They’d be running to their tree house. I could see it all so clearly in my head, and the homesickness swept in thick and fast.
Mom moved to sit on our well-worn couch and said, “Now tell me how you’re really feeling.”
I settled back in my bed and realized I still had the cold cloth on my forehead.
I pulled it away and placed it on my bedside table.
“It’s rough,” I said. I wanted to protect her, but I also needed to be honest with someone.
“This new chemo and the new drug therapy they’ve got us on… ” I shook my head. “But if it works?—”
“ When ,” my mom said.
I smirked at her tenacity. “ When it works, it’ll have all been worth it.”
Mom was quiet for a few moments, just staring at me. “And how are you, in yourself?” Her eyes seemed to bore into my soul. “How are you coping with everything?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m okay. Just trying to keep positive.”
She stared at me a touch too long, clearly trying to see if I was lying.
“I promise, Mom. I’m doing okay emotionally at the moment. I swear I’ll tell you if I’m not.”
“Okay,” she said, finally satisfied. “I’m so proud of you, Jesse. I don’t think you’ll ever realize how much. You’ve been through so much. Too much.” Her bottom lip trembled.
“Mom,” I said, fighting back my own grief. “I can’t wait to see y’all.” My voice was breaking, but Mom didn’t mention it. She just let me show my emotion. Nothing good came from me bottling it up.
“I’m counting the days until our visit,” she said. “How are your friends? Chris and Emma?”
“The same, really. Haven’t seen them in a few days. The treatment is hitting us all pretty hard.” She nodded, then said, “And June?” There was a different inflection to her voice when she mentioned June.
I raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
Mom laughed. “Jesse, I know when my boy has met a pretty girl, and I can tell when he likes her as more than a friend.”
“Great place to pick up a girl, Mom. A hospital.”
“Love finds us in strange places, Jesse,” she said, a singsong note to her voice. “It can sweep in hard and fast.”
Her comment gave me permission to think of June.
Hell, who was I kidding? I’d been thinking of her nonstop for the past several days.
I’d heard murmured conversations through our shared wall and the sound of her throwing up as much as me.
I desperately wanted to go next door and sit with her each afternoon when our chemo infusions were done.
It gave me strength. I missed company, and it was her company that I was particularly craving.
And I really liked holding her hand.
But I hadn’t dared go and see her. I was ballsy by nature but would never intrude on someone when they were on the ropes.
“June is…” I shrugged, unable to find words. “I don’t know. Different, I guess?” I felt my lips curl into a smile. “She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”
“I can’t wait to meet her, Jess,” Mom said.
“She sounds lovely.” Then she changed the subject.
“Me and the girls went to the game last night.” A pang of jealousy hit me.
I gripped my football tighter to my side.
“The announcer talked about you, and all your friends and teachers were asking how you were and wishing you the best. Coach most of all. The whole stadium prayed for you.”
“Yeah?” I asked.
Mom nodded. “Coach said he sent you the game film for you to watch.” I hadn’t checked my email yet, so I’d be sure to later.
“They’re counting the days until you come home,” Mom said, full of hope, and it was the lift I needed.
She lowered her voice, then added, “And the stand-in QB was no match for you.”
I chuckled. “You have to say that.”