Just Breathe Again (8 page)

  “What kind of time are we looking at?” she was able to get out. She had to know how much time she had with her daughter. The fear and panic welled up in her body. She couldn’t breathe. The pain she felt was incredible. Yes, losing Vince was a nightmare. This was being thrown in the depths of hell.

  “I’m not sure, with chemo, a year or less. It’s hard to tell with a teenager. We have seen cases where they live two years and I have had cases of three months. I don’t want to tell you something to make you feel better. There is no feeling better and no use telling you she will pull through this. It’s going to be rough and Lydia is in for a grim ending. She’s been suffering for quite some time and not telling anyone,” said the doctor. Jeannie hoped she had heard him wrong, a year. What was he saying? She had twelve more months with her daughter, if she was lucky. This means one more Halloween, one more Thanksgiving, and one more Christmas. Lydia didn’t tell her how bad she was suffering. The thought was like a knife stabbing her in her heart. Why? Was she that consumed with her own misery that she didn’t see how sick her daughter was? Was Lydia afraid to tell her because of their financial situation? It was too much to bare. They were discussing her baby. This was her child and she couldn’t comprehend what was happening. 

  “If we would have known sooner, would, would her prognosis have been different?” Jeannie whispered. She couldn’t look at the doctor. She was disgusted with herself to let her child suffer and not know. What kind of mother was she?

 “In Lydia’s case, no. Please don’t blame yourself for this. Lydia thought her pain was migraines and that they would pass. It wasn’t until lately that the problem grew worse. Getting her here sooner would not have made a difference. There is no cure for this, Mrs. Franklin.”

 “Did anyone tell her yet?” asked Jeannie, not looking up. She let go of Marsha’s hand as the doctor handed her a Kleenex.  

  “No, we did not tell her. We can tell her, or you can, or we can tell her together. It’s up to you,” he said. Marsha squeezed her shoulder. 

  Jeannie whispered through her tears. “I can tell her.”

  “She is a little groggy from the light sedative we gave her. She may not be able to comprehend everything right not. Later, we have to discuss what we’re going to do. If you want to start chemo, we have to get a pic line started. If you choose not to, then we can make Lydia comfortable. If you want to care for her at home, we will help you set at home care up as well,” said Dr. Navarro.

  Jeannie could not grasp that her daughter was dying. How could anyone understand this? Her options were extending her misery for a few more months, or making her comfortable enough to die in peace. How could this happen with the faith she had? To Jeannie, there was no God anymore. How could a God do this to a young girl with her whole life to live? There was nothing. Her life was over along with her daughters.  Cancer had entered their family with a vengeance and Jeannie couldn’t stop the horrible intrusion. The cancer had broken into their lives like a home invasion as they sat there, helpless with fear and uncertainty of what would happen next. Nobody invited this horrible disease to come, yet it stared them in the face, taunting them and laughing. Jeannie was supposed to protect her from horrible problems, yet she could not protect her from this. No one could stop it, no matter what they did. Lydia had a tumor only other people had, and prayed you wouldn’t be confronted with such a demon. A tumor you didn’t concern yourself with too much because you knew it would not affect you or your child. This tumor was what they called, inoperable. She’s watched enough television that inoperable was the end of the road.  Jeannie was trapped in the present. Nothing she could do not would change what she and her daughter were facing.

  The worst part of the day was telling Lydia. How do you do such a thing to your child? How do you look in your child’s eyes and tell them they would die soon? Where does the strength come from and how do the words come out? Do you tell her, or do you lie to her?  How she needed her husband to help her through this. 

  Jeannie walked out of the doctor’s office, down the hall, and collapsed. Marsha sat down on the ground with her, rocking her back and forth while Jeannie sobbed. She cried from the depths of her soul. It was bad enough she lost the love of her life, she was losing a part of her again. Pieces of herself were dying and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her beautiful baby, they wanted so badly, was now leaving before her life began. It was like a cruel joke to have this beautiful girl for just a little while, then God took her away. How can he be so horrible? Jeannie couldn’t move. She wanted to die herself, to disappear, or find out this was a nightmare.

  “Come on, baby. You have to keep yourself together. You have Michael who needs you,” said Marsha.

  Holding onto Marsha and wailing a cry so painful it hurt Marsha’s ears. “Oh God, I want Vince. I have no one.” Her sobs were a cry of utter despair. She started to claw at Marsha with terror in her eyes.

  “I’m here. I’m here. I’ll be with you the whole time. You don’t have to face this alone,” cried Marsha, trying to reach out and hold her. She tried to be strong for her best friend. She couldn’t keep the tears from flowing down her face. To see Jeannie go through another death, was going to be hell. 

  Marsha tried to lift her off the floor. “Come on, we have to get up.”

  “Oh God, Oh God. What am I going to do? My baby. My poor baby,” Jeannie sobbed. Marsha was unable to get her up, and a nurse saw her lying on the floor. He came over, lifted Jeannie up, and carried her to an empty room. Her wailing could be heard echoing louder in the empty hospital room. She wanted to do yesterday over again. She wanted to go back and do the day before yesterday, and the day before that over again. Yesterday her daughter had a headache, a bad migraine. Yesterday, her daughter wasn’t faced with death at such a young age.

  “Is there someone we should call? Should I get a doctor?” he asked Marsha.

  “No, I’m the only person. Thank you for helping her off the floor. We will be out soon,” said Marsha.

  “Take your time. We aren’t busy today. Can I get you anything?” he asked.

  “Nothing you can help me with, honey. Thank you anyway,” said Marsha.

  The nurse walked out shutting the door, and Marsha tried to help Jeannie get herself together.

  Jeannie sat on the edge of the bed and Marsha bent down and held her hands.

  “Baby, we have to get to Lydia. You need to calm down, Jeannie. I know it’s impossible to even consider what she’s facing. You have to be strong. Now is not the time to fall apart. You have Michael too. He’s going to need you now more than ever. Do you understand what I’m telling you?” asked Marsha, sitting down next to Jeannie trying to talk sense into her.

  Pulling at her hair in desperation, Jeannie screamed. “Why? Why? What kind of mother am I? She has been sick and didn’t tell me. I deserve to die for this.”

  Marsha reached up and grabbed her hands again to keep her from hurting herself. 

  “I don’t know why. If I knew why I would be rich. I don’t know why it’s happening. There is a reason for everything in life. Everything is written out and planned. I can’t explain why. You have to know God has a plan for you. You’re not a horrible mother. You are the best mother I have met. You heard the doctor, even if you brought her in earlier, it would still be the same outcome,” said Marsha, rubbing her hand on Jeannie’s back.

  “Don’t say that,” she yelled. “There’s no God. A good loving God would not take my husband and my baby. No, I don’t want to hear there’s a reason for this. There’s no god damn fucking reason. I hate God and I won’t ask him for anything else,” she yelled more. Her face, distorted and looking like someone unrecognizable.

  Marsha didn’t respond. This wasn’t the time or the place. 

  After getting her somewhat calmed down, they walked out of the room with Marsha holding her up and Jeannie shaking and wiping her face. She had to be strong and be her mom. Several minutes passed and Jeannie was beginning to calm herself down as they walked the hallway. She held onto Marsha for dear life.

  “Do you want me to be with you when you tell her or should I step out?” asked Marsha, still holding onto her.

  “No, I want you there. I can’t do this without you,” Jeannie whispered. 

  “Okay, Jeannie this is the storm and you’re going to have to take the helm. I’m going to be right here with you.”              

  As they stepped into Lydia’s room, walking in was like walking into a hell with an angel laying out of place. Jeannie stood in the middle of hell. She had no idea what her mom was about to tell her. Lydia was lying in bed still somewhat groggy from the biopsy.  Jeannie saw the tears in her eyes and it broke her heart. She was crying, and she hadn’t even told her anything yet. She had no idea the nightmare lying in front of her. Jeannie noticed they shaved a very small piece of Lydia’s hair and there was a bandage on the spot they did the biopsy.

  “Where have you been, Mom?” she said, as she wiped the tears from her eyes

  “I had to talk to the doctor, sweetie. Did that hurt, what they did to you?” asked Jeannie, sounding stuffy. Marsha bent down and hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.

  “No, well the shot hurt they numbed me with. I’m going to look like an idiot going back to school like this. Are they putting me on medicine again that makes me tired?” asked Lydia, looking half asleep.

  Marsha walked over and shut the door. Jeannie sat down on the bed and held her daughters hand. She had to be strong and not fall apart. It would be the hardest thing she had ever done. That was worse than taking her husband off his life support. At least, Jeannie knew there was a reason for that. This had no reasoning.

  “I want you to listen to me. Are you awake enough to listen?” said Jeannie. She grabbed her daughters other hand.

  “Mom, you’re scaring me. Yes, I’m awake. What’s wrong with me? It’s bad, right?” asked Lydia, sitting up in bed.

  Jeannie swallowed and looked at Marsha for help. Marsha nodded her head at her. 

  “They found a…” She couldn’t say tumor. She had to reach down inside of herself and tell her the truth. She looked away and tried to gather her strength to tell her the worst news ever.                 

  “Lydia, you have cancer in your head. I don’t know how else to tell you. They found this bad thing when they did the CT scan. Today they did the MRI and this biopsy and its cancer, honey,” said Jeannie. Silence filled the dark hospital room for a few minutes, except for the sound of the beeping of the machines.

  “Okay. Are they going to take the tumor out?” she asked, not listening to what Jeannie was saying to her. Neither Marsha nor Jeannie answered her right away.

  “They are going to have to cut into my brain. I’m going to have a bald spot and stitches in my head,” said Lydia, getting upset.

  “No, they can’t remove the tumor. It’s in a difficult place in your head. They can’t take it out,” said Jeannie.

  “What are they going to do?  Is the tumor growing? Will the tumor be sticking out of my head?” she asked.

 Marsha spoke up noticing Jeannie was becoming upset again. “Yes, and no. They are going to leave the tumor alone and give you medicine to see if it will shrink.”

  “Do you mean chemo?” asked Lydia, looking scared.

  “Yes, they are going to start chemo,” said Marsha.

  “And my hair will fall out,” said Lydia. Jeannie gazed into her eyes. Big brown eyes starred back at her in puzzlement. Jeannie starred at her for a moment in silence as she gathered her thoughts.

 Jeannie held her gaze trying to make her understand without coming out and saying, death. “Lydia, listen to me. They are going to give you chemo if you want. It’s not going to do much for you.”

  “What are you saying, Mom? This cancer can’t come out and the chemo isn’t going to do anything? I’m dying?” asked Lydia, as tears pooled in her brown eyes. The eyes Jeannie loved to look into as a baby. The eyes were the same as Vince’s. The eyes she would see the life leave soon. 

  “Lydia, the type of cancer you have in your brain is… bad. They want you to start chemo to shrink the tumor. But…”

  “But what? Tell me what’s happening. Don’t lie to me, Mom. You said you wouldn’t lie to me so don’t lie now,” she yelled and cried at the same time in a weakened voice.

   “Lydia, I’m not going to lie to you or tell you it’s going to be okay. It’s not going to be okay. This tumor is not going to go away, ever. The chemo is going to give you more time, not a cure,” Jeannie said, crying again.

  Lydia sat there and didn’t say anything. She looked out beyond her mom and beyond Marsha. The room became silent again as Lydia took in the fact she was dying. She wouldn’t marry, give birth, go to college, and get a first job or first apartment. Never have a first kiss even.

  “Give me more time? What, another sixty years? More time? It’s going to make me suffer during the time that I do have and then I will die anyway, right?” She seemed to be in a panic. Her eyes suddenly looked terrified.

  “Lydia, if you let them start chemo, you will live longer,” said Jeannie.

  “If you bring me home without chemo, how much longer do I have to live?” she asked trying to not cry anymore and be strong for her mother. Lydia let go of Jeannie’s hand and jerked away.

  “They don’t know. To be honest, you may have a year or a few months. It’s up to you whether they give you chemo or not,” said Jeannie.

  “How long do I have to decide what to do?” she asked. How a sixteen year old girl could handle such news was remarkable to Jeannie.  

  “They want to know as soon as possible, and we can bring you home and care for you,” said Jeannie.

  “Will I suffer?” Lydia asked starting to cry again. This time she looked at Marsha instead of her mom for the answer, holding onto her blankets like a scared child.

  “No, you will not suffer. I won’t let you suffer a second. I will make sure. We will keep you feeling good and I will be with you every minute of the day,” said Jeannie, crying too.