Pieces of Your Heart

Punk Rock & Chemo

Ian sat in a tall back chair, his stomach sick with nervousness, watching the nurse place an IV in his arm. He had refused to let Elodie come with him, despite her adamant protests.

"Blood and needles don't freak you out huh?" the nurse asked him.

"Not really. Why do you ask?"

"Most people look away when I'm putting the catheter in."

"Oh. No, it doesn't bother me."

"So, some side effects of the chemo: nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, hair loss. Your immune system is going to be seriously compromised from the medication, so if you end up with a fever you want to seek medical attention right away." She finished taping the IV to his arm and looked at him. "Do you have a ride home?"

"I drove myself."

"You might want to call someone to pick you up. Your vision and concentration could be affected by the treatment."

"I'll be fine," he replied.

She hung a bag of medication on the IV pole, pressed a few buttons and stood back as the infusion started. "Ok," she said. "Sit back and try to relax, you'll be here for a few hours. Call me if you start to feel like you might throw up, or if you need anything."

Ian nodded. "Thank you."

He took a breath in and closed his eyes. At this point, the doctors had told him, the cancer was aggressive but treatable. Even so, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held, and how much future he had left.

Less than an hour into the treatment, Ian began to shiver. He felt like his entire body was encased in ice. Not long after that, the nausea hit like a brick wall.

"You ok?" the nurse asked him.

He covered his mouth with both hands.

"Need to throw up?" she asked handing him a plastic bucket.

He squeezed his eyes shut as the contents of his stomach pushed their way up his throat. The nurse handed him a towel.

"Fuck," he breathed.

"Yeah," she replied sympathetically. "I know." She wrapped a warm blanket around his shoulders and knelt down in front of him. "You need anything else right now?"

Ian let out a short laugh. "A new body would be nice."

He sat in the waiting room of the outpatient clinic for almost an hour before he felt like he could get up. As he slowly made his way through the parking lot, he caught site of Elodie leaning against his truck.

"What are you doing here?"

She shrugged. "I wasn't sure if you could drive."

He stood in front of her, taking in the earnestness of her expression.

"Are you mad?" she asked.

He stepped into her arms and leaned his head down onto her shoulder.

"No, I'm not mad. I'm cold and I'm nauseated, but I'm not mad. I'm feeling a little stupid."

"Why?"

"I should have let you come with me. I just didn't want you to have to relive all of this."