Every Last Drop: A Novel Read online

  “How long do I have to be in here?” I lifted my head past the confining boards, watching her move panels and fiddle with the machine.

  “The treatment itself is only two to three minutes,” she assured me.

  I lowered my head to the table. “I guess that’s not too bad.”

  “I need to put a holder over your head to keep you still, ensuring the radiation is focused on the correct location,” the technician explained, her face appearing over mine. She held a white object with bolts on the edges.

  “A what?” The panic in my voice was obvious. “What is that?”

  She gave me a small, sympathetic smile. “It’s a type of hard mesh. I’ll place it over your head, and then I will secure it to the table. I know it’s frightening the first time—it is for everyone. However, it’s imperative your head be completely still. This will ensure that happens.”

  “What if I promise not to move?” I swallowed hard, but she positioned it above my face anyway. I was already held in place with the boards by the side of my head, further restraints seemed cruel.

  “It’s not as scary as it looks, I promise. Plus, it’s only two minutes. You can do this,” she tried to encourage me, lowering it closer to my face, the plastic pressing down and pushing my skull to the table.

  The material covered every inch of my head and neck, pinning me down and crisscrossing over my eyes, nose, and mouth with only the tiniest opening for me to breathe. I could barely see at all and my breathing was made shallow as my jaw was forced closed and my nose squished.

  I was doing my best to handle it, trying to breathe slowly and concentrate on anywhere but here.

  Then I heard the bolts locking into place next to my head and I panicked.

  High pitch shrieks emanated from deep inside me, completely out of my control. I flailed my arms and tried to get off the table, but from the neck up, I was paralyzed.

  “Mrs. Falls! Calm down!” The technologist sounded as panicked as me, immediately unfastening the holder.

  I couldn’t stop screaming.

  I jumped from the table the instant my head was free. Standing crouched in the middle of the room, my chest heaved, eyes wild as I cried, covering my face in my hands. “I can’t do this!”

  “I know it’s frightening, Mrs. Falls, but it will be over quickly. I have to put it on you. I have no choice—it’s for your own safety,” she tried to explain.

  “I can’t. I can’t.” I was sobbing now, my face surely bright red with embarrassment.

  She was only doing her job, I knew this, but what I hadn’t known was what to expect from the doctor’s vague warning that I might feel claustrophobic. To be completely pinned down and paralyzed was another matter entirely.

  “What if I get your husband? Maybe let him talk to you for a few minutes?” she asked, leading me back to the table and encouraging me to sit.

  I sat, as far from the machine as I could, and only because my legs were shaking so hard I feared I’d collapse if I stood a minute longer. “Yes, please. Can he be in here with me?”

  “Definitely.” She smiled, but, again, it didn’t reach her eyes. “When the actual treatment starts, he’ll need to stand in the other room with me for his own safety, though.”

  I nodded, relieved, as she left to find Kyle. My cheeks heated, wondering if he would be ashamed of my reaction. He thought I was strong. The treatment hadn’t even started and I was crying.

  I’m not strong.

  It’s only day one. I have six more weeks of treatment and so far, I couldn’t handle the first thirty seconds. My chin dropped in shame, and I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing slowly. It’s just a mask. And a little claustrophobia. And two to three minutes. Then I’d be done…until tomorrow. And then the next day. And then after that, we’d be having a baby. That’s what we were here for. That’s why we were doing this.

  We were going to have a baby.

  “Tessa?”

  My head snapped up at his voice, and my shoulders slumped in relief as he came toward me. I reached my arms out to him, hopping off the table only to stumble forward, forgetting how shaky I still felt.

  “Babe, are you okay?” He grabbed me before my knees buckled completely and wrapped me in his arms, smoothing the hair off my face.

  “I don’t think I can do this, Kyle.” I was sobbing again, this time into his shirt.

  “The technologist told me you don’t like wearing the mask?”

  “It’s not just a mask, Kyle. It’s bolted to the table, covering my entire face and neck. I panicked. I shouldn’t have, but I panicked.” I hid my face against his chest.

  “Show me,” he instructed, leading me to the table.

  I pointed to the white mask sitting abandoned on top. He picked it up, turning it over. It looked tiny in his large hands, less intimidating. Kyle shifted to the technologist, motioning for her attention.

  “Ma’am, can you strap me up in this thing? Like you were doing for my wife?” he asked, maneuvering around me to sit on the table.

  “What? That’s not really...” she trailed off, confusion overtaking her expression.

  “It’s fine. It’ll just take a second, right?” He gave her a reassuring smile, handing the mask to her. “I just want to try it.”

  I stepped back and watched as he swung his feet up and lay down.

  “Okay, but only as a quick demo. Breathe normally and try not to move,” she instructed, bringing the mask against his face and neck.

  It stretched to accommodate his larger head, and his nose was more squished than mine had been. His chest rose and fell faster as the technologist fastened the bolts into place around head and neck.

  She stepped away and let me move in beside him.

  Kyle breathed out. “Fuck, this is awful.”

  At least, that’s what it sounded like he said. His voice was muffled and strained, a mash of sounds and syllables. His head was imprisoned between the table and the mask, every bit as unmoving as I’d been moments before. I glanced down at his hands, white knuckled and clutching the table’s edge.

  Slipping my fingers around his, I frowned, unsure of what to say. My big, strong marine was strapped down like a lab rat, helpless and hobbled and it was all for me. He wasn’t sick. He didn’t have to do this. He didn’t have to be a part of any of this…but he was.

  If he could do this for me, I could do it for me.

  The technologist stepped back to the table and began unfastening everything, slowly freeing him from the confines of the mesh prison. He bolted upright and rubbed his hands across his face and hair, pushing hard and massaging his skin firmly.

  I pulled his hand to mine and kissed his palm before pressing it to my cheek. “I can’t believe you just did that. You’re crazy.”

  “Yeah, well, so is whoever invented that shit.” Kyle shook his head then leaned in to kiss me, cradling my face in his palm. “If I stay here with you, do you think you can do this?”

  I nodded, summoning every ounce of courage inside me, and we traded places.

  Kyle leaned over and kissed me after I’d lain down on the table. Once the technologist stepped in, I could still just see him in my peripheral vision until she brought the mask down over my face. I closed my eyes, breathing as slowly and deeply as I could manage.

  “Babe, I’ll be with the technologist while the machine is on, but I can still see you. I’m still here,” he told me as the tech ushered him with soft words into the other room.

  I tried to nod okay, but my head was immobile. I tried to talk, but the air was gone from my lungs. Fear replaced every sense, and I fought hard to keep it from overwhelming me.

  Instead, I raised my hands, giving him shaky thumbs up. Random beeping scattered around the room and I knew the treatment had started, though little else indicated the massive levels of radiation shooting into my brain.

  They had said it wouldn’t hurt, but I had expected to feel something. There was no heat, no pressure, no pulsing…nothing except a few random beeps.r />
  I’d done some research on my treatment and knew it wasn’t devoid of side effects though. One day soon, maybe even today, I could experience symptoms as minor as a dry mouth to as serious as seizures. In about two weeks, I’d start to lose my hair, and, if lucky, I might avoid the scalp burns radiation often caused to the skin.

  I exhaled slowly through the hard plastic against my face and tried to remain calm. A tear escaped the corner of my eye, trailing down my cheek to the table below. I concentrated on its movement, feeling it cross my skin as the time slowly ticked by.

  “All done!” the technologist cheerily announced with the sound of a door swinging open roughly two minutes later.

  I held my breath, waiting for her to remove the mask, waiting to be free.

  “You did great, babe.”

  His fingers wrapped around mine and I clutched his hand like a much-needed lifeline. I still couldn’t respond—any attempt to speak was only garbled sounds.

  “Hold still, I’ll have you out of there in just a second.” The technologist’s face appeared above me as she unfastened the straps by my right ear. I wasn’t sure why she had said to stay still. Obviously, I wasn’t going anywhere.

  The moment I was free, I slid off the table, not wanting to be there a second longer than necessary.

  “That’s it, we’re all done?” I asked, massaging my neck with my hands, stretching it from side to side.

  “Yes, ma’am. The first time is always frightening, but I promise it’ll get easier each go.” The technologist gave me a warm smile then began repositioning the panels on the machine.

  “Why don’t you get changed and we’ll head home?” Kyle suggested.

  I nodded my agreement, heading for the bathroom to retrieve my clothes.

  “See you tomorrow!” the technologist cheerily called as we left.

  I hated her for it.

  All I wanted was to crawl into bed and never get up again. I hated being reminded this wasn’t a one-time thing. I hated knowing I’d be doing this nearly every day for six weeks. Then I frowned, because the truth was, I didn’t hate her or this hospital.

  I hated having cancer.

  Chapter Eight

  Wednesday, April 23, 2014

  “What about some water? Will that help?” Kyle asked me.

  I turned my head warily to look up at him. He stood in the bathroom doorway wringing his hands, a tightness in his face.

  “I wouldn’t keep that down either.” I groaned, tilting back over the toilet as I vomited again.

  I’d spent much of the last three weeks, and all of today, worshipping the porcelain throne and sacrificing my stomach contents to it. Today was by far the worst my nausea had been, and as the evening ticked by, there were still no signs of relief.

  “I’m going to call the doctor and see if you can take more anti-nausea meds.”

  “I can’t take it more than twice a day,” I reminded him.

  “But you threw it up. They have to have something for you.” His tone was so forlorn, so hopeless. “This is the worst I’ve seen you yet.”

  I wanted to say it would be okay, that they’d warned us about side effects, but I felt as helpless as he looked.

  The first week hadn’t been so bad. I still had energy and managed to go to work every day after my morning treatments. Elly had still been on spring break, so she had accompanied me to each appointment, and most of the time my dad did, too. Kyle had to work so he was there only for the first treatment, but when he came home, he waited on my every need.

  Elly had had to return to New York for school before the second week, but she called daily to check on me. She’d come again once the semester ended in May and spend the summer with me, which I looked forward to. In a way, I was glad she had left when she did, sparing her from seeing me at my worst. Each week the side effects of radiation worsened, hitting me harder, and I spent most days either vomiting or curled in bed with headaches.

  My boss gave me short-term disability leave until my treatments would end and I recover from the final surgery. I had wanted to keep working, but it had quickly become unmanageable with my symptoms. Dr. Page had warned that radiation on the head often came with severe symptoms, but I still hadn’t expected it to become my entire day in, day out.

  It hadn’t just consumed my life, either, but my family’s, too. It was in the third week that I saw Kyle crying. I’d rarely seen him cry before, but there he was standing over the sink staring out at our tiny patch of a back yard with tears streaming down his face. He didn’t know I had walked in or was watching him, and he didn’t know I knew I’d caused those tears.

  Some days I wondered if I could send my family away, so they wouldn’t have to watch me get sicker and sicker. I saw the memories of my mother’s illness in my father’s eyes. When he looked at me, I saw her and I hated every reminder, but cherished every moment I got to spend with her in his mind. I knew this was tougher on him than I’d ever understand.

  I didn’t want to put any of them through this, but Kyle kept reminding me it was only for a few more weeks. He clung to the timeline as if it were the only thing grounding him, as if he could get through this only if he knew there was an end in sight. We were all counting down the days until the treatments ended in May, collectively holding our breaths.

  “Dr. Page says we need to come in right away.” Kyle reappeared in the doorway two minutes later, mid-heave as I curled over the toilet bowl, stomach bile all I had left.

  He rushed forward and pulled the hair off my shoulders, keeping it from falling into the line of fire. I continued to vomit for a few more seconds, my shoulders shaking and my stomach clenching.

  When the worst was over, Kyle offered me a wash cloth with his free hand, and I wiped my mouth clean as I sat back on my heels.

  “Oh,” Kyle said, sounding shocked as he released my hair and stared at his hands.

  I followed his gaze to see a thick clump of my long, brown hair dangling from his fingers.

  He began to stammer apologetically. “Tessa, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  “It’s fine. That’s not the first time.” I waved it off, pulling up to my feet and grabbing my toothbrush.

  I didn’t want to look him in the eyes. If I did, I’d most certainly cry. I’d been losing hair for a week, but it had been light at first. Just small wisps here and there, then a little more each day. My hair was thinning and there was still a bald patch on one side, but it didn’t look too ghastly yet.

  Yet.

  The last two days had changed this hope. It was falling out in chunks now, and I’d tried to hide it from Kyle with a hair band or a strategic ponytail, but it was quickly becoming futile.

  His stricken expression stared at me in the mirror while I brushed my teeth, so I closed my eyes.

  “Um, Dr. Page says we should get you on an IV of liquids and some anti-nausea medicine, so you can’t throw up the medications,” Kyle quietly explained before exiting the bathroom.

  I could hear him rummaging around in our bedroom drawers as I finished brushing my teeth, probably packing a bag for me.

  “I think that was the last of it. I’ll be fine,” I assured him as I walked out of the bathroom, holding the wall for support. The room was spinning around me, but I refused to admit this to him.

  “The hell you are.” He frowned at me, zipping closed a duffel bag on the bed. “You need fluids to replenish everything you lost today, and you look dazed.”

  “Just a little lightheaded. It’s really not a big deal. I probably just need to sleep.”

  “No, we’re going to the hospital. The meds you’re on, plus the radiation? It’s no joke, Tessa. We need to make sure your body has the help it needs.” He swung the duffel bag over one of his shoulders and wrapped his other arm around my waist.

  “Fine.” I leaned into him, inhaling his natural musk that had always comforted me.

  Until this second.

  Suddenly, a felt a burning in the back of my throat as my
stomach churned and threatened to return to my mouth. I dashed back to the bathroom and prayed to God I’d make it in time. I heaved over the toilet with an intensity that made me feel like all my insides were about to abandon ship.

  Calming down, I wiped my mouth with tissue paper after the worst of it had passed and sat back on my heels. Tears stung my eyes, not out of sadness, but because the force of my sickness overwhelmed me. I tried to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, but too many strands fell away, tangling in my fingers instead.

  “Babe?” Kyle was hovering again.

  “Can I have some water?” I croaked out, sounding aptly exhausted.

  He turned to leave, but I reached for him. I needed something to hold. Everything was moving. I was moving.

  I was falling.

  Black.

  “Tessa!”

  • ღ • ღ • ღ •

  Friday, April 25, 2014

  “We can keep her here the rest of the day for observation, but honestly, she’d do better at home with her nausea under control now and fluids back up. I’d like to arrange for a nurse to come by your house daily for at least the next week to check on her and administer an IV.” An older male voice hovered somewhere above me, but I kept my eyes closed and my breathing slow as if I were still sleeping.

  “So, she would be hooked up to all this stuff at home?” This voice definitely belonged to Kyle.

  “Yes, she needs to stay fully hydrated to have the best chance to fight the cancer. She needs to be at her best.”

  “She is fighting it. She fights it every day, doc. You haven’t seen her like I have, but she is fighting like hell.” Kyle sounded mad, making me feel bad for the other man.

  Sometimes I liked to make Kyle angry on purpose, my insides clenching deliciously at the reminder of how his jaw tightened and his eyes flamed, all while he never for a moment lost control. But I did…and I loved it. All the times we’d spent wrapped around each other, him pressed deeply inside me. I never once considered it might be the last, never once thought maybe our days were numbered. That my days were numbered.