The darkness of her once warm living room matched the circles under her eyes, which felt chalky; she’d cried so much. Her mind was cluttered with a thousand ideas; none of which could complete themselves. They merely trailed off one dead-end after another. She was adrift on her own sofa; lost in a sea of fear, desperation and disbelief.
She blamed him of course. He’d uttered those words and broken her world apart. He’d stolen her dreams and simple aspirations only to replace them carelessly with gut wrenching fear and panic. He came out of nowhere. He attempted to give her comfort, reassurance and yes, hope. But there had been a trickle of doubt and now it was too late. She needed him, depended on him. He held her fate and future in his hands. She felt powerless, guilty that she’d given him control so easily.
She thought about running away but that would only hurt herself. He’d win. She thought about screaming at him until the anger subsided. But she was SO full of hate and stunned by his matter-of-fact-ness, she knew she’d only dissolve into pathetic self-pitying tears. She would NOT cry in front of him. She had her dignity she reassured herself and grinned sheepishly through bleary eyes at her blue fuzzy slippers and dancing teddy bear jammies.
“What am I supposed to do NOW?” she wailed into the pillow. She was begging, no demanding God give her an answer. She stomped her feet and managed only to stir up fresh, hot tears. She dug her nails furiously into her palms, her breath hitching in her raw throat. She was sobbing so hard there was no sound left. She choked back repetitious “Why’s” and “How could you’s” for no one was listening. She reminded herself she was alone. Only the moon was there to helplessly stare and witness her breakdown. She made him promise to never tell a soul.
She rocked back and forth hugging herself; wishing she’d never met him. Regretting that she’d even seen him. It was his entire fault. Well, she thought, he’d have to step up and take some responsibility. He’d have to see her and they would talk and she would make him see that he owed her this….time and certainly effort. A small ember began to burn with courage instead of fear in the pit of her stomach. She sniffed and began to give direction to the wild thoughts scratching around in her head. He thought he was so smart; he’d have to come up with some answers. She’d demand not from God, but from this man who thought he was His equivalent. She was strong enough to see him once more.
The sun peeked cautiously into morning. Clouds winked and made way for her as she boldly drove to him. Her heart thumped anxiously but she remained focused. She arrived and felt her insides go hot with fear, no, terror. Her knees threatened to give out if she got out of that car to see him; even once more. But she heaved her body from the seat and coaxed it along to his door. She muttered and practiced her speech. She was ushered in and asked to sit. Her legs knocked together nervously begging her to make a run for it. Her tongue was thick and her scalp was prickly. Her armpits were sticky. “You will do this.” She whispered to every nerve in her body through tight lips. “God, give me the strength to do this and not vomit. Amen” she hummed to herself.
The door opened and he appeared, smiling. His hand beckoned her with that charm and promise. All resolve drained quickly to her toes, along with her color. Her mouth was full of sawdust and she gripped her forearms as if she were naked in the arctic during a blizzard. She shook almost uncontrollably. He sat down across from her and touched her gently.
“Please. Relax. Let’s talk about your treatment. You can win this battle. I will help you but you are the one who has to fight the hardest. We’ve found it and we’ll stop it. You can turn this cancer around.”
She smiled weakly at her doctor. Her speech was lost. Her thoughts had vanished and left her entire body hollow. “Turn it around.” She echoed and that little ember of courage began to glow brighter with each breath she gave it.
