Cancer Sucks

"How have I never seen this movie before?"

"I honestly don't know. I always thought that you had, so I was really confused when you said you hadn't. I'm guessing you liked it then?" I asked brimming with excitement. Please say you like it, it's one of my favorites. Please, please, please be proud of my weird taste in film.

"You want my honest opinion?" He slowly breathed out and gave me a sideways glance. I vigorously nodded in response. He sighed and closed his eyes, as I held my breath in anticipation for his answer. Silence.

"Sam?" I quietly prodded. "Saaaaam?" Still no answer. He had fallen asleep, again.

I sighed. I should have known. It was never easy having a conversation with him after he pressed the button needed for physical relief. I never knew what to expect when he did that. Sometimes he'd have vivid hallucinations I'd have to bring him out of, or play along with, just long enough to get him to sleep. And sometimes he'd simply pass out. I never minded when he did that, I thought to myself as I watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful. There was no pain when he slept, or at least it didn't seem that way.

I furrowed my brows and tried to get my mind off of that. He's sleeping, and he's happy for now.

Beep....... Beep…… Beep……

The strangely, at times, calming alarms from the numerous monitors surrounding his bed were becoming noticeable again. Think of something else, anything else.

I got up from the always uncomfortable hospital room chair, and walked over to the window that practically took up an entire wall. The sun was going down and the last of its light glistened on the snow-covered landscape. "So, this is the New Year?" I whispered to myself recalling lyrics to one of our favorite songs.

Beep……. Beep……. Beep…...

I felt something wet slide down my cheek. Don't cry, not here, you need to stay strong. I tried to reprimand myself, but it was no use. I wept silently and turned to look at my brother hooked up to those awful, yet necessary machines that were literally keeping him alive. He was still sleeping thank God. I wiped the tears from my cheeks with the long sleeves of my zip-up hoodie.

"God, I hate this place," I spoke through the soft noises of beeping machinery.

"Me too sis, me too." A gasp left my throat as I turned to look at my brother who still had his eyes closed.

"Sam? When the heck did you wake up!?" I practically yelled at him from the shock of his unexpected response.

"The whole time," he opened his eyes and I could see the faint shimmer of tears beginning to swell in the dying light. They started to fall. "I'm so, so sorry sis," he slowly breathed out as he closed his eyes one last time.

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

I froze.

This sound. The dreaded alarm indicating a loved one’s departure from this earth. A sound that no living soul ever wants to hear.

No.

No no no no no no no.

Why is this happening? Why can’t I breathe? Why aren’t you breathing? Not. Like. This.

I couldn’t speak. I tried to scream out to the nurses for help, but when I opened my mouth, there was nothing. No sound but the blood rushing to my head, and the horrible endless beep from the heart monitor. I wanted nothing more than to destroy it because it was lying. It had to be lying.

But it wasn’t. The nurses rushed in and time slowed to a snails pace. This was happening. I was losing my brother and the world would continue on as if nothing had changed.

He never finished telling me whether he liked the movie or not.

I felt my body begin to shake in disbelief, as my legs gave way beneath me. A pair of strong arms wrapped around my back, and held me in place so I didn’t hurt myself on impact with the ground. It didn’t matter. No pain could phase me now.

Within seconds the nurses had surrounded my brother’s body, trying desperately to revive him, as one continued to keep me in a vice-like grip attempting to contain my situation. It couldn’t stop the terror that came in waves. Holding me in place only served to make this reality more tangible, and all I wanted was to escape it.

The nurse, holding me from behind, began to speak to me in calming hushed tones. “It’s going to be okay, breathe through it. Just breathe.”

How dare they tell me it’s going to be okay!? None of this is okay!

In my anger my breathing became erratic, almost in defiance of their suggestions. The nurse responded to this change in behavior with a tighter embrace. They were so close to me now I could smell them, and somehow it was so familiar to me.

I know this smell. Why do I know this smell?

Their arms fastened around me more gently now as the nurse tried desperately to comfort me. “I know you probably can’t hear me, but please try to wake up. Stay with me. Please.”

Why are they talking like this? Why do I recognize this voice?

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

The alarm continued on, and everything became so blurry and confusing. The hospital lights began to fade as the nurses blended together around my brother’s bed, and my vision became hazy. The only constants were the consistent beep, and the arms that snaked around my waist holding me close to their owner.

In moments I felt a heaviness lift from my eyes, as if I was regaining consciousness. I felt the arms around me give me a slight shake, and just like that, I was awake.

The memories came flooding back, as the remnants of the vivid nightmare dissipated. There were tears streaming down my face, covering my pillow in wet pools. I sloppily wiped the tears away from my eyes, and realized that the loud beeping noise in my apparent nightmare, was coming from the alarm clock by my bed. I quickly reached for the shut off button, but was held back by those strong arms still wrapped around my torso.

I turned my body to face the one holding me there, and was met with my husband’s eyes. They were wrought with concern.

“Hey hon'", my voice cracked in a feeble attempt to reassure him. "It’s okay. I’m awake now. You can let go.” He nodded, and slowly removed his arms from my waist, as if he was afraid I would break into a million pieces when he finally let go.

When his arms released, I turned back around to end the cursed noise of the alarm clock. Then I faced my husband once more.

He regarded me carefully before asking what it was that gave me such an awful night terror. My thoughts drifted back to the dream. To the memory of my brother.

It’s been several years, and I still dream about his death. When will this nightmare end?

"It's nothing,” I replied, tired of explaining the same dream over and over to him. “Just another memory nightmare," I placed my hands in his, as he wove his fingers through mine squeezing my hand in understanding. I knew that he would know what it was about. He always knew, and he never judged me for it. He was an expert at mending my brokenness now.

We lay in bed quietly for what seemed like eternity, before I exhaled slowly breathing out the last of the nightmare's effects. "Grief never really goes away does it? No matter how long it's been," I asked, fully knowing the answer having lived it.

He shook his head, indicating that grief is forever, and then laid it on my shoulder. I sighed still wishing my brother was here, hurt that he would never get to meet this caring and gentle man that laid beside me. "Cancer really sucks."