Finding Strength (23 page)

Chapter Thirty-Seven

September 16
th
, 2011

Life sometimes plays bad tricks on us and so far, I’ve been on the receiving end of a few of them. The past few months, my health didn’t get any worse, but it wasn’t any better either. The medications were not reversing the damage that was already done but so far, they were working to keep more damage from occurring. At least that’s what my scan’s last month showed. Little did I know, all of that was about to change.

Creating arrangements of flowers for others gives me a sense of pride. Knowing that I made something that will in turn make someone else’s day, brings a smile to my face. Needing more baby’s breath for the spray I am making, I turn to head in the direction of the coolers where we keep all of the pre-cut flowers. A pain, sharp like a dagger, surged through my chest. Almost stumbling, I catch myself, grabbing onto the counter before sliding down to the floor. Mallory, the other florist, comes running to my side. She calls the paramedics. I dig for my phone, fishing it out of my pocket and hand in her direction. “Zak.” Getting my meaning, she searches through my phone, finding his number and calling him at once.

I awoke feeling the calloused skin of my husband’s hand skimming my cheek ever so softly. Opening my eyes, I meet the green of his and smile at him.

“How are you feeling?” he ask.

              Tired, like I’ve run a marathon. How bad is it?” I ask. I know that pain like that only comes when something is terribly wrong.

“You have another infection, they have started you on antibiotics. You’ll have another scan in a few days to see if there is any change in your heart and lungs. You also have some fluid build-up around your heart. Not a lot, so Dr. Lexington is going to draw that off in the morning.”

“I’m not going to survive this, Zak.” Tears escape and trickle down onto the pillow. I shut my eyes and silently cry.

“Hey, don’t think like that, Anna. You are going to be fine.”

“You don’t know that,” I whisper.

              After a week in the hospital I am able to go home. I can no longer work my job and I have to avoid stress at all cost. I’m a mother, so that’s impossible. My medicines have been increased and now I have to come in every month instead of every three like before. The scans did show more damage had been done to my heart and I was diagnosed with Congestive Heart Failure on top of, and as a result of, the SLE. I just don’t know how I am going to deal with all of this. How do you keep going knowing that at any time, your life could be cut short?

“I don’t know how long I can fight this, Amy,” I tell her, giving a voice to my deepest fears.

“You fight as hard as you can, Anna. You have too much to live for to just give up.”

“It’s not that easy. Most days I feel as if I have no control over anything in my life, or my body for that matter. There’s constantly a storm, churning my thoughts, playing with my emotions and it’s too much for me to even comprehend, let alone fight.”

“You just have to take the good with the bad. Take each day as it comes. As hard as it is, you have to focus on the here and now, not the future and things that may or may not happen. No one is giving up on you. And if you think for one minute that we are going to let you give up, you better think again.” Her pointed look tells me she means business. This is my no nonsense friend, the one who would face a raging fire if it meant that someone she loves could survive.

December 25
th
, 2011

There is snow on the ground covering everything in white. The trees glisten, the sun dancing off of the branches casting a beautiful golden glow around the yard. This is unusual for the south and so there are no plows to clear the streets, except for in the city. And so we’ll be spending Christmas here, with my parents who came in last week. This is the first time in a long time that I am not spending the holiday with Amy.

After dinner, we take Braxton outside in the snow. It’s his first time ever seeing it. Snowballs are thrown, and there was a pathetic attempt at a snowman. With only a couple of inches on the ground, it’s a little hard to make a grandeur snowman. Braxton had a great time and that is really all that mattered. I threw snowballs from the porch while Braxton and Zak ran around the yard chasing each other, hiding behind the big oak tree and the trucks. Even my parents got in on the action. I snapped a few photos and laughed and cheered every time a snowball smacked someone in the face. 

Braxton sits in the floor with his new toys. It’s amazing how a six year old can entertain himself with cars and trucks, but what has his attention right now is his new tablet. There are books and games downloaded on it already. I curl into Zak’s side, pulling my legs up behind me while sipping on eggnog. This is what peace feels like. For the first time since I was diagnosed, I’m not worrying about what tomorrow will hold, I’m content with the present. I may be facing an uphill battle, but I have decided that if everyone else is going all in with me on this, then I won’t be the only one holding back. I will fight with every last breath I have, and I’ll have hope that it’s enough.

Present Day

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Amy says, making her way to the front door.

“Okay. And bring pizza.”

She smiles at me, gives me a quick nod yes, and is out the door. I take our glasses into the kitchen and put them in the sink. Spaghetti sounds good. I get everything I need and put some water on to boil while I fry the hamburger meat. The smell is drifting to my nose and my stomach growls loudly. The soft laughter I hear behind me lets me know that Zak is home. I take my elbow and jerk it backwards connecting with his gut. His oomph causes me to giggle.

“You don’t play fair,” he says, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“Never said I did. How was your day?”

“Good, busy but good. How was yours?”

“Really good. Amy and I got a lot done today. And we went for burgers!”

“I’m glad you’re able to get out of the house. You’ve been yourself a lot more lately. I hate seeing you sick, it tears me apart inside. Makes me feel so helpless,” he confesses.

“None of that. Let’s just enjoy this while it last. Who knows, I could be fine for days, months or years. Let’s not waste them worrying, okay?”

“You’re right. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now help me with dinner?”

I will never tire of feeling Zak’s body pressed against mine. The feelings he elicits in me, the way his skin feels against my own. The fire he ignites within my being has me needing more and needing it now. My back is pressed against his chest, his arm wrapped around me. His breath kisses my skin, sending shivers down my spine. I turn and face him. It’s been too long. I need to feel him, to feel that connection between us. I turn to face him, running my hand along his side down his ribcage, stopping when I hit the waistband of his shorts. He peers at me through the slits in his eyes, passion flaring in their depths. He places his hand on top of mine, stopping its journey dead in its tracks.

“Anna?” he says my name and I know he is asking if I am sure. Am I well enough for this. I slide my hand to his neck, gripping him and pulling his lips to mine. That’s all the answer he needs. Zak is gentle and slow in his movements, as if I will break if he lets go of the desire and intense affection coursing through his veins. Every stroke, every kiss, every touch is laced with love and warmth. Our hearts are woven together, the binds strengthened as we move as one, climbing higher and higher to the point of combustion, plunging over the edge together.

When our breathing has returned to normal, our heart rates beating a normal rhythm, I close my eyes. The weight of Zak’s arm across my abdomen is comforting and his breathing is lulling me to sleep. Squeezing his arm, pulling it closer to me, I tenderly whisper in the darkened room, “I love you, Zak. More than my own life, I love you.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

January 2012-December 2014

The ‘To-Do’ Years

For two years my health remained steady. I didn’t have any more stints in the hospital, no changes in my heart or lungs. I was able to make a ‘to-do list’. I didn’t want to say bucket list because that’s what people do when they know they are dying. I didn’t want to give it credentials, or any implications that dying was my reality. It wasn’t. I was living life and having fun, enjoying my family and friends. Of course my list couldn’t contain anything that would over stress me and so I thought of things that I knew I could do.

Early summer of 2012, I took an art class. I thought that since I could make gorgeous bouquets that meant that I was somewhat artistic. Didn’t it? I found out first hand that is definitely not the case. My attempt at a nature scene was a disaster. What was supposed to be mountains, turned out looking more like deformed hills. I had a great time making a complete mess of it, though. Zak even framed my painting and even though I begged him not to hang it where it can be seen, it’s gracing our living room wall.

The next thing on my list that I checked off was visiting the Aquarium in Atlanta. Who knew there was so much walking involved? I had to stop several times as to not overdo it. There were so many different fish and the dolphin show was fantastic. The underwater tunnel was the best. There, you could see huge sting rays and manta rays, small fish, big fish, and a huge whale shark. Braxton ran ahead of us and we had to call him back several times. His excitement over the fish spilled over to those around us. He was disappointed when I had to tell him that we couldn’t take any of the fish home. “Why not?” he had asked.

“Because we have no place to keep fish that big,” I told him. His little mind was working in overdrive as he thought of somewhere we could house these monster fish.

“They can live in our bathtub.”

I laughed so hard picturing our tub overflowing with flopping fish. “I’m sorry, buddy. They won’t fit in our tub either.”

We did go into the gift shop before we left and Braxton picked out a stuffed whale that was almost as big as he was. It curbed the disappointment he felt for not getting the real thing and his frown was replaced with a smile as we made our way back to the truck.  

Later that night, we drove the few miles to have dinner at the most popular hotdog joint in Atlanta. Once the hotdogs and onion rings were all but gone, Zak maneuvered us through the pedestrians and cars into the heart of the city. He paid an outrageous fee to park in a lot off of one of the side streets, and walked us over to a horse and buggy that was stopped on the side of the road. He spoke with the driver and after paying for the ride, we boarded the carriage. The lights of the city made the streets glow a deep yellow color. The buildings stood tall and proud as if guarding the city streets below. The air was on the cooler side, fall in the south means hot during the day and cooler at night, and I slide closer to Zak, pulling Braxton closer to my other side, as we made our way through the downtown traffic. 

              In the fall of 2012, Braxton spent a week with Amy and Shane so that Zak and I could mark another checkbox on my list. Vegas. I had never been there and so we booked a hotel for a week, packed our bags, and flew to Nevada. That was only the second time I have ever flown. The first time was so long ago, that I forgot what it was like. The take-off terrified me, until I remembered how great it was to zoom through the air like a bird. If we could fly everywhere from now on, I’d be just fine with that.

The hotel room was magnificent. We were on the floor just below the penthouse in the honeymoon suite. Of course, it wasn’t our honeymoon but Zak insisted since we are alone for the week, this could be a second honeymoon for us. I can’t argue that logic. The floor to ceiling windows catch my eyes and I walk over to take in the view of the strip below. The sun was still high in the sky, yet the city was still striking. I couldn’t wait to see what the night would bring.

“What do you say we try our hand in the casino?” Zak asked, reminding me that the last time we were in a casino, we never played one game.

“Sounds fun, let’s go.”

We made our way to the elevator and down into the lobby. Machines were dinging, making its own melodic sounds as the reels were spinning. I was entranced and captivated by the scene before me. Giddiness ran a marathon through my veins and I felt like a kid in a candy store. Zak took my hand in his and pulled me along behind him, weaving our way to the center of the room. There were two slots side by side and we each took a seat at one.

“Okay, Sunshine. Let’s win some money.” His eyebrows rose and wiggled causing me to giggle at his playfulness. We each put a five dollar bill and hit the max bet. When a cherry landed on the center line causing two coins to fall out beneath the reel, I squealed in excitement. Picking them up, I held them out toward Zak.

“I won! I won!” Now it was his turn to laugh. I had won a whole two dollars. It wasn’t the money that I was so happy about, it was being able to just enjoy myself, without worry, carefree and not thinking about my illness even if only for a little while.

Over the next few days, we explored the strip and casino hopped. We hadn’t hit it big, but we did win enough to keep playing off of their money and not our own. In the evenings, we would cruise the strip, as some of the younger people would call it. The lights were amazing. Some were flashing, billboards were lit in varying colors advertising different entertainers and shows, and the casino’s loomed over the street on both sides. I rolled the window down in the rental car and stuck my head through the opening, letting the night air blow the hair from my face.

On the final day of our trip, Zak woke me up early, setting a tray of bagels, fruits, orange juice, and coffee on the bed next to me.

“What’s the occasion?” I ask him, picking up the bagel.

“I thought we’d do something crazy today. Since our plane leaves this afternoon, I had to get you up early.”

“And that something crazy would be?” I lift my eyebrow and give him an inquiring look.

“We’re getting married!” he says, his smile gleaming white and spread wide across his face. Light dances in his eyes reflecting his excitement.

“Um, I hate to break it to you, but we are already married.”

“I know. But how many chances do you get to have an Elvis impersonator marry you? Hurry up and eat so we can go.” He gets up from the bed and starts to walk over to his suitcase.

“Elvis? Really?” I can’t help laughing at his crazy idea. I have to admit, this is going to be interesting at the very least.

Zak made a stop at a costume shop. I waited in the car as he went in, returning about ten minutes later. He put the bag in the back seat, got into the driver’s seat, and we were once again on our way. He pulled into a little wedding chapel and I chuckled at the sign that read,
Weddings By Elvis: When You’ve Found Your Hunka Burnin’ Love.
Grabbing the bag from the back, we made our way into the little white building. Zak pulled out a sixties style white dress, handing it me. I looked at it, holding it out in front of me. Shaking my head, I ask, “I’m supposed to wear this?”

“Yep. I’ll be wearing this.” He pulls out a typical suit most Elvis impersonators wear. White, dazzled with jewels, big collar that I’m sure he will have flipped up. I laugh until my stomach hurts. “Our turn is in twenty minutes. Go get changed.”

I sway my hips purposefully as I turn and sashay into the restroom.

We walk hand in hand down the short isle, an Elvis song playing over the speakers that are mounted up near the ceiling on the walls. Zak is moving with the beat. Each step he takes, he throws in another Elvis move. I’m desperately trying to hold in my laughter, causing my shoulders to shake. Finally, we come to the end of the isle. I bet we only had to take fifteen steps to get to the front of the chapel, but when your husband is dancing his way down, it seems like a lot more than that.

I’m not sure what to call the guy ‘marrying’ us. Preacher? Minister? Or maybe something entirely different, but as soon as he walks out from behind a half wall set in the middle of the platform, the giggles I was trying to hold in come bursting out. He has on the exact same outfit as Zak, complete with a wig and sunglasses. I stifle my laughter, pressing my lips together.

The whole ceremony was comical. The Elvis impersonator used song titles throughout the entire thing. When it came time to do our vows, he asked us to repeat after him.

“I will love you tender, love you sweet. You are my unchained melody.”

After repeating his words, he pronounced us husband and wife without suspicious minds. I lost it. Fits of laughter, hysterical and causing tears to course down my face, broke free. I have never in my life seen or been a part of something so unromantic yet so sweet and enthralling at the same time. This will definitely remain one of my fondest memories for the rest of my life.