As hard as he tried, the sleep wasn’t coming easily for Kevin. He had talked to his wife only a few hours ago and yet something seemed to be weighing heavily on his mind, preventing him from easing into the slumber his tired body needed.
He leaned up on one elbow to look at the digital alarm clock. Groaning, he laid back down and rubbed a hand over his face. He had tried to go to sleep for roughly three hours without any luck. Flipping the covers off his legs, he sat up and grabbed his dark blue robe, jerking at it until his arm found the sleeve.
Quietly he made his way down the back stairs to the kitchen. He decided that maybe a glass of warm milk or a snack may help him to sleep. Keeping the lights off, he padded slowly down the carpeted steps, his hand gripping the rail lightly.
As he got toward the bottom of the stairs, a light was on in the kitchen, lighting the landing. Deciding that someone must have left the light on, Kevin was surprised when he discovered AJ seated alone at the table. He was even more surprised to see a bottle of whiskey on the table and a glass - both empty.
Kevin grabbed the chair opposite of AJ. “Mind if I sit?”
AJ glanced up, his eyes were red rimmed and teary. “Go ahead.”
Neither man spoke for what seemed like an eternity, but finally AJ broke the thick silence, laughing for no reason.
“I was gonna sit here and drink myself until I couldn’t feel anything anymore, but I couldn’t do it......” he paused as his fingers played with the label on the bottle. “I guess I’m a fucking coward.”
Kevin shook his head. “No AJ, you’re not a coward, you would have been a coward if you drank.”
AJ wiped the tears that ran down his cheeks. “Yeah I am.... god, I’m so stupid.”
“J..... beating yourself up isn’t going to help you feel better and you know it.”
Shrugging his shoulders AJ seemed to agree with the older man’s statement. He reached up to the front pocket on his tee shirt and pulled out the pack of Marlboro cigarettes and his lighter. “Guess Nicky won’t kill me if I smoke in his house, would he?”
“No... but Jane might,” Kevin pointed out.
“Jane can blow me,” AJ rasped as he stuck the unlit cigarette between his lips, clicking the lighter open with his free hand.
Kevin frowned as AJ deliberately lit the cigarette, taking a deep drag, the sound of the tobacco burning seemed to linger in his ears. “Hey, that’s not nice to talk about people like that,” he reprimanded.
“I agree, but you see, you’re talking about people and that Jane Carter is lower than road kill as far as I can tell,” AJ commented, blowing the smoke out as he spoke.
“Oh? Why do you think that?”
AJ shook his head. “Don’t you see how fake that woman is? I thought it was obvious.”
“I still don’t see what you’re getting at.”
“God, you really are thick headed........ the woman is fake, she blew off Nick for years only showing up when it counts and now when her son is sick and in the hospital and the media knows about it......boom! Jane Carter shows up.”
“I doubt it’s that way AJ.”
“Christ, you really don’t see it.........think about it, when did Nick ever talk about his mother? He rarely talked about his family doesn’t that account for anything?”
“Maybe he’s a little more private than you know,” Kevin defended.
“Private my ass,” AJ glowered, unscrewing the cap off the bottle. He was stopped by Kevin’s hand ontop of his. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Stopping you from being stupid.”
“I’m not being stupid.....I want to have a drink and I can drink when and where I decide.”
“J, listen to me for once in your life, please? You’ve been to counseling for alcohol addition and we’ve all been so proud of you, Nick included. Drowing your feelings in a bottle of whiskey isn’t going to cure the pain and I know if Nick knew you were planning on this because of him, he’d be really upset. He’s got so many things that are against him right now in his life, don’t add to it AJ, please?”
AJ leaned back in his seat, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “God.....this really sucks man. I wish this shit happened to someone else, not that kid!”
Kevin didn’t answer, he only reached out and placed a firm hand on AJ’s forearm.
“Peachy,” Nick mumbled, smiling slightly.
“Well your chart said you’ve been doing pretty good today, no vomiting or nausea complaints?”
“Same ole same ole,” came the quiet reply.
The doctor peered at her patient over the tops of her reading glasses. “Nausea about the same then?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“He hasn’t gotten sick at all today, he must be doing pretty good with the chemo,” Jane noted as she smiled down at Nick.
The doctor placed the chart on the bed and walked over to the sink to wash her hands. “Nickolas is a tough cookie,” she said as she dried her hands off with a paper towel. “Now, I’m going to check your incisions on your abdomen, is it okay if I look or would you like your mother out of the room?”
Nick looked over at her mother. “She’s okay.”
Dr. Andersen pulled back the blankets and then lifted the side of Nick’s gown. His stomach was still very distended and discolored from the surgery. “Have you been passing gas yet?”
Nick’s face turned a shade of crimson after the doctor asked him that question.
“Oh, there’s no need to be embarrassed by that question, we all do it,” the doctor stated with a wry smile.
“I think so,” Nick mumbled, his face still reddened.
“What did you say?”
Nick cleared his throat and spoke up this time, “Yes.”
“That’s good, I hear your bowels are sounding active so that is a good sign,” the doctor noted after she lifted the steoscope from his stomach.
Nick wanted to sink under the covers. Having a doctor, no less a woman discussing private things like gas and bowel sounds in front of his mother was more than he could stand. Thankfully, she changed the subject.
“I’m thinking since you’re making such excellent progress, tomorrow we will have you sitting up in a chair and maybe walking a little bit.”
“S-so soon? I’m still sore,” Nick stammered.
“The quicker you get up and around, the better you’ll feel.”
“I can’t wait until you’re able to get up and walk around Nick,” Jane gushed. “You’re doing so much better than what they expected, right doctor?”
“Well, he seems to be making good progress, yes,” the doctor agreed.
“Other than being tired and pale, I would have a hard time believing you’re sick, Nick,” his mother smiled as she rubbed his shoulder.
Nick placed a thin smile on his face. He knew what she was saying outloud was more for her benefit than anyone’s. He could tell the moment he saw her face what she saw when she looked at him. It hurt him knowing that he made people upset and uncomfortable when they caught a glimpse of him.
Dr. Andersen could see that her patient was deep in thought. “Is something wrong Nickolas?”
At first he shook his head, afraid to let on his feelings, but quickly changed his mind. “My stomach is really starting to bother me, it feels weird.”
“Did you know you’ve been hooked up to your feeding IV all this time?”
Nick jerked his head over to the direction the doctor was pointing at. To his surprise, he saw a bag that was just about empty and a long line snaking down the pole going under the edge of his blankets.
“Probably the feeling you’re having is something you haven’t experienced for quite sometime, the feeling of actually being full.”
Nick rubbed his face with an open hand. “Yeah.... I guess.”
“The nurse told me that you will be doing this on your own pretty soon, I still can’t believe that one,” Jane commented as if it was something she was proud of.
Nick shut out the notion of him hooking himself up to a liquid pouch on a daily basis to keep alive. This whole cancer thing had gotten way out of hand, he decided. Two years ago, everyone was making comments about his weight, calling him fatty, chubby, chunky and lard ass. If he could take those people back then and transport them into the future, would they have been so quick to judge him back then? He wondered bitterly.
“Nickolas, do you need anything before I leave for the night?”
“My stomach really doesn’t feel good.”
“I’ll put an order in for something for your nausea. You have a good night’s rest, okay and I’ll see you in the morning, goodnight Mrs. Carter.” With that, the older woman left the room.
“Wow Nicky, isn’t that wonderful? You get to sit up out of bed tomorrow and maybe even walk!”
Nick didn’t answer his mother, he barely managed to smile. His stomach was bothering him so much it was draining all of his energy.
Jane had been curled up on the pull out mattress that the hospital supplied for her so that she could spend the night with Nick. The nurse had been in and out during the first few hours after they had turned the lights out; checking the IV’s and checking Nick’s vitals among other things, so her sleep had been anything but peaceful. Nick somehow seemed to be immune to all the interruptions, soft snoring sounds were coming from his bed.
As she laid in the darkness with only the dim light from the hall filtering through the open doorway, she kept thinking about how well Nick seemed to her. She had been preparing herself for the worse after she had read up on all the horror stories and nightmares about chemotherapy and what it can do to a person’s body. Granted, she was scared when she first saw how Nick looked after surgery; so thin and pale and all of his blonde hair gone.
She cried so hard that night. She had never felt so scared in all of her life. Her oldest son was so sick and she feared she was losing him that day when she saw him after only being away for a few months after he told them about the cancer.
But now he was doing much better and he would be walking sometime in the morning. Jane could feel the happiness in her heart. Her baby was going to beat this.
She was slowly drifting off to sleep, visions of Nick during happier times when he was healthy edging into her mind. He was smiling and laughing, teasing his siblings and just being the prankster he had always been.
His laughter grew louder and louder and then suddenly it wasn’t laughter anymore, it was gagging.
Gagging?
Jane jerked awake trying to leave the sounds of her dream behind her, but when she awoke, she realized that the gagging wasn’t in her dreams.
”NICK!” she gasped, stumbling toward the bed, nearly knocking over the IV poles in the process. ”NICKY! OH GOD...WHAT DO I DO? SHOULD I GET A NURSE?”
Nick could only gasp, not able to catch his breath with the bought of dry heaves his body was wracked with. He reached out and grasped the bed rail, his eyes watering, blurring his vision.
Jane went into a full panic, running out into the hall after she hit Nick’s nurse call button. ”HE NEEDS HELP IN HERE! HE NEEDS HELP NOW!”
A group of three nurses rushed down the hall toward the screaming Jane Carter. As they entered the room, one of the women quickly flipped on the overhead light, finding Nick curled over, small amounts of vomit on his sheets and down the front of his hospital gown.
Nick couldn’t speak, he was still wretching so hard that his body convulsed with each new course of throwing up. To make matters worse, something else had happened during this wave of vomiting. To add insult to injury, his bowels decided to let go with a bout of diarrhea that he had no way of stopping.
He felt miserable and he just plain wished he could die. Life was starting to suck more and more.
Once Nick had seemed to calm down with his vomiting, one of the nurses suggested that she call Dr. Andersen to authorize another medication to calm his nausea down. Another nurse quickly left the room and reappeared with a armful of linens and towels.
”He shouldn’t be getting this sick! Why aren’t you doing more for him? What is going on that he is throwing up?” Jane demanded as she watched the calm attitude that the nurses were displaying.
As awful as Nick felt, he didn’t have the strenght or the will to tell his mother to calm down. He felt more embarrassement than anything else. His bed smelled foul and as he laid in it he wished that he could just die and be spared the further embarrassment of being cleaned up like an infant.
“Mrs. Carter, you need to calm down, we’re doing all that we can for Nick and you getting adgitated isn’t helping him any. If you’d like, you can go down to the waiting room while we take care of Nick,” a nurse quietly suggested.
“N-no, I’m fine, I just don’t understand why he is so sick,” Jane stated as she folded her arms across her chest.
“Unfortunately, this is one of the side effects of chemotherapy and Nick got a good dose of it tonight and I suspect there will be more of this for awhile. We’re going clean him up and make him a little more comfortable and hopefully get him back to sleep after his tummy settles.”
Nick groaned inwardly. They were talking in front of him as if he were a small child. He wanted to protest and say he could do this himself, but he was too weak to even open his mouth. The bought of nausea had physically drained his body of all energy.
“Nick, is alright if we clean you up or would you like a male nurse and orderly to do it?”
Nick wished that Brian was here, he would have been his first and only choice but all he could do was mumble the words “anyone is fine.”
He prayed that this would be over soon.
