Relapse To Remission

Dr. Cindy Fitzgerald walked into the little hospital check up room with two, 3rd year interns in tow; Doctor Deluca and Doctor Karev. They always come to my checkups. I've had them as my doctors for three years. Dr. Cindy had them as interns the day I was brought in, and that was during their first year.
    “Deluca! Who’s our patient today?” Dr. Fitz smiled, knowing exactly who I am. Same with the boys. Were all pretty close. I mean they’ve known me for almost three years.
“Riley Longbottom. Age eighteen. In for remission check up. Tests up to recently show no growth in the cells surrounding the larynx.”
Doctor Deluca took a quick breath and flashed a kind smile at me. “Riley we are going to take some blood and run some routine tests. Just to ensure the cancer didn’t grow.” She touched my shoulder, smiled and walked out of the room with the two boys.

    Three years ago I was diagnosed with supraglottic laryngeal cancer; cancer in my larynx. Dr. Fitz was the doctor who diagnosed me, she was just a resident at the time. Two hours later all my tests were in, all three of the doctors came back in, but none of them seemed as joyful as they did when they first came in. I knew Something awful had happened.
    “Riley, the cancer has spread to your lymph nodes. You have stage two supraglottic laryngeal cancer. Were going to start radiation therapy as soon as we can.” No wonder talking has been a chore lately. My mother was already sobbing, and all I was thinking about is how my family would recover from the medical bills again. My mother, Rory, is working two jobs to support me and my little brother Reagan. My father isn’t in the picture he left when I was five.
    “Okay, when will we start?” After all, I was prepared for everything.
“Riley, honey, slow down. They just told you your cancers back. Feel something.”
    My mother was beautiful: bright red hair streaked with grey strands due to having three kids. My eldest brother Rowan; is twenty he’s in his second year of medical school. His goal is to help find a cure for cancer by working with it hands on. He really just wants to see me get better. I’ve gone into remission four times before this. I’m used to restarting. I’ve gone through both radiation and chemotherapy. I have two neck dissections under my belt. I’ve had this cancer for three years, so  I’m used to the poking and prodding. My sixteen year old brother worries more than my mother. My mama is picking up more shifts and leaving Reagan at home alone. So mom yelling at me doesn't really bother me. I’m fine with this. As much as I would like to say that I’ve knocked cancer's metaphorical butt I can’t. Not yet as least. But I’ll get through this relapse again.
    We went home. We live in a reasonably large house, spacious enough for four people. Rowan still lives at home, it was cheaper and at the time, and everyone was pitching in on my bills. I still feel lousy about it. Rowan always says it’s the least he could do. My brothers are my best friends. Row, Rea and Riles. We are always together-- We might as well be triplets.
    I’m starting at WSU this fall for neuroscience. You would assume that I wouldn’t want to work in a hospital or lab seeing as I’m always at the hospital, but I love it. There is some sort of rush I get when I’m at the hospital. Even if it’s for me and a relapse.The people are— eh sometimes really nice. I mean, how nice can you really be while sick?  My family says I’m abnormally happy all the time. I live by the quote, “I always feel happy. You know why? Because I don’t expect anything from anyone, Expectations always hurt… Life is short… So love your life… Be happy.. And Keep smiling.. Just Live for Yourself’’ William Shakespeare said that. I've relapsed so many times that my mother is always sad and my brothers have worry lines that should only a grace a forty year old’s face. I'm practically bald all the time. So when I find something I can be happy about, I will. Those grumpy people are getting the help they need-- some people don't have the means to get what they need.
    That night my mom had gone to work at the small diner in town known as ‘The Little Place’ or for short we call it TLP. The food is so good! My favorite thing to order is the double decker bacon cheeseburger. Most of the little town we live in goes to eat there. It's a great place for teenagers to hang out at. I missed a lot of the midnight TLP meetups being sick and all, but those burgers are so good I would want them as my last meal.
    I climbed into bed and quickly fell asleep. We met up with Rowan after the --gone haywire checkup-- and told him the news. He was sad, but he had held the tears in. Rowan always hugs me really tight after a check up. You could tell he wanted to punch something. This sucks for everyone. Regan came home from school. “Hey sis! How was the check up? Still fighting those little buggers?” If only he knew. It hurt to tell one brother, now I have to tell the other one.
“Reagan, it didn’t go well. The cancer came back I start chemo again next week.”
He started laughing. “Seriously! AGAIN!” he giggled out. He was crying hysterically. He's my little brother, he shouldn't have to go through this. He is in high school, he should be going out and getting in trouble, not hearing that every few months his sister’s cancer is back and in full force.
    We all held on to each other for a long time after mom got home from work. Reagan, Rowan and I stayed up till nine thirty doing homework. It took me a while to fall asleep due to the ongoing thoughts about what will happen. It's more and more difficult each time, I imagine my mom knows that. She was so strong the first time. Each time it came back I believe that she will keep losing hope. It was about ten o'clock when I slipped into the peaceful arms of sleep.
    Waking up this morning was difficult, I didn't want to have to tell Aphrodite and Apollo-- their parents are both archaeologists when they met they were in Greece, so I guess it makes sense to name your twins that. The names truly fit the two. Dite has boys always chasing her, When Apollo walks in he lights the room up he's always got a smile, saying ‘some people might be having an immensely bad day compared to you and a smile is a temporary cure’. I was thinking about how to tell them, out of nowhere. Maybe a note, first thing I say to them?  I finally decided I would do it out of nowhere, I refrained from telling them all weekend because they had family over and through a text, was just wrong.
    I walked off my bus and over to where I saw Dites poofy brown curly hair, knowing well enough she was too lazy to do anything with the mane on top of her head, I giggle knowing how right I am. I make it to where she's standing without being ran over, my 5’5” frame being hard to see. “Riley!” I was quickly pulled into a bone crushing hug by my two best friends.  Apollo popped out of nowhere. This was nice. I missed them. Dite started talking about the ugly sweaters her grandmother knitted for her and her twin, she even showed me a picture.
    “They were hideous! Like put it in the fire and laugh while its burning ugly.” She giggled out. Apollo stares at his sister like she's insane, which is not far from the truth. Should I tell them now?
Before I could really think about it, I could hear myself saying “The cancer has come back.” I slapped a hand over my mouth. The two of them slowly turned their head to me like I grew two heads. I was on the verge of tears. Apollo gripped my shoulders his warm brown skin standing out from my pale freckled skin. The hug was so tight like I could slip away at anytime. Aphrodite was crying, I motioned her over into the hug with my hand, and gladly she walked over.
    “When does chemo and treatment start?” I heard Pollo ask. I quickly realised that I needed to answer.
“Next week is chemo and then after the first cycle I'll do another scan and well see if I need the surgery,” I rushed out in on large breath. The warning bell for first period rang. I walked in the direction of my science class. School went by slow for the day and the rest of the week.

    It’s now Sunday and I start chemo tomorrow morning, I’m not so much nervou,  just really tired. Dite and Pollo came over earlier, we hung out and did some homework. They seemed like they were walking on eggshells around me, like I would snap in half if they said or asked the wrong thing. That's the only thing that really bothers me about being sick was the way people are overly careful around me. I mean I love all these people to death, but they are treating me like I am a two year old.
    Currently I was on the way to the clinic with Rowan because mom is taking more shifts to help pay for the bills that will soon be pouring in. “You nervous?” Row asked, keeping his eyes on the road, but turning just his head to look at me. To be quite honest, I'm just anxious like always.
“No, Just ready to be over with all of this.” I didn't tell him everything because, I wanted to keep the conversation to a minimum. Talking about the treatment is going to make me nervous than I already am. My chemo treatments take around four or five hours. I go every other day for two weeks then no treatment for 2 more weeks. Your body needs a moment to regenerate, because chemo is a rough process to go through. Then after the two weeks I start my next cycle. We pulled up to the clinic on the outside of the hospital and walked in. Rowan and I waited about twenty five minutes before they called us into the single chemo room I always get. I sit down and they hook everything up and I fall asleep.

    I had finished my first cycle and was in the process of getting the scan done, thinking about the week all the times my body was too weak to move and when I couldn't keep any food down, the midnight rushes to the bathroom because my stomach decided to flip. My three most favorite doctors are on the other side of the window separating the two rooms. I was now nervous. What if the cells did not shrink or go away? What if they grew? What if nothing happened? Dr. Fitz seemed to have a good mood about this scan, like it would be the last time. The board I was laying on slowly started moving out. I sat up and look through the window at my doctor,  expecting a smile. I saw the exact opposite, all three of the doctors looked like I just told them their dog just died.
    The cancer is way worse than we thought.
    I could see Cindy say something to doctor Karev he walked out of the room he was in and into mine.
“Hey kid,” he flashed me a sad smile as he pulled a wheelchair to where I was, he helped me down off the machine and into the chair.
    “How bad is it? Do I need another surgery?” He smiled and shook his head as a way to say ‘just wait’ we rolled into the room I was set up in. I saw my mom and Rowan sitting on the green couch that was pushed into the corner of the room. Reagan was on the bed, but he hopped off as soon as he saw me and helped Dr. Karev move me to the bed. Doctor Fitzgerald was in a few seconds later in a pair of surgery scrubs.
“Rory, Riley we are going to rush you into this surgery. We are afraid that if you move the wrong, one of the tumors will block your airway.” Well, that was unexpected. I looked over at mom and she was nodding her head frantically, the boys both looked like they were about to poop their pants.
“Why aren't we moving yet come on! I could suffocate here!” Cindy nodded at Deluca and Karev and they started moving things around.
“I love you guys!” I’m now panicking. What if something goes wrong? We were quickly on our way to the O.R where the large room is already set up for the emergency surgery. Cindy walked up to me ready to start.
“Doctor Robbins is going to put you under okay.” I nodded. The mask was placed over my mouth and nose I was told to breath in. I breathed in and was surrounded by white fuzz. My hearing was still working for a while I heard a few ‘oh no’s’ and ‘this is way worse than we thought’  I faded back out.
    I'm out of surgery, I know that, my eyelids feel really heavy. They were never like this before, all I can see is black this isn't normal either usually its a white creamy color. I'm hearing words like ‘coma’ and ‘we don't know when she’ll wake up, if she ever does.’