Chapter 13: Rolf

Talking about cancer is scary, and usually not something people are comfortable with. Many people avoid the topic whenever they can.

My first reaction when Lukas told me Rain had cancer, was shock. I felt at a loss for words. My world was flipped upside down. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

I quickly set my things in order and left Middletown without knowing when I was going to come back. I didn’t tell anyone about Rain’s cancer. I knew she would have wanted it that way. I simply told people I was going to look for her.

Before flying to be with Rain, I had read every single article about helping someone with cancer on the internet.

There was a lot of obvious suggestions like listening more than talking, avoid crying in your friend’s presence, and avoid pitying looks or behaviors. I shouldn’t offer empty words of comfort like ‘you’re lucky it’s X cancer instead of Y cancer,’ ‘it’s God will,’ or ‘everything is going to be okay.’

A helpful recommendation was that every cancer patient was different, and they needed or wanted support in many ways. The best way to help was to ask Rain if there were things I could do to help her.

I had keep things normal. Don’t skirt around the issue, but don’t let cancer to be THE issue.

It was important to make sure I was in a place of peace before the visit. I thought long and hard about all my feelings for Rain, during my flight to Phoenix.

I was going to make sure Rain knew that I loved her no matter what.

I wasn’t going to bail on her, even if she didn’t love me back. Whatever time Rain had left, I wanted to share it with her.

She was my friend and she had done a lot for me. She was probably scared and needed support. I was going to be at her side no matter what. I knew it was going to be painful watching her going through her treatment. I had to be strong for her.

If we were to have any hope of defeating Rain’s cancer, we had to stay positive.

Plenty of people have beaten cancer. I knew Rain would fight. I knew she wasn’t ready to die, and I wasn’t ready to lose her.

Very soon, Rain and I set into a pattern with chemotherapy sessions. I would drive Rain to the hospital stayed with her, sitting in the chair beside her, my laptop open as I worked whilst the drugs traveled into her body.

Rain would open her survival bag: an aromatherapy-oil roller to dab onto her right wrist – a great antidote to the clinical smell of the ward – and her phone and headphones to get into her own world. She told me meditating helped her, so I usually get some work done, unless she was in a talking mood, and she sat for the whole round telling me things she said I needed to know.

On her chemo day, Rain ate lightly, so I carried a bag with crackers, oatmeal, plain yogurt, and cold drinks such as iced tea, or orange juice.

After chemo, I would drive her back to the apartment Lukas had rented for us and helped her to bed. I offered Lukas to pay some rent, but he absolutely refused to take my money.

“I should be paying you for being there for Rain.”

“Lukas, I am here because I love Rain.”

“I know. You have my absolute respect for what you’re doing. Listen, Rolf, anything you need, anything at all, I am just a call away. When this is over, we’ll talk about hiring you for our family business. We need a new webpage and someone to manage it.”