Tag Archives: cancer

Okay, what now?

The verdict is out, the diagnosis is certain, the sentence is given. Six to twelve months, no parole.

What do you now?

You wait. You wait for the signs that it’s growing; for the pain to increase; for the hints that it’s gotten worse. 

You grasp life with both hands, hold on as hard as you can. Every night when you go to bed, you pray the next day will be as good as the one that’s just over; that it won’t take a turn for the worse.

You make plans for the next few days, hoping all goes well. Take advantage of each minute, each hour, each day everything’s still okay, manageable, acceptable.

You live with the constant fear for what tomorrow may bring. What if time’s cut short? What if you don’t get to do that one last thing you craved so much?

The unfairness of it all eats at you but you don’t let it win. You fight it and think of good things; of all that’s left, of all you still need to say. You write it down in case you forget, so they’ll find it after you’re gone.

And everyone around you waits with you. Worries about you but won’t let you see, just in case it drags you down. Everyone’s pasting smiles on their faces, puts cheer in their voices to keep you from sensing their anguish. No one talks about death. No one talks about the end. 

Your children are stuck waiting, anticipating, expecting the hurt to be dragged on through the months of doing everything one last time, knowing it, and holding off on expressing the pain.

Because once you’re gone, they’ll only have pain left: hope will  leave with you. Then they can mourn and let loose and grieve. You won’t be there to see it and that’s okay. You know it’s coming anyway.

Cancer’s a motherfucker.

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Where’s my mind?

I think I left it in the washing machine.

Because it’s all soggy, washed out, dripping ideas down the drain.

It was so much fun taking ADHD meds called Vyvanse around Christmas time. I wrote and wrote and wrote.

I could write from 6 p.m. to midnight non-stop, words just flowing on the page – I would write so fast I left out some words. I wrote emotion, sex, descriptions. I could literally see the story unfold in my mind.

I asked my friend to read it for me and give me her opinions and ideas for changes.

I asked another friend to read a scene because she could be one of the characters.

Both gave me encouragement and praise.

My husband read the whole fifteen chapters and even if it’s a subject he’d never read on his own, he liked it. He also had ideas, caught mistakes and gave me praise.

Unfortunately, the meds also made me anxious and cut down my attention span to that of a gnat’s so I had to stop taking them.

And I stopped writing. Almost completely. Look at my latest postings on this blog and you’ll see what I’m talking about.

While weaning off the meds, my mom was diagnosed with inoperable pancreatic cancer, hence the post 3 months to live.

Now I’m taking another type of meds, Strattera, which are not working well so far. They leave me feeling depressed, desperate and sad. They don’t even lighten the ADHD symptoms yet – they take weeks before showing any improvement and I haven’t even reached the proper dosage yet – still implementing them gradually.

This is my second attempt at writing in almost a month – see here for the first one.

I read a post by Chuck Wendig, this writer I follow, who said we have to write everyday, even on days when we don’t feel like it. So here I am, writing.

The effort has given me a headache. Should have put my brain in the delicate cycle.

Flash Fiction Goodreads MM Romance Group

The prompt was:

While MC1 is visiting his parents for a family crisis, his boyfriend MC2 comes to support him. MC1 hasn’t told his family about him, though. Awkward! 

Here’s my contribution:

“I have to go home. I’ll call you later,” said Jeff quickly, his hand on Max’s office door. He was holding his jacket, obviously on his way out.

“Are you sick?” asked Max.

“No, it’s my dad. I have to go home. My mom called me.”

“I’ll drive you. I was almost finished here anyway,” Max got up from behind his desk and grabbed his jacket.

“No, it’s alright. I’ll take a cab,” Jeff said, already walking away.

“Wait!” yelled Max. “I’ll drive you so we can talk.”

In the car, Jeff looked out the window while Max drove towards Jeff’s parents’ house. He had never been there. They didn’t know about him. Jeff hadn’t even told them he was gay. He suspected they already knew.

“So what happened?”

“They found a tumor yesterday during a routine check-up. Today he found out he’ll need surgery fast and it might not be enough. My mom is freaking out. She called my sister too.”

“I’m so sorry.” Max reached out and grabbed Jeff’s hand. Their fingers curled together. “Is there anything else they can do?”

Jeff chocked on a sob. “They have to meet the oncologist in two days. I’ll know more when I get there,” he sniffed. Max squeezed Jeff’s hand. They rode in silence the rest of the way.

“Just over here, the red door,” Jeff said, pointing to his parents’ house.

“Good luck. I’ll wait in the car.” Max let go of Jeff’s hand and turned off the motor.

Jeff  just sat there, his hand on the door handle. He looked so sad it broke Max’s heart.

“Can you come in with me?”

Max was surprised by the question. “Uhm… is that a good idea? What are you gonna say?”

“That you’re my friend and you drove me. I don’t care. I just need you.” Jeff looked up at him with watery eyes.

“Of course I’ll come in.”

They both got out of the car and headed towards the door, which opened as soon as they reached it.

“Jeff,  I’m so glad you could come” said the person who had to be his mother. Jeff walked into her open arms and they hugged. Max stood a couple of steps behind him, feeling a bit awkward.

“Oh, hello, come on in,” said Jeff’s mother when she saw him.

“Hello Mrs. Peters,” Max said, his hand outstretched.

“Mom, this is Max. He drove me,” said Jeff. “Max, this is my mother.” They shook hands.

“Call me Julia. Come on in.”

As they entered the house, they could hear voices in the kitchen. Jeff was following his mom and he stretched his hand out behind him for Max to touch. Max brushed Jeff’s fingers lightly.

A man looking distraught sat at the kitchen table, presumably Jeff’s dad. A tall, pregnant woman with the same blond hair as Jeff was pouring coffee in mugs at the counter.

When they walked in the kitchen, Jeff’s dad got up and hugged his son. Jeff started crying on his father’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dad,” he sobbed.

Max stood in the doorway,  not knowing what his role was. This was an intimate family crisis and he felt like the intruder that he was. He had never met these people. They didn’t even know he was in a serious relationship with their son. Watching Jeff break down in his father’s arms, he realized they needed to have a serious talk about where their relationship was going. But this was not about him, he knew that. He was here for Jeff, whatever Jeff needed. If he required him to act like just a friend, then so be it. There would be time for revelations later.

When they disengaged, Jeff’s dad noticed Max and was startled. He took a step away from his son, seemingly embarrassed.

“Oh, Dad, this is my friend Max. He drove me,” Jeff explained. “Max, this is my dad, and this,” pointing to the woman with the coffee mugs, “is my sister Kelly.”

“Hello Max,” said Jeff’s dad softly, uncomfortable that a stranger had witnessed his emotional reunion with his son.

“Hi Max, it’s nice to meet you,” said Kelly, coming to shake his hand.

“It’s nice to meet all of you. I’m just sorry it’s under such sad circumstances,” said Max, shaking her hand. “I’m sorry, Sir, if there’s anything I can do,” he said, turning to Jeff’s father.

“Thank you, Max, for driving Jeff. We really appreciate it.” Jeff’s dad still looked uncomfortable. He turned to his son. “Jeff, why don’t you walk your friend out. I’m sure he’s got more interesting things to do tonight,” he said, smiling faintly. Julia smiled wanly at Max, twisting her fingers.

“Of course. I’m sorry for intruding, Mr. and Mrs. Peters.” Max quickly turned around and headed back down the hallway. He knew this was a bad idea.

“Max, wait!” Jeff called out. Turning to his parents, he said: “Mom, Dad, Kelly, there’s something I have to tell you. Max isn’t only a friend.”

Hearing those words, Max stopped in the middle of the hallway, his heart in his throat.

Jeff walked up behind him and took his hand. “It’s alright, baby. Come on,” he said softly.

When they came back to the kitchen, both Jeff’s parents looked stunned and his sister was smiling.

“Max, would you like some coffee? I was just pouring some,” Kelly said to Max with a twinkle in her eye.

Max just nodded, not sure what he was supposed to do. He was just going to follow Jeff’s lead.

“Jeff?” his mom asked, her face wide with surprise.

“I know this is an awful time to bring it up and my timing sucks, but Max is my boyfriend and I really need him with me. Is that alright?” Jeff looked to be on the verge of tears again. Max just looked at the floor, waiting for someone’s reaction.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Kelly said in a sing-song voice. She brought a tray of coffee mugs to the table and sat down. “Come on, the coffee’s getting cold.”

Julia was the first to recover from her shock. “Please, Max, sit down,” she said, pointing to a chair. “Jeff, we’ll talk about this more some other time, but for now I’ll just say I’m happy you found someone.” She looked at her son with determination and, yes, a hint of affection.

Jeff’s father, on the other hand, was not so forthcoming. He just stood there, stunned and angry.

“Are you trying to tell me you’re gay and this is your boyfriend? On the day I find out I have cancer?” His voice was raised by the time he finished.

Max just stood there, not moving. He noticed Kelly’s eyes rolling. Jeff looked crestfallen.

“Stan, calm down,” Julia said to her husband. She walked up to him and put a hand on his arm. “It’s not so surprising, is it? Come on, we have more to talk about,” she said gently.

“Yeah, Dad, it’s not like we weren’t expecting it, is it? Come on, tell us what the doctor said. That’s what I want to talk about,” Kelly said.

Stan sighed, shaking his head. “You know, Jeff,  we suspected for a while now that maybe girls weren’t your thing. But to spring this on us at a time like this, I have to say I’m disappointed. You could’ve told us before. How long has this been going on?” he asked, still standing, staring at his son.

Jeff turned towards Max. “We’ve been together six months now. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I was afraid you’d be mad,” he said sheepishly.

“I can’t say I’m thrilled, but cancer pretty much stole your thunder, son,” Stan said. He finally sat down, took a cup of coffee and started fixing it with sugar and milk. He looked up at Max and said: “Come on, sit down. Have some coffee,” he gestured to the mugs.

“Thank you,” muttered Max. This is not how he thought they’d come out to Jeff’s parents. He felt terrible. “I’m sorry we’re springing this on you at such a bad time,” he apologized. “If you’d prefer for me to leave, just say so,” he added.

“No, please, stay,” Jeff said, grabbing his hand. “It’s okay, right?” he asked his parents.

“Sure, sit down, Max,” offered Julia. Both guys sat next to each other. Jeff reached for Max’s hand under the table. Just knowing he was there made him feel a little better.

Julia sat next to Kelly and pulled a mug toward her. “I’m sorry Max, I know this is awkward. I wish we would’ve met before this,” she said, pinching her lips.

“We’ll grill him some other time,” Kelly said, smiling. Turning to her father, she asked: “Okay, what did the doctor say?”

They talked about the tumor; the urgency of removing it and the possible treatments but much was up in the air still until they met with the oncologist.

The whole time, Max remained silent, letting the family talk. He rubbed Jeff’s hand with his thumb to comfort him, but that was the extent of his involvement. Observing Jeff with his family, he noticed the brother and sister had a warm, affectionate relationship. They were both on good terms with their parents or, if not,  differences were put aside for the time being. Max had never seen Jeff so vulnerable. His questions betrayed his worry and anxiety and the answers weren’t reassuring much. Kelly seemed the calmer one, taking the information for what it was, not more, not less. Her attitude leaned more toward not worrying about stuff they didn’t know or couldn’t control. Sometimes she would catch Max’s eye and wink or smile at him. This made him feel a little less uncomfortable.

When there was nothing else to say about Stan’s health, Julia put both her palms down on the table.

“Okay, who’s hungry? I have a huge frozen lasagna I can stick in the oven,” she said, looking around at everyone.

“I have to get home. Bob’s waiting for me to put Kyle to bed,” Kelly said. She stood up, putting a hand at the small of her back. “I’ll go with you to meet the surgeon if you don’t mind,” she said to her dad.

“Sure, that’d be great,” Stan said, smiling for the first time in a while. “Thanks,” he said, getting up and pulling her in a hug.

“I can go too. I’ll ask for the time off,” Jeff said.

His dad turned to him. “Great, I’d like that,” he said, smiling at his son.

Jeff turned to Max. “Mr. Stevens won’t mind, do you think?”

“Just tell him why you need the time, I’m sure he’ll accommodate you,” Max assured him.

“You guys work together?” Julia asked.

“Yeah, that’s where we met,” Jeff smiled,  looking at Max fondly.

“They don’t frown on that?” Stan asked.

Jeff’s back stiffed. “No, Dad, they don’t frown on gays,” he answered tightly.

“I didn’t mean because you’re gay, Jeff. I meant they don’t have a non-fraternization policy or something like that?”

Jeff’s shoulders’ dropped. He didn’t meet his dad’s eyes. “Oh. No, they don’t care as long as you do the work. The president and the office manager are a couple, so…” he smirked.

“Is anyone up for lasagna?” Julia asked.

Jeff turned to Max. “Do you mind if we stay?”

“I’d love to,” Max smiled at him. “If that’s alright with you,” he added, turning to Julia.

“Of course it’s alright. It’ll give us a chance to chat and talk about something else,” Julia answered, smiling. She went to the freezer and started preparing dinner.

“Are you a programmer too?” Stan asked Max. They started discussing work so Jeff walked his sister out. She grabbed his arm. “I’m so happy for you! Plus he’s hot,” she whispered in his ear.

“Yeah, he is. He’s great. I’m glad you met him,” Jeff said, hugging his sister.

“Will you be alright?” she asked him, a concerned look replacing the joyful one.

Jeff felt his heart stutter. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. I just feel bad for Dad. He’s not gonna have fun anytime soon.”

“Call me if you want to talk and try not to worry about what you can’t help,” Kelly said, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah, thanks. Kiss Kyle for me.”

“Will do. Have a nice dinner with Max and the folks,” Kelly said, then left.

Jeff walked back towards the kitchen, hearing Max and his dad talking. Relief fought with worry inside his gut. His dad was really sick, but at least he wasn’t going to deal with it alone. He had Max.

3 months to live

What would you do with 3 months to live? If you only had three months left of your time on this earth, what would be essential for you to accomplish in such a short time?

Would you travel? Finish that book you started (the one you’re writing, not reading)? Would you sell all your stuff and move to Florida? Would you write letters to all your loved ones? Would you run naked in the street just because no one would press charges against the lady with the deadly cancer? Would you rob a bank ’cause you wouldn’t be around for sentencing? Would you buy an expensive car with your life savings ’cause your kids will be able to sell it after you die anyways? 

Would you think of all the things you’ll miss? Like your grandchildren’s proms, and weddings? That movie you wanted to see that will only come out next year, after you’re gone? The ending to the Vampire Diaries? The next book of your favourite series? Knowing what your grandkids want to do when they grow up? Organise a last Christmas celebration, fuck whatever date it is?

Would you cry and rage and curse fate for throwing such a fucking wrench in your gear? Would you rant and cry about the injustice of it all? Would you wonder ‘why me’? Would you think back on your life to see what you did to deserve this?

Would you tell your children you love them everyday until you can’t anymore? Would you touch your spouse every chance you get? Would you make love more? Would you stay in bed and make cookie crumbs? Would you have a fling? Would you have a threesome? Would you finally tell that person (you know who) what you really thought of them? Would you write to your old boss to give him shit? Would you contact ‘the one that got away’? 

Would you make your funeral arrangements? Would you put all your affairs in order? Would you make a will? Would you start giving away your stuff to make sure it goes to whomever you want it to go to? 

Would you make a list of things that you never got a chance to do and burn it? Would you make peace with yourself? With others? Would you ask for forgiveness while you still have the chance? Would you make a list of regrets and burn that too? 

Would you be grateful to live up to four months? If so, would you regret cashing in your RRSP’s and buying that stupid car? 

I hope my mom gets to do everything she wants to do with the months left in her life,whether it’s 3, 6, 9 or 12. And I hope she dies of a quick and painless heart attack, right before the cancer wins.