The Next Door Boys (5 page)

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” Really, I just wanted to go back to my apartment where cancer wasn't part of my life.

He laughed under his breath. “Don't lie to me, Leigh.” A true grin now on his face.

I let out a breath of resignation. “I get winded when I go up stairs. I'm more tired than I'd like. My parents refused to let me go to school unless I followed some guidelines.”

“What guidelines are those?” he asked. He leaned back against the small counter.

“My brother drives me to school. I can take only four classes. I absolutely must call you if I ever have any issues, and I have sleeping pills for when I can't sleep.”

“Yes, I saw that. Have you needed a refill on those yet?”

“No. I don't take them; they make me feel terrible.” I met his eyes with mine.

“How does not sleeping feel?”

“It's better than the hangover when I take the pills.” I kept his gaze.

He chuckled once. “Have you tried taking half?”

I actually hadn't thought of that, but I stayed silent.

“Any dizziness? That kind of thing? I saw that was one of your main complaints before,” he continued.

“I think that mostly has to do with when I have a hard time sleeping. I don't sleep for a couple of nights and then I'm distracted because I'm so tired and then I forget to eat. That's when I take a sleeping pill…” The doctor looked like he might want to say something, but I continued on before he could. “Those stupid things completely wipe me out, sometimes for more than twelve hours, and then I feel woozy for another day after that.”

“Leigh, wouldn't it be better if you slept all night, every night? You could try something over the counter.” He was studying my face closely now, watching my reactions.

My shoulders slumped. I'd been through all of this. I'd done herbal things, teas. The over-the-counter stuff either worked too well or not at all. I felt comfortable with what I had going.

“I see you've been over this.” He smiled and made a couple of notes in the computer.

“Yep.” I nodded once.

“You're probably done talking about it.”

“Right again.” I smiled at him a little so he wouldn't think I was completely terrible.

“I'd like to see you put on a little more weight—ten to twenty pounds.” He still watched me carefully. I never knew how to move or sit when I was the one on the table and the doctor and I were just chatting.

“I'm sure I'll manage,” I answered.

“Have you had any problems with fainting or anything like that?”

“Not since I've been at school.”

“What about before that?”

“Um…” I tried to remember back. “It was the last time I couldn't sleep for a long time—maybe July?”

He looked surprised. “And you're here at school?”

I was about to get the same lecture my doctors gave me before I left about how I was probably pushing myself too hard and how I should think about taking some more time. “Yes. I have good roommates, and I live next door to my brother. Besides, one of my roommates has only one more year before she's a nurse.”

“Great,” he responded in a flat voice. “I want you to remember that it's a lot of activity for your body while you're recovering.”

“But I shouldn't still be recovering, right? I keep feeling like I should be better now.” The frustration of the slowness of my recovery made me crazy sometimes. The cancer was gone and the treatments were done. I should have been feeling great.

“Our bodies heal at their own pace. Try to eat well and…”

I raised my hand between us. “I know.”

“I want to make sure you're listening to your body more than your need for independence.” He stood a step away and gave me a stern doctor look. He was surprisingly good at it for being so young.

“It really was a long time ago. I realize that for someone this young, it's taking me a really long time to get my energy back and all that, but really, I'm overwatched. I'm sure I'll be fine.” I gave him my best “I'll be a good patient” look.

“It wasn't a really long time ago; it just feels like it to you.” He looked at the computer again. “Any pain or discomfort at all?”

“No.”

“Lay back for me?”

I did as asked. He pushed and prodded all over my abdomen. It wouldn't have felt good to anyone. When someone pushes one hand with their other hand into your stomach over and over, it doesn't feel good.

“Your scars healed up nicely.”

“Yep.” I was ready to be done, to be on my way home.

“Okay, Leigh. I'm going to have you go downstairs to the lab. We need a quick blood draw today…”

“Today?” I hadn't been the best at taking my iron. They always took more blood than I was prepared for, and whether it was real or just in my head, when somebody was taking some of my blood, it made me feel as though they took almost
all
of my blood. Jaron needed his car back, and it would probably take me some time and a meal to feel like driving all that way.

“Is that a problem?” His eyes immediately shifted to my face, watching me carefully like everyone seemed to do.

“No, no, sorry. It's fine.” I nodded to reassure him. I just wanted it over with. After months of needles in my arm, you'd think it would now be no big deal, but it was the opposite. I'd done it, I'd had to do it a million times, and I wanted no more of it.

“Okay, so here's your sheet of symptoms to watch for…”

“I already have that sheet.”

“Take it again.” He handed it over. “And here's one on sleep…”

“I have that one too.”

“Yes, and you're still not sleeping. So you get to take this one too.” He reached out and shook my hand. “Well, it was nice to meet you Leigh. Please call me if you're not feeling well in any way, okay? And we'll squeeze you in.” He gave me a thin-lipped smile. He was nice, but I really hated those thin-lipped smiles. They were full of sympathy I didn't want to be a recipient of. Sympathy meant something in your life was sucking.

Since I knew Jaron's precious car would be returned late, I called him.

“Hey sis, what's up?” he answered.

“I'm going to have your car back a little later than I thought.”

“Are you okay?”

Crap. I hadn't thought of anything to say. “They had to take blood. I wasn't expecting that, so I'm going to hang around up here until I'm not dizzy anymore, and then I'll head back down. I'd hate to crash that precious car of yours.” I tried to joke.

“You know, it's no big deal, Leigh. Brian and I could drive up and—”

“Totally not necessary,” I interrupted. The thought of Brian, who I barely knew, coming up here to rescue poor, weak little Leigh was too much. “I'm just being extra cautious. I'll see you about dinnertime. I'm at some random café with a muffin and a drink. I'll be fine in a few minutes.”

“Okay, Leigh. Call—”

“Yeah, Jaron. Call if I need anything. Thank you. I understand. I'm sorry I have your car out later than you expected. I'll see you soon.” I was trying to hide the annoyance from my voice but I'm sure I did a terrible job.

“Okay.” His voice was quiet.

I hung up the phone, but it rang before I had a chance to set it on the table. Mom.

“Hey, Mom.” I felt resigned—there would be no pretending that I was actually on my own.

“How was it?”

“He said I was amazing, like superwoman, and to call you right away and tell you that you have nothing to worry about.” I took another bite of muffin.

“That's not funny, Leigh.” Her exasperation tinged every word.

I swallowed my muffin and took a drink. “He's nice. He did some blood work, said I looked okay, and said the same thing everyone says. ‘Don't do too much, take it easy, and call me if you need anything.’”

“Do you like him?”

“He's okay. He put up with me for a half an hour,” I added, mostly to let her know that I realized I was being a little difficult.

I could tell that made my mom smile. “Well, let me know when they get your blood work back, okay?”

“Okay, Mom.” I washed the last of my muffin down with the last of my orange juice.

“Love you, Leigh.”

“Love you too, Mom. I'll talk to you soon.”

“Okay, bye.”

I hung up. I sat there for a long moment looking out the window. All I wanted was to be on my own. It felt impossible. I didn't mind being around Jaron—he was a great big brother. I guess I just wanted him to read my mind and know when I wanted to do things by myself. Or maybe, I just needed to be better about telling him what I needed.

I stood up and took a deep breath. I didn't feel too dizzy—a little like I was swimming, but not bad. I'd just head home. It seemed like a shame to come all the way to Salt Lake and not go to Temple Square, but it wasn't going to happen. Not today.

I pulled into the driveway right when I said, around dinnertime. I climbed out of Jaron's car to see him standing there, waiting for me.

“Leigh?” he asked as I handed him the keys. “Can I take you to dinner?”

“Um… sure.” I turned and climbed back into his car, the passenger's side that time, and we pulled out. “What's up Jaron?” I figured he had a purpose.

“We didn't talk about your cancer much, when you were sick.”

“No. You were my safe person.” I smiled at that memory of him. He never asked about me, just what I wanted. We'd played a lot of games and watched a lot of movies. I never had to worry about answering questions about how I was feeling or the really intrusive questions people feel they can ask about your body when they know you're sick. Ovarian cancer was not a comfortable thing to talk about at eighteen. It still wasn't at close to twenty.

“Your safe person?” He glanced at me, waiting for more explanation.

“You know. You were the one who didn't ask the same questions as everyone else.”

“Oh.” His face fell.

“It's fine, Jaron. Really. You can ask me whatever you want.” It was over now—aside from the unnecessary paranoia of my parents and the medical profession.

He looked as if he was deciding whether to take me up on it or not. “What do they do for you now? I mean, why do you go in?”

“To babysit me.” I laughed. He looked over at me, wanting a real answer. “Okay, they do a once-over, like a regular checkup only they ask me more specific questions about how I'm feeling. They always go over a list of things for me to watch for—you know, in case it comes back.”

“Isn't there a better way to do that? To know if you're getting sick again?”

“They do a blood test. It's not perfect, but it's a good indication.” I clasped my hands together in my lap, unsure of what he'd want to know.

“Why would they worry about it coming back?” He kept his eyes on the road.

“Well, with me, for several reasons. The first is that the cancer was in one ovary, not both. The fact that I had ovarian cancer and still have an ovary puts me at greater risk. There was also some, but not a lot, of cancer in the surrounding tissue. It's actually a little strange that it wasn't in both ovaries considering they found it elsewhere.” I knew I had to just keep talking or I wouldn't be able to finish.

“I was adamant that they leave the healthy one there so that I'd at least have the chance for kids later. They removed one ovary and the fallopian tube… and I can't believe I'm saying these words in front of my brother.” I laughed, but he smiled and kept looking at the road in front of us. “The chemo was to kill any small cancer cells they might have missed or that were growing in the surrounding tissue.”

“I'm missing something. They left one there, which gives you a greater risk of repeated cancer, but you still can't have kids?” His eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“Ironic, huh?” I looked out the window. “The chemo often damages the remaining ovary to the point that it's sterile. They're pretty sure that's what happened to me. It's almost completely withered away. I'm okay with that. I knew it was a likely outcome.”

“Really? Just like that?” Now he sounded incredulous.

“Just like that.” I pulled my knees to my chest on the small car seat. “The whole thing sucks, Jaron. You just get used to suckiness.” I rested my cheek on my knees so I could see him. “I figured Mom would have told you all this stuff.”

He laughed. “I'm sure she did, but at the time, it wasn't what was important, you know?”