The Gift

I make it back to my room and I’m exhausted, both physically and emotionally. As I slide into my bed I hear someone come in and look over at the gap in the privacy curtain. It was nurse Lacey.

I glance at the clock on the wall wondering why she was here early, only to see that she wasn’t early at all, it was already past shift change. No wonder why I was so tired.

“And where have you been young lady?” she asks me.

“I was downstairs with… a friend.”

“I saved your lunch if you’re hungry.”

I wasn’t really but agreeing was easier than listening to a nurse’s harangue about depression and my body’s need for food.

I shrug noncommittally, which was enough for her to take as my acquiescence and she turns, saying, “I’ll be right back with it and we’ll get your vitals out of the way since you missed them earlier. Then you can nap or whatever you want until dinner.”

I pull my blanket up to me waist, angled the bed up a bit higher and turned the TV on while I waited.

Nurse Lacey came back with a tray which she say on my movable table, then proceeded to take my vitals – blood pressure (normal), blood oxygen level (low because I tend to hold my breath while I’m tested), temperature (normal), and pulse (normal). She then checked my lungs to make sure they were clear, since most chemo patients have no immune system to speak of and pneumonia is common, not to mention deadly.

Lacey moved around to my front, the dance familiar to me. Up the back if my shirt, down the front. She checked my central line site for signs of infection or infiltration (the last doesn’t generally apply to a central line, only a traditional IV, but they still check anyway), then pushed my table over my lap saying, “Enjoy,” as she left the room.

I sat back and lifted the lid that was on my lunch, expecting the worst. Fortunately is wasn’t as bad as I expected.

While not too hungry, I almost wished I were here earlier. My lunch consisted of a grilled cheese sandwich and fries, along with a pickle spear.

Reheated grilled cheese was okay, but the fries were like rubber now – I know from experience – so I avoided those. The pickle was also reheated. Ugh.

I sighed. Who eats hot pickles? Unless they were battered. Fried Pickles – frickles – yum.

I pushed away the cup of soup, knowing it was tomato. Who deemed that a grilled cheese must be accompanied by tomato soup?

Normally the dietitians are good about our likes and dislikes and try to substitute food when we tell them we don’t like something, but I guess someone is stubborn and purposely ignores my appeals for something other than tomato.

Some Sprite to drink and chocolate pudding for dessert completed the meal.

I decided to eat the sandwich and pudding and then take a nap. Waking up later, I found my tray removed, the table moved, the TV on and turned down low, and the room lights off except for the one that was more like a night light.

Nurse Lacey always was considerate and did her job well. She actually went out of her way to spend time with each of us when she had the extra time. Time she spent trying to make us feel a little more human, a little less depressed. She would play games, color, or work on puzzles with the younger kids. For the older kids, she would style and braid hair for those with it still, or paint finger- and toe nails with the girls.

With the boys, she would play with action figures or Legos usually.

A lot of the other staff helped Anna (nurse Lacey’s first name) out with the mundane work so she had time to spend with us. She would tease me about finding a boyfriend and I would tell her ’Who wants to go out with a teenage bald girl?’

Once I asked her why she wasn’t married. She was pretty, five-two or three, long red hair usually in a braid, and piercing hazel eyes, that were more greenish. I didn’t think she was going to answer as she got a faraway look in her eyes, then she smiled a lopsided grin at me and said she wasn’t very lucky in that department, but there was a guy, Kris, who she was dating that she really liked.

I tried to get more out of her but she changed the subject and wouldn’t tell me anymore.

As I lay there watching TV, my IV starts beeping and I look over to see an empty IV bag. Glancing at the clock I sigh. Great, right before dinner.

Anna came in to check my beeping IV, saw it was empty and paused it. “I’ll be right back.” She was back in about two minutes. “Time to refill the bug killer,” she says.

“Can you wait to start it until after dinner?” I plead.

She raises an eyebrow in question.

“If not, you might as well skip my dinner,” I went on. “No matter what it is, it won’t taste good if my mouth tastes like I’ve been sucking on pennies. I don’t think any chief has found and kind of pairing with cooper.”

Anna gave me her grin again, saying, “Kids… I know you’re smart enough to know that pennies are made mostly of zinc nowadays.”

I started to open my mouth in protest, but she stopped me. “Whether it’s copper, zinc, or some metallic taste, I understand. Just promise not to drag out dinner so it screws up your schedule too bad and I’ll wait until you’re done.”

I promise and she tells me dinner will be here real soon and that she’ll give me mine first. Dinner comes and I eat by rote, not really even tasting the food and as I finish, as if by magic, Anna shows up to take my tray and start my IV.

I’m still tired so I ask, “Can I have my sleeping pill now?”

“Sure hon, I’ll bring it right back.”

When she came back with it, I take it and crash for the rest of the night. Sleep comes quickly, but it’s restless.