And Then Death Held Out His Hand

Loosing It

Echo and her family went home this morning. Echo was pumped full of medicines so that she feels no pain and can walk out of here on her own two feet.
It's not the same if you leave knowing it's all for nothing, because you haven't conquered anything, you've just prolonged your own funeral. I wonder if that's all I'm doing now.

Today Christine is coming to visit. It's been quiet since Jacob and Echo left, as if the last of my happiness went with them. The sun dimmed in that moment.

It's hard facing people in my hospital gown and unbrushed, birds nest hair. I long to wear normal clothes again, to walk and fuss over my hair and makeup. So today, I decide to do my hair properly for in what feels like weeks.
I stare at the brush in my hands, thinking of the one feature that all people like with cancer. The shaved, hairless heads.

I take a big breath, close my eyes and drag the brush through the tangle of nots on my head. I crack open my eyes and dare to peer at my brush.

It's full of clumps of hair. I hold my breath, willing it to be a dream. A nightmare. It doesn't go away. The strands of blonde hair makes me realise that I'm like all the other cancer patients. That I have as little hope as them. I reach up with trembling fingers too feel my head. There it is. A bare spot, the size of a golf ball is missing.

I'm still in shock when the nurse comes in too change my IV bag. Her face drops as she sees the look of horror on my face and the hair filled brush in my lap.
"Oh honey, I'm sorry."
I can't even respond.
I feel the bed sink as the nurse sits beside me. Tears silently drop down my face, making the hair damp.
"If you want, we can shave it, I mean, it's the craze here."
I nod slowly, the tears coming faster now, hot, furious sobs shaking my body, as all the resentment of the past few weeks pours out of me.
The nurse strokes my head gently as she pulls me into a hug. Even with my eyes squeezed shut, I can tell the small motion is dislodging more hair.

The razor hums as it cuts close to my head. My hands shake with fear as my last hook on my old, normal life is cut from me. I can't stop the images of Christine's and Evie's faces as they see my bare head. Knowing Christine, she'll say that she was weighing up getting the same cut, that it's the new look in all the magazines. I start to smile, almost hysterical as the truth settles upon me. I have no hair.

-------------------

"Love the new look!"
I open my now dry eyes to see Christine in the doorway. Her bright smile is all I need to push away the bad thoughts and laugh along with her.
It returns to normal, the usual gossip filling the room, stories of school life and the new hot boy she's got her eye on. For a while, we're back in her bedroom, sprawled out on the floor, bowls of snacks in between us.

"What about you, any hot patients here?"
She says it with such a goofy look on her face that we both crack up laughing.
"Well, there is this one boy, his sister has leukaemia." I don't know what Jacob thinks of me, I'm probably just someone to talk too.

Christine drills me with questions, until she knows Jacob better than I do. She's jittery with excitement, eyes wide as I describe him and the times we've spent together. She considers herself as an expert on this topic, having dated half our grade.

It's only when visiting hours ends that the spell breaks, our laugh stopping abruptly as the bell signals 5:00. The mood changes as she leans down to hug me.
"Keep that boy around, I want to meet him someday, when he's your boyfriend."
------------

Dinner tastes like cardboard as usual. The effort of moving the fork from the plate to my mouth is too much that I have to stop with my plate half full. The sky outside darkens from purple to black as the stars brighten against the velvety sky. Today I was able to forget the illness I possess, the cancer that rules my life. I fall asleep hoping for more days like this, not even thinking of my bare, shaved head.