From the Heart

Chapter X

For the next two months, it felt like every time Bailey returned from a trip that her family had moved to the hospital. The trips to the hospital came after a bad period of health. At home, Carol would become nonresponsive to conversations, not eat, grow thinner, and have trouble breathing. Yet, with one visit to the hospital, her breathing improved, she was responsive and would eat a pudding. It became a cycle between going from the hospital back to home. The constant moving brought a rollercoaster of emotions. At home, Bailey felt nervous and scared. At the hospital, Bailey relaxed and was happy to have an alert mother. A hospital visit provided hope that Carol was getting better. Bailey did recognize that there was only a small bit of hope. Someone truly getting better could live at home without aid from so many hospital visits.

The hallways of the hospital have always been familiar. But, while I grew up in these halls, they felt like my second home. These halls brought me joy. Towards the end of Maggie's life, when I walked the hallways, I was unhappy. The halls brought fear. Once again, these hallways are giving me fearful feels. Now, I hate that the hospital is like a second home, and I know the halls so well. The hospital provides an eerie feeling as you walk through it while it hosts an ill loved one. The hospital walk can feel like forever before getting to the room. You never know what you are walking into. How sick is the loved one? After a while, nurses and doctors know you- as the child of the ill parent. It is not a good feeling. The hospital employees are careful with what they say. They do not want to burden you more, while they know the truth about the diagnosis. Everything is in slow motion, and you are ignorant without choice.

~Bailey Elizabeth Nelson~

At the end of the summer, Carol began to deteriorate. Despite Carol never openly confirmed that her cancer was not disappearing, her physical appearance contradicted her hope. Carol was still hoping that the cancer would go, which kept her from confirming any final diagnosis. One evening, while the children were asleep, Carol had an attack. Carol could not catch her breath. She was desperately gasping for air, like trying to get air during drowning. Her episode did not wake the children. Matthew and Carol decided to rush to the hospital without informing the children. Scared children woke to an empty house. The first action they took was shouting, "mom and dad!" over and over again. There shouts turned into shrieks. Eventually, they lost their voices. Finally, they called their father. "Children, your mother fell really sick last night. We had to come to the hospital." Matthew kept the conversation short to tend to Carol. Bailey drove Hanes and herself to the hospital. Upon their arrival, they ran into their father's arms and asked, "Is everything alright?" Matthew did not reply. He just embraced his children tightly to his chest. For the next few days, Carol had to stay at the hospital for observation.

Carol got to return home a week before school started up again. Bailey spent time in her parents' room with her mother. "School is very important; you are going to school. I am not an excuse to miss school. You need the routine in your life." Carol still slurring her words and a bit disoriented. But, she was holding conversations and interacting with visitors. Carol's lengthy visit to the hospital had improved her health. Hanes joined the gathering. "I was just telling your sister that you guys are going to school. No excuses. Your life needs routine. I am going to be here when you get back from school." Carol got tired and closed her eyes to rest. Both kids laid next to her, hoping to gain some comfort. Carol was bringing tears to her children's eyes.

The night before senior year started, Bailey was up writing and worrying.

At first, one has real hope that the cancer is not deadly. The treatment will shrink the cancer and dissolve the tumors away. The treatment has to work. Despite understanding that cancer kills, one believes that their loved one is the miracle patient. As the treatment begins and the battle continues, one's instincts kick in on comprehending the progression. Cancer patients have their good and bad days. The good days give hope at the beginning. Further into the battle, if there are a few good days and they are inconsistent, that hope fades. If the overall improvement is not good, your instincts sometimes can predict the end prognosis before any verifications. Unfortunately, your instincts sometimes know that death is the prognosis. You prepare for the worst news. Since the prognosis is not confirmed, you still hold a glimpse of hope. This slight hope makes the potential death news into just fear, not only preparing for death. The fear can be controlled. Sadly, your instincts are good even with bad news, and they are heightened. It is like a flight or fight reaction.