Now, as he stepped through the doors marked Oncology at Tampa General Hospital, he was returned to the world he had managed to escape for the past two chemo-free weeks, the world of cancer.
Going to the waiting room, he signed in with the receptionist and took a seat, remembering his request to be treated just like any other patient and forced to wait to be seen. Noticing a round-faced young woman watching him from one side of the room, he began to regret this decision. He still had not told anyone about his cancer, and if one of these people leaked it to the press...
Nick quickly sat down in one corner, swiped a random magazine from the rack next to him, and bent over it, hiding his face. Looking down at it, he realized first that it was upside down and second that it was one of those maternity magazines. Feeling his face grow hot, he quickly turned the magazine right side up and hoped anyone watching him would just think his wife was expecting. He tried to focus his attention on an article called “Breast Feeding: Ten Tips For You and Your Baby” and ignore the few others waiting in the room.
Just as he was staring at the illustrations accompanying the article, a female voice said, “Nick?” Nick jumped, and the magazine fell from his hands, landing in a crumpled heap on the floor and making a lot of noise in process. He looked up at the door leading to the examining rooms, but there was no nurse standing there.
“Nick?”
Nick’s head jerked in the direction of the voice and found himself looking over at the girl he had noticed when he came in. She was sitting a few chairs down from him, a magazine turned face down in her lap, marking her spot. She snickered at him and grinned. “Hi.”
“Oh... hi,” Nick said back, still a bit discombobulated and feeling quite stupid. He quickly bent down, red-faced, grabbed his magazine and hastily shoved it back onto the rack. When he glanced back at the girl, he found she was still looking at him. “Um... you... you recognize me, don’t you? You want an autograph? I’ll give you whatever, just, please, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell-“
The girl smiled and interrupted him with, “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Uh...” Nick stared at her. She was obviously a cancer patient, her head covered in a baby blue scarf patterned with small white clouds. Her skin was dull and putty-colored, brightened only by light blue eyes that looked oversized and out of place under barren eyebrows and lashless lids. It was the eyes, though, that suddenly made him realize who he was talking to. “Oh! Uh... Claire, right?”
She smiled bashfully. “Yeah. Sorry to put you on the spot... I guess I look a lot different then I did when we met. They’ve got me on some new drugs, and this is one of the side effects.” Grimacing, she looked down at her body, which was no longer that of the frail, gaunt girl he had met at his first chemo session. She now looked to be a good thirty or forty pounds heavier, and her face, which once had been so thin he could make out her cheekbones, resembled a moon pie.
Nick couldn’t help but gape for a few seconds, shocked and frightened by what had happened to her. He had thought cancer drugs made you lose weight, not gain it. Selfishly, he couldn’t help but wonder if this would happen to him. God, that was the last thing he needed. He had been teased enough about his weight already. The thought of looking all fat and bloated and bald like the girl sitting next to him made him sick to his stomach.
“Well... sorry to bug you... I just wanted to say hey.” Claire shrugged and picked up her magazine, suddenly looking very interested in it. Nick noticed her pale cheeks turning scarlet and realized he had embarrassed her.
Humiliated by his rudeness, Nick quickly said, “No, you’re not bugging me. I’m sorry, my mind’s a million miles away. Anyway, it, uh, good to see you. How are you doing?”
She shrugged. “Oh, I’m hanging in there,” she replied. “Still not in remission, but hey, they’re trying.” Her voice was bright and flippant, but he could hear the quiver of worry embedded in it. Again, his stomach lurched with trepidation. Was she losing the fight? Would he?
“So, anyway, how are you? Still got your hair, I see.” She smiled slightly at him.
He chuckled, nervously touching the blonde strands. “Yeah... for now. I’m doing okay, I guess. Chemo sucks, but I guess you already know that.”
“Yup,” she laughed. “So... what kind of chemo do you get? Oral or IV?”
“Oh... uh... IV... I’ve got a... a catheter thingie...” He shifted, uncomfortably aware of the small device poking out of his chest.
“Ohh, lucky you. I’ve got one too.” She pulled her t-shirt taut over her chest, and he could make out the tiny bulge. He chuckled nervously, awed by how comfortable she was with the whole thing. He was forever tugging on his shirt, making sure it was loose enough to hide the catheter.
The door leading to the exam rooms opened with a click, and a nurse stepped into the room. “Claire? You can come on back now.” She smiled pleasantly in Claire’s direction, and Claire stood up.
“Well, see ya around, Nick,” said Claire, smiling at him.
“Yeah, I’ll see ya,” Nick replied, returning the smile as Claire followed the nurse out of the waiting room. Reaching over, he picked up the magazine she had left lying on her empty chair, a tattered copy of Reader’s Digest. He flipped it over. It was open to a section called “Laughter is the Best Medicine.” Smiling, Nick decided this was better than reading about breastfeeding and began to read the short entries. He could use a laugh.
***
