When I Die [Wattys 2016]

Chapter 33: Home Again

The next day, I told Dr. Ballard of my intentions. He'd come in to administer medicine and do his rounds. My mom sat beside me, knitting.
"How are you feeling today, Leo?" He asked, just like every day.
I wasn't feeling bad, honestly. It was better than I'd been in weeks. I knew that was because they'd stopped administering radiation, not because of a miracle.
"I want to go home, Doctor," I'd answered instead.
My mom dropped her knitting needle, she looked at Dr. Ballard with a bewildered look, then at me. Dr. Ballard lifted his eyebrows.
"Are you sure, Leo?"
I took in a breath, thinking for a second. It was so hard, it was only getting harder to breathe, to think.
"I'm sure," I nodded.
My mom held a hand over her mouth in shock.
"Leo..." She whispered.
I hadn't run it by her because I knew she'd try to talk me out of it. I knew this would be harder on her than anything else. I couldn't do that to her. I didn't want her to have to make the decision.
A long time before the cancer got really bad, I'd vowed to myself that I would do everything in my power to make sure it never came down to her making the decision of whether to keep me alive or let me go. I couldn't make her do that. I'd tap out long before it came to that, if possible.
This was it. It was only getting worse. There was no getting better. I reminded myself of this over and over.
My pain would ease. I might be able to move around. I could probably go to the movies. Maybe I could finish my senior year.
School had been such a black spot in the back of my mind. The school had told us that our options were either homeschooling or online classes. My mom had opted for online, and I did too, after all, I wanted to be able to find work one day, and being homeschooled by Jackie Hendricks was not the best route for that.
And so I'd been completing my online classes. It had been so difficult at times, but my teachers were understanding and worked well with me. For the last several weeks, I'd been unable to do my work, and they allowed me to make it up when I could.
Finals week was quickly approaching, and I was caught up, thankfully.
I wanted to graduate.
That evening, Dr. Ballard filed the discharge paperwork. My mom packed up my things and my dad came to help load them, and me, into the car.
I'd hobbled out to the car, waving a dismissive hand at the wheelchair they offered. I could make it. I wanted to show them I could make it.
I wanted my going home to be about living, not dying.
My dad helped pack me into my mom's car. I rattled out a few shaky breaths. The exertion was certainly more than I'd bargained for. My dad held my gaze through the car window, and then, to my surprise, he leaned in and kissed my forehead.
"I am proud of you, son," he said, and he held the back of my head.
It took me by such surprise, and I looked like an idiot with my mouth open. I was trying to process what was happening, but it was so much, all at once.
"Thank you," I said simply.
He nodded, then, gripping the door for a moment, smiled at my mom and I. My mom helped me buckle and then pulled the car into drive as my dad passed through the parking lot to his own vehicle.
As we pulled through the parking lot and out to the exit of the hospital, my mom sucked in a deep sigh.
"Are you ready for this?"
She waited on my reply.
I looked around at the world outside, green grass and blue skies which stood in stark contrast to my pale, sickly skin and the ache in my chest. But something, squished between the aching and the fear, made me excited. I was nervous, but so excited.
That thing, I decided, was hope.

"Yeah. Let's go home," I said.
And she pulled out onto the street towards home.

Coming back home was weird, to say the least. I was so sure I'd die in the hospital. I tried to keep my feelings in check. I never wanted to make my family afraid. I always wanted to make sure they were my first priority. I loved them, these weird, silly people who made up everything I ever knew. I never wanted to make them hurt. I hated that I would hurt them by dying, but I'd done everything I could about that. I wanted to minimize the damage. I wanted to be home with them.

Aaron helped me inside. It was the first time I'd seen Little Leo in weeks, and he was so big. His cheeks filled out nicely, trapping drool and making him look so big. He was sitting up now, babbling and becoming more and more a person, less alien, every day. He laughed a hearty belly laugh when you even looked at him funny or said his name.
The house more or less looked the same. It was clean. Everything had been sterilized. I couldn't imagine how my mom was running around before I came home, probably yelling and spraying Lysol until she couldn't think straight from the fumes.
Lara was on the chair and got up to make room for me on the couch. She picked up Leo and held him so I could see him as I sat down.
"Sam, off the games," my mom scolded, "go grab Leo's bag from the car please."
Sam was in the recliner playing video games on the TV. He obliged. He was getting older. He was better at complying now.
"Okay. Hey Leo, I'm glad you're home." He said, heading out the front door.
I relaxed back into the sofa and exhaled sharply. My back ached, but outside of that, I felt okay. It was the first time in a while I'd felt okay.
"Leo, it's good to have you home, and we're so happy to see you," Lara said sweetly. She bent down and gave me a kiss on the cheek and a hug. Little Leo babbled with excitement.
"Yeah! Uncle Leo is home now!" She exclaimed in a baby-talk voice. Everyone laughed at the baby.
"Even he is excited." She smiled, and everyone else did too.
After a brief pause, Lara conceded that Leo needed a diaper change and Aaron, without skipping a beat, took Leo and headed upstairs. I was so proud of my brother. I never thought I'd be sentimental in this way, but here I was. Cancer brings it out in the strongest of us.

They brought all my things in. I was able to hobble up the stairs to my bedroom. I took a deep breath, the clean linens and carpet smelled so good, so much better than the sterile and sickly hospital room.
I was feeling okay still. I was weak and tired, but I was able to move around freely. I could walk and talk and I was proud of myself for using the stairs with relative ease.

You made the right decision, I told myself. I wasn't sure if I was right, if I had made the best decision, but it was the one I made. Here we were.

I took a shower, sitting on the old man shower bench that took up the entire tub. I let the water run down my body. I was still thin, but I'd gained a few pounds. I couldn't see my ribs anymore, and I took it as a good sign.
My hair had started sprouting back on my head. I ran a hand through the tiny tufts.
It was hard, though, to see these signs. They might have looked good, but I knew it wasn't. I'd die a normal weight, with maybe a little hair. But, I would die at home.
I dried off and dressed myself in sweat pants and a t-shirt. It felt so good to be clean. No sponge baths, a real, genuine clean.
That night, I wandered downstairs. It took a lot out of me, but I insisted on sitting for a while with my family. I'd missed them.
We were gathered around the television watching Willy Wonka. Hattie was giggling at the Oompa Loompas. She was surprised to see me that evening. I'd come home and she had been at school all day, so she had no idea. She ran full-force into me, hugging me with all her might.
"I knew you would come home," she whispered. I'd hugged her back.

As we sat around the TV, my mom interrupted the movie.
"Leo, your birthday is coming up," she said.
I nodded my head. That was true.
"April thirtieth," I confirmed. It was only three weeks away.
"Well... I was thinking... Maybe we throw a party for you?" She smiled, pleased with herself.
"A party? Mom..." I started.
My siblings all watched in silence as we darted back and forth.
"But Leo, it will be fun. You can play some of your songs..."
"I don't think so, mom. I don't think I'll be up for it..."
She nodded, in defeat. My siblings went back to watching the movie, pretending not to have been in the middle of that. I felt bad, but I wasn't sure I would be able to commit to anything this far out. Every day was a waiting game, it was always touch and go.

After the movie went off, I was exhausted. I hugged my brothers and sister and headed back upstairs. I collapsed into my bed and wrapped myself in blankets. My mind rushed with all of the things that were happening. It was good, and bad. I wasn't sure if my mom knew that I grasped what was happening. I did, too much.
I was glad to be home but sad about what that meant. I was happy my family was around but hated what they would witness.
My mom came up to the room to check on me before going to bed herself.
She knocked on the door and poked her head in.
"Leo, are you okay, sweetheart?" She whispered.
"I'm okay, mom. I'm really tired. I don't have a lot of energy left."
She nodded, coming closer. She sat on my bed beside me.
"I'm happy you're home, baby. We all are. We love you very much."
She leaned in and kissed my head.
"You are our miracle boy," she whispered.
I met her gaze.
"Thank you, mama."

I closed my eyes tight.

Yes. I have made the right decision.