Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Elle stands in front of me and cups my cheeks. “You’re the love of my life, Ben. My best friend, my perfect companion. You are my sun. My moon. My everything. I am right where I want to be.”
“You want to care for an invalid?”
“You’re far from an invalid, Ben. You’re sick and your treatment drains any energy you have. Once it’s done, you’ll be the same Ben as you were before.”
“Minus—”
“Yes, I know, minus your balls.” She rolls her eyes and grins.
The way she says it makes me laugh. I know I harp on not having them, but when you’re used to them being there, you notice these things. Knowing the way I feel, I can’t imagine how a breast cancer survivor feels.
“I love you, Ben. I hope you know this here.” She places her hand on my heart. “I am right where I want to be. We’re in this battle together.”
“I love you too.”
“Good, now let’s talk about the negative outlook you have.” Elle doesn’t chastise me for the outlook I have but makes me promise to try and change the way I see things, especially in my mind. Instead, she wants me to play Star Wars or whatever game I want with the tumor and pretend to battle it. I know she means well, but she’s never seen a single Star Wars movie and has no idea what she’s talking about. Still, she’s cute for trying.
It’s the middle of the night when I reach for her. “Elle.”
“What is it?” she asks, her voice groggy with sleep. We share a bed, but not blankets, and I sleep on a mattress pad. Something that can be thrown out if it gets soiled.
“Something’s wrong.”
She turns the bedside lamp on and looks at me. “Where?”
“Inside. I don’t know, I can’t explain it. Something’s not right. I hurt all over and I have a fever.”
“Okay,” she’s out of bed and on her phone before I realize she’s called for an ambulance. It’s probably safer this way, instead of driving in the middle of the night, plus I can get medical attention much faster. “The ambulance is on its way. Do you want to get dressed?”
Elle helps me sit up, but it’s as far as I make it. Every muscle in my body hurts to move and I’m too weak to stand up. Red lights flash outside, and Elle goes to meet the crew. I can hear my mother yelling, acting as if I’m mortally injured. Her wailing is a nuisance. She beats the paramedic into the bedroom and all but throws herself at me.
“Mom, stop.” She bumps into my arm where my port is, and I cry out.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” the medic says as he assesses my vitals. He asks me questions, checks the dressing over my port, and finally helps me stand. I buckle against him, but he holds me upright. He’s strong, where I am weak.
Elle’s by my side, dressed and with a duffel bag thrown over her shoulder. “Going somewhere?” I ask her, weakly.
“I’m going with you,” she tells me.
“I’m coming too. So’s Brad,” my mom says.
“No, just Elle. I only want her.” Thankfully, I can’t see my mom’s expression, but I can see Elle’s. She’s grateful. I reach for her hand, and she gives hers freely until it’s time to move me to the ambulance. “Can she ride with me?”
“Of course,” the medic says, as he straps me to the stretcher.
Once I’m inside, Elle climbs in and sits next to the medic. This tin box is equipped with everything, and if I wasn’t strapped to the bed, I’d push and pull on every gadget all while saying, “what’s this do?” Surely, I’d get my hand slapped.
The lights stay on, but thankfully there isn’t a siren. This means I’m not dying. Just really fucking sick. The medic hooks me up to a couple of machines, and they start beeping. Believe it or not, the sound is soothing, and I close my eyes.
I jostle awake and find Elle standing outside of the ambulance. She walks next to me, with her bag slung over her shoulder and stays with me until I’m put into a room. Two nurses come in and one asks me a couple of questions, while another one draws my blood and hooks me up to a bag of saline. When they leave, Elle comes into the room.
“I hate this place.”
“I don’t believe anyone is a fan of hospitals, Ben.”
“Except for the people who work here.”
“This is true.”
After what feels like an hour, and after I’ve had some X-rays, the on-call doctor stops by to visit. “Hey Ben, I’m Dr. Wilder. I looked over your blood work and it looks like you’ve got an infection in your intestines. We’re going to keep you here for a bit and give you some fluids and antibiotics and see how you respond.”