Tucker looked at the handful of hair and
put it in the trash. He pulled more out
of his brush and then put the brush in the drawer. He looked at his arms. Before the radiation
he had auburn hair on his arms. Now he
did not have hair on or under his arms! There
was no hair under his arms and none on his arms. He now had skin like a baby. This was some powerful shit, that was for
sure.
Mark called up the stairs to hurry or they
were going to be late. This was day 10 of
the radiation. There would be no more treatments. He was glad of that. He had already lost his appetite and now he
was having nausea. Failing to eat and
tossing his cookies was not a good combination.
He was losing weight and he was so damn tired all the time. He hoped he could survive today because then
it would be over. Already the pain pills
were making life easier. His dose was
just enough to deaden the pain without affecting his thought process.
He took his heavy coat off the hook and
started down the stairs. Mark waited at
the bottom of the stairs with a cup of coffee in a travel mug. “Here you go, buddy. Fixed it just the way you like it with French
Vanilla and two sugars. I stirred it
myself.” He smiled and held the door
open for Tucker.
“I am damn glad this is the last one. I don’t think I could take even one
more. This is about to knock me on my
ass, Mark.” He slid into the seat, but
was too tired to buckle the seat belt or close the door. He sat passive as Mark did it for him.
When Mark was behind the wheel he turned to
Tucker. “Tomorrow is the BMAC meeting in
the Springs. Do you want to try and
go? It is up to you, Buddy.” He started the car and backed onto Howard,
then pulled forward to Pearl. Ten
minutes later and they arrived at the Roger Dorcy Cancer Center. Tucker was still thinking about the meeting
tomorrow. His mind was just not moving
as fast as Mark’s. Hell, his mind was
not moving at all!
Mark patted his arm. “Just set tight, Tuck, I am going to get you
a chair.” Without waiting for an answer
he closed the car door and was across the lot before Tucker could form his
thoughts.
Tears filled Tucker’s eyes. Well, crap, this crying stuff was something
new! Hell everything was something
new. It was like he had a ring side seat
to his life and watched as things happened over which he had no control. Marge made his medical decisions. Mark took him to his appointments. A nurse came once a day to check his
vitals. Cynthia drifted in and out like
a ghost and hell, even the dog was acting strange. Just last night she had came to his bed and
looked at him, barked twice and left. He
had no idea where she slept. Always
before she was with him, but now she avoided him.
He watched as Mark pushed the chair across
the lot. It was good to have a friend
like Mark. He sighed. He knew he had a lot of friends and he knew
someone was going to have to tell them he was dying. Tomorrow would be a good time to break it to
the Motorcycle club. He would stand up
tall and he would tell them in a very matter of fact manner that his cancer was
back and it would kill him. And he would
not cry. He would be brave.
But even as he searched for the words, he
knew it would not play out that way.
This death thing was to personal and too raw to say out loud to a room
full of people.
And before he could finish the plan that
was in his mind, he realized the treatment was over and Mark was returning the
chair to the Center. He would finish
thinking about this later. Right now he
needed a nap.
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