Awakening to Life

Awakening to Life 9

Chapter 9

Cold sweat trickles down the side of my face and my head is buzzing like I've just come home from a rock concert. My eyes glaze over as I try to focus on something, anything but the pain.

"Take these Alison dear." Rachel shoves the mountain of pills onto the bedside table and hands me a glass of water, passing each pill one at a time until I've swallowed them all. She sits by my bed for a moment longer before quietly backing out of the room. I know she feels bad when she can't take away the pain. She's a good person... all of the nurses are good people. I suppose it must be a prerequisite for the job. I wonder how they'd measure kindness in a test.

I sigh, gazing up at the white ceiling before squeezing my eyes shut. I want to pray for a speedy recovery, or any recovery at all really, but a sharp pain reverberates throughout my head every time I try to concentrate on forming the words in my mind.

The clock ticks steadily and seconds turn into minutes. I feel like I'm literally wasting my life away in this hospital. Not for the first time, I consider the possibility that I won't leave the hospital. Maybe they won't let me go home. Maybe I won't get well enough to leave.

"Allie?"

I hadn't heard the door open. It usually squeals in protest as visitors push through, giving me time to arrange myself to look happy and occupied or pretend to be fast asleep. Paul walks in to catch sight of a tear making its way down my cheek.

He sits down in the chair next to me. I know that I must look awful. My skin has a white sheen to it and I hold myself like I'm a hundred years old and not sixteen. Even within the bed my joints seem to be all hunched over and my hands shake when I reach for Paul's. His eyes narrow in concern when he sees me. I watch him through my tears and realise that he doesn't look sick anymore. His hair is growing back and while it is short, with his fully grown eyebrows he looks like a normal teenager. I'm shocked by the realisation. Paul is wearing faded jeans and a grey jumper that actually fits him and I find that he's actually gained weight. He pulls a pack of cards from the pocket of the jumper and smiles at me.

"You want to play?" he asks, indicating at the deck.

"No." It hurts to look at the tiny symbols and numbers on each card, it's like they're dancing in front of my eyes and playing tricks with my brain. "Can we just talk?"

"Sure." He helps me struggle up into a half sitting position. I barely have the strength to move but he is able to lift my body easily. He's strong.

"Are you in remission?" I ask quietly, watching carefully for any sign that I may be wrong and have... well not offended, but hurt him maybe.

I see pain in his eyes so I open my mouth to apologise. Paul is quicker. "Yes," he whispers, his voice full of pain. My eyebrows turn inwards and I stare at him in confusion, my eyes raking over his face.

"It's true. Allie, I'm so sorry that it's me and not you too." I don't say anything for a moment as I process the news. He had been sicker than me and he has had cancer longer than I have, I'd always assumed we'd die within months of each other. As it turns out, I'm dying alone. That's what he's feeling guilty about, I realise. I'm dying and he's not. How stupid... and kind and beautiful. I start crying and once I start, I can't stop. He's my best friend and I love him. He's going to live. I'm happy for him, and devastated for myself because in this moment I feel like I've lost all hope.

"The cancer's losing. I've started a clinical trial. Doctor Marshall said it has great promise and I think it's really working Allie! I'm going to be in remission." His eyes never leave mine as he pleads with me. "I'm so sorry Allie!"