Chapter 11

I've learned that sometimes all a person needs in life, is a hand to hold and a heart to understand.

They arrived home without a word spoken between them. Patrick's mom went into the kitchen to prepare dinner while he went to his room, still holding the prescription, and lay down exhausted falling asleep within minutes.

At 6:30pm he was woken up by Valerie telling him it was time for dinner. He got up and felt the pain once again. He groaned as he walked out of his room to the kitchen, still clutching the prescription in his hand.

He sat down and looked at his mom and asked, "After dinner can we get the prescription filled?"

Perplexed his mom looked at him and asked, "I thought once the pain started you were going to..."

The overpowering feeling of guilt swept over Patrick forcing him to look down at the table avoiding everyone's eyes. He exhaled and said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put you through that, about quitting. I don't want to suffer, but I don't want to hurt you either, any of you. So I'll continue to go to dialysis until the pain gets real bad."

The family rebounded after that morning, the fractures and anger were replaced with healing and in a small way contentedness. But no matter how much he felt the warmth of this new found peacefulness in his life, Patrick knew it was only temporary because every time he got up he was hit with the stabbing pain. He hid it as well as possible over the next two weeks but by the third week the pain became more pronounced bringing a grimace to his face.

Two weeks later as he got up from bed he braced himself for the pain, and as he worked himself up it shot through him with greater intensity than ever before. It took him several moments to get into a sitting position, and as he swung his legs over the side of the bed he waited for the pain to subside. But as he waited the pain stayed, dulling a bit, but not going away.

He was getting close to calling out for help but stopped himself; once he let it be known that he was having pain his temporary world would end, and the peacefulness of his family would be at an end. No, that is not what he wanted. He didn't want to see them waiting for him to die. He was going to hang in there for as long as possible and hide his pain.

But as the days passed it was becoming more difficult to hide it, so he began taking the medication to ease the pain. It started with one pill twice a day, and by the end of the next week he was taking it three times a day, and by the end of the following week the pills were no longer keeping the pain at bay.

It was then that he talked to his dad about calling Dr. Sawyer for a stronger dose. His dad placed a hand on his shoulder as he asked, "Is the pain that bad?"

"Just started."

His Dad shook his head, "Right. I'm thinking it was about three weeks ago."

Patrick shrugged his shoulders as he looked away.

"If it gets too bad, let me know. I, I don't want you to suffer through this alone or without medication, okay?"

He nodded his head and walked back to his room.

The next day he used the new pain medication, a sampler from Dr. Sawyer, and was happy to find that it worked at controlling his pain, but one of the side effects was drowsiness. Within an hour of taking the new medication he felt like he was being taken over by a fog. He remembered walking into the front room to watch TV but that was it, no lunch, no dinner, no going to sleep that night. Nothing.

The following day Patrick, not wanting to have the same thing happen all over again, cut the pill in half and the effects were not what he expected. Though it did resolve his pain, he had several odd incidents throughout the day seeing things that weren't there. It truly scared the shit out of Patrick, so he went back to taking the full pill the following day.

After two days of being lost in a fog Patrick resolved not to take a pill the next day. The pain was greater than what he experienced previously and was constant. He lasted for three hours before taking a pill where he once again went into a fog for the remainder of the day.

They got another sample pain medication from Dr. Sawyer, but this one did nothing for him. He suffered through the day because of his fear of the effects of taking another pill. He knew it was time.

Later in the evening he talked to his family, telling them that he couldn't go on, that the pain was too much and the side effects off the medication that worked knocked him out.

They knew it, and didn't question Patrick's decision. His mom smiled and walked over to him, her eyes moist and her hands trembling took him in her arms and rocked him gently. When she let him go his dad walked over to him, he nodded his head and took him in his arms and hugged him as well.

After his dad let Patrick go he went and talked to Patricia and Valerie, both had the same reaction as his parents

They called the doctor the following morning to let her know that Patrick would no longer be going for dialysis, and to request a new prescription to control his pain. That afternoon he began using a new pill that was able to deaden the pain while not knocking him out or making him goofy. The remainder of the day and for the next four he was pain free.

It was odd, Patrick was so used to his dialysis routine that when he didn't go he didn't know what to do with himself as he sat on the couch and watched TV and felt like he was playing hooky! But as he watched mindless TV another thought came to him, the countdown. How many days did he have left?

It wasn't that he was questioning his decision, the pain made sure of that. But with it now truly before him he began to wonder. Here he sat, doing nothing but watching TV, is that what the remainder of his life was to be? Wasn't there something that he should be doing to make his life significant? He shook his head, like what? No, there was nothing.

As he began to slip into a steep depression he realized that it wasn't important. His legacy that is. It was what he got out of life for himself, not what others got out of his life that now mattered. If he had a wife and kids he would see it differently, but since that wasn't the case he would follow this philosophy. He had to, because if he didn't he'd drive himself crazy with whatever time he had left.

That night he had a tough time falling asleep as he was consumed by restlessness, causing him to toss and turn for most of the night. As the morning sun came through his bedroom window sleep finally came to him as exhaustion finally took hold. It was well past noon before he awoke, and as was his routine he slowly got up from bed letting his body becomes accustomed to the pain before getting out of bed.

He reached over and took one of his pain pills and a drink of water from the glass that was on his bedside table. He rubbed his eyes and waited a moment before getting up, a bit shakily, and made his way into the kitchen.

Finding no one there, which was a surprise, he sat down at the kitchen table and but he really wanted someone to be there because being alone was now becoming one of his greatest fears.

He sat at the kitchen table for twenty minutes before he made breakfast consisting of buttered toast and a glass of milk. Drinking the last of his milk he sat back and exhaled deeply, eating had become a strenuous task lately, along with going to the bathroom. Who would have thought that it would take so much energy taking it in and letting it out!

He got up from the table and made his way into the front room, walking slowly and carefully. Sitting down he turned on the TV and sat back into the couch and drifted off to sleep.

He was awoken by someone saying, "Hey Patrick, how's it going?"

He opened his eyes and saw a young guy with messed up long hair wearing a ratty old pair of jeans and white t-shirt about his age sitting on the other couch across from him.

He rubbed his eyes and said, "Jimmy?"

He threw his head back and laughed loudly, "Jimmy?!? Dude, you losing your mind?"

"Maybe?" he laughed hesitantly.

Sitting up he said, "Wow, dude. It's Teddy."

"Teddy?" Did he know a Teddy?

"Yeah, Teddy, from school!"

Wait a minute, Teddy? From school? Yeah, "Uhm, yeah. Algebra right?"

Teddy shook his head, "Nope, Social Studies."

Social Studies? "Uhm, yeah, sat behind me?"

"Nope, I sat on your left."

"Really?"

"Dude, how much pot have you been smoking? Or maybe you got something else? Something a lot better? Care to share?"

"No, I'm just kind of out of it."

Teddy sat back and asked quietly, "Cancer right?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"Pretty bad?"

He looked at Teddy and said, "I'm dying."

Teddy sat back in amazement of the news and said, "Fuck me. Man, that blows."

He shrugged as he replied, "Yeah."

"So, like, what do you have left, years, months, weeks?"

He shrugged again and said, "I don't know. Probably days."

"Fuck me! Days?" he said astoundingly.

"Yeah, days."

"Shit. Are you in pain?"

"Not now, but I was. I got this new pill that works pretty well."

"Wow. You smoking pot."

He shook his head no, "I only smoked pot when I was in chemo. Helped with the nausea."

"Fuck, if it was me I'd be smoking up a storm. Get me some big ole blunt and getting as much pussy as I could get. Hey, you still a virgin? You get any pussy?"

"Well, if I still was getting chemo I'd probably still be smoking. But I don't need it now."

Teddy laughed heartily, which was infectious and brought a loud laugh from Patrick. It had been a long time since Patrick had laughed like this, at nothing in particular! He just, laughed. And in no short order he was laughing so hard it brought tears to his eyes. It had been a long time since he had laughed like this.

As the two laughed hysterically the front door opened with a slightly bewildered Patricia entering the room, followed by an equally bewildered Valerie. The two looked at each other for a moment before continuing on to the kitchen carrying two bags of groceries.

Patrick sat up on the couch as he wiped the tears from his eyes. Finally able to control his laughter he looked away from Teddy because he knew that if looked at him he would fall away into laughter all over again.

Fuck it he said to himself as he looked back at Teddy, causing him to erupt in laughter all over again!

And that is how it went until Valerie walked in and asked, "Okay, what is so funny?"

He now purposely stopped looking at Teddy, and after another minute or so as he composed himself said, "Nothing."

"Well, it doesn't matter. It's just good to hear him laugh again" smiled Valerie.

It was Patricia's turn to question him as she came into the front room. Looking at him, he could tell that she was concerned for him, asked "Really? Nothing?"

He lost it again and began laughing hysterically and turned back to Teddy, but the tears in his eyes prevented him from making him out clearly.

He was brought out of his laughing by a forceful togging on his shoulders and someone shouting,

"Patrick, snap out of it. Patrick! Please!"

He opened his eyes and through the tears of laughter saw that it was Valerie who was shaking him. And as the tears faded away he was able to see her clearly, and there was a definite look of a mixture of anger, fear, and concern. He looked to Patricia for some explanation for Valerie's emotions and was shocked to see her standing in the door, frozen, with tears in her eyes.

What the heck is going on? He looked back to Teddy but he was gone. Gone? He was just there! He looked back at Valerie and said, "Where's Teddy?"

Valerie stopped shaking him, and a moment later asked, "Teddy? Who's Teddy?"

"Teddy!?! The guy just sitting there! Right next to me! My friend!"

"There's no one sitting next to you."

He looked to where Teddy is sitting and said, "See! He's right..." As he turned to look at Teddy all he could see was an empty seat on the couch where only moments before Teddy was sitting. He quickly turned around looking searching the room for the missing Teddy.

With a furrowed brow and called out, "Hey Teddy, where are you?"

Valerie sat down next to him, and nervously placed her hand upon his shoulder and said softly and with concern, "There's no one else here Patrick, it's just the three of us."

He looked at Valerie, and seeing the worry in her face knew that there was no Teddy. He lowered his head and said, "But he was right there. Teddy! From school! He came over to see how I was. And..." He turned to look at Patricia and it nearly crushed him. Tears in her eyes, and a sadness that he knew from the trips to chemo, was there to see.

He sat back into the couch and sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. It was so real. He closed his eyes and thought of Teddy, searching his recent memories of him, of what he looked like, and sounded like. But he couldn't. The image of Teddy, who was just moments ago sitting next to him had faded from his memories, and he could not clearly make him out. He was a blur, an image seen through a smoke filled room. And as he tried to make out his image it completely faded away leaving nothing.

Taking a deep breath he opened his eyes, and not wanting to see Patricia or Valerie got up from the couch and made his way to his room, only saying, "I think I'm going to go to my room and lie down."

He walked slowly down the hallway to his room and lay down on his bed and closed his eyes and let his mind drift about. After a few minutes he gathered his thoughts and focused his mind to what had happened. Teddy wasn't there. He was talking to no one. And to make things even worse, there was no Teddy. Hell, he didn't even know anyone named Teddy. It was all in his mind.

Even now, knowing that it never happened, in his mind that conversation with Teddy felt like any conversation he had with Valerie. As that realization came over him, he felt a cold chill run through his body, the conversation with Teddy felt so real that he could have been talking to Valerie?

His mind tumbled over this revelation. What was real and what wasn't? Were the people he knew as his family real? Did he have cancer? What is real?

He jumped out of bed and took a step towards the door when the room began to spin, and when he tried to gain his balance he was already falling to the floor. He tried to put his hands out to break his fall but they were at his side not moving, and a moment later he landed heavily on the floor and things went dark.

He came to with someone yelling. He opened his eyes and was startled by the greyness before him. He moved his hands to his face and discovered the greyness was due to a wet rag placed upon his head. He pulled the rag away and could see Valerie hovering above him saying, "Patrick, are you okay? Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you. And see you."

"You fell, and we came running and found you on the floor. You hit your head and you're bleeding. Patricia called Mom, she's on her way, and she is on the phone with 911, an ambulance is on the way."

He shook his head, causing him to wince from pain. He called out to Patricia, "I'm fine, I don't need an ambulance."

Valerie placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him down as she pleaded, "Patrick, there's blood all over and you were like out for a long time. You need to go to the hospital."

"NO! I've had enough of hospitals."

Patricia cupped the phone and glared at him as she said, "You are going to the hospital and that's that. And if the Paramedics don't take you because they don't think that you need to go, then I'll kick their ass's until they do!"

There was no need to argue with Patricia, when she took that tone there was no stopping her, so he grudgingly accepted his fate and waited for the ambulance.

The ambulance arrived and two paramedics came in, an odd couple of sorts as one was a large man with a well-trimmed beard and dressed very well and the other was on the small side, at least as tall as he was and very unkempt, one could even say dirty. But it didn't matter, at least to Patrick, as all that was needed was for them to put him in a stretcher and take him to the hospital.

The trip to the hospital took only a few minutes, and when they arrived he was fine, except for the headache that he attributed to the wailing siren. They wheeled him in, taking him directly to an examination room, and two nurses began to attach wires and taking his vitals, comparing them with what the vitals the paramedics had taken just a few minutes earlier.

With urgency the head nurse, well the one he felt was the head nurse, turned to the other and said, "His vitals are dropping; go get Doctor Aruim in here now."

He looked over to the side where there was a myriad of lights and tubes and readouts that were coming from what seemed like a bank of electronic medical equipment, all of which he didn't understand, which after years of being in the hospital for treatment or observation was a surprise to him.

In this moment, amongst the noise and stressed look of those in the room moment he sensed something was wrong, very wrong, and whatever it is was a serious immediate threat to him, not like the cancer he had or his failing kidneys. No, everyone here sensed that he was perilously close to death.

He closed his eyes and relaxed. This was it, what he had waited for was upon him, and he was ready. Or so he thought. Fear spread threw him as realization came to him of the seriousness of his condition. No matter how much he felt he was ready or prepared for it, it didn't matter as it smacked him in the face.

That realization was not missed by the myriad of electronic medical equipment as bells and warning whistles went off, alerting everyone to his degrading condition. He opened his eyes and saw several other people coming into the room checking this and doing that to the battery of complex medical equipment, yet the sounds never abated.

When the Doctor came in he took over and began directing the ER team as a conductor to a symphony. To him it didn't make the chaos less chaotic, but it did relieve some of his discomfort. Until one sound out of them all grabbed everyone's attention and the Doctor barked out, "He's in defib, get the crash cart."

Defib? His heart? What the hell is going on? He tried to say something but he couldn't make a sound? He tried to scream but nothing came out!

The Doctor was now next to him rubbing the paddles together before placing them on his chest. A moment later he heard him say loudly, "Clear!"

The room stopped, everyone frozen in place. He looked at everyone, their faces showing concern but no fear. He tried to reach up but he couldn't move. He couldn't do anything, he was helpless. And this was it.

Time caught up to him as he saw the doctor place the cold and slimy paddles upon him and then he felt the jolt.

"Patrick, are you okay?"

His eyes shot wide open as he sat up quickly. Where was he? What happened? Where's the Doctor, and the nurses?

"Calm down, calm down, it's okay. You're okay. You're fine..."

He looked to the voice talking to him, it was Valerie. What was she doing here? Was she with him in the ER?

"Patrick. Say something!" she screamed.

He shook his head gently as he replied, "Uh, what's uhm, going on?"

"You kind of yelled out something."

He looked at her somewhat mystified, "I what?"

"Yelled. Like, screamed out loud a couple of times. I ran over to, ah, make sure you're okay. I wasn't going to wake you, but your body, it was like, stiff, and I wasn't sure you were okay, so I woke you up. Are you okay?" she asked as she ran her hand over his head.

His mind was lost, what the heck happened? Was the ER real? What about Teddy? Was that real? Shit!

He coughed to clear his throat and asked, "What happened?"

She shrugged her shoulders and said, "I don't know. You screamed and I came in."

Shaking his head no he quickly asked, "I mean, what happened today?"

He could see Valerie holding back her tears as she said, "Like earlier? With Teddy?"

Teddy! "Yeah, Teddy. Was he here?"

She blubbered as she squeaked out, "There is no Teddy Patrick. He wasn't here. No one was here."

His heart sank, it had happened. "Did I fall?"

She looked at him strangely, "What?"

"Did I fall? Did I have to go to the hospital?" he asked getting somewhat excited.

"No" she said as she wiped away her eyes.

He lay back in bed and said, "What the fuck."

He didn't pay attention to Valerie, in fact he forgot all about her as his attention as drawn to the days preceding events. He didn't feel like he was slipping away, but what else could it be? It was so real! Teddy, and the hospital! The paramedics! The ride! The headache! Everything!

Those images, and the memories, they were so real! How is he ever going to know what is real and what wasn't! How!?!

Was this what it was going to be like?

The next day he was, off. That's the only way he could explain it. He wasn't himself, but he wasn't sick, or what could be considered sick since he was sick, but not a cold sick, or a stomach ache sick. His rambling thoughts were the first tip that he wasn't right.

He was awake most of the time, more so in the mornings than the evenings, the days took a lot out of him. It seemed no matter what he tried he could never get comfortable, no matter where he sat or lay.

He was miserable. So he kept it to himself, no need to have them worry or fret over something that they couldn't do anything about, plus he didn't want the last memories of him to be associated with how he felt about being here. No point in that! Anyway, for him, the most important thing was getting his mind set with what is happening to him and with getting closure with the people he cared about. It wasn't easy, every time he tried to say something he would tear up or his throat would tighten to the point where if he could talk it would come out unintelligible.

But his greatest fear was in losing his mind, the loss of his faculties. How was he going to deal with that! Or, how would his family deal with it?

There were a few times that he would get that look from his family that he sensed was for something that he said or did that was out of place. No one questioned it, or him, and he didn't either. Valerie and Patricia must have talked to his parents about "Teddy" to prepare them if, or when, it would happen again.

He spent most of his day in his room keeping to himself, still not trusting himself. He did come out for a late lunch but ate by himself, Patricia giving him a wide birth.

As was his normal activity after eating he fell asleep and woke up to the smells of dinner, his favorite meatloaf. That he would get out of bed for.

Getting out of bed was mostly a delicate process as of late, but now he found it painful and difficult as he felt a stabbing pain running up his back, and as he stood up he became aware that he couldn't feel the floor beneath his feet and sat down quickly before falling down.

His feet tingled, feeling the pins and needles like his feet were asleep. He thought back to when he woke up to see if his feet could have been crossed or were under his body somehow causing the pins and needles feeling. He stomped his feet on the floor to get feeling back in them, at first he didn't feel much of anything but after a few of these stomps the feeling was coming back. When he was confident that he could walk without falling down he got up and walked, shakily but without falling or running into anything, out to the kitchen where his family was having dinner.

He was surprised to see Robogym sitting down and having dinner as he had not been around as of late. It was good to see him; his expression in seeing him had never changed since the first met. There was no sadness in his visage, no regrets; no reflection on the future, there was only a confident smile. God he wished everyone else could be like that.

After dinner, of which he only had a bite of meatloaf, he went back to his room. He didn't think much about how he was changing, why should he, of everything he has gone through in his life change was a constant. If he considered what the changes were leading to he might shift to an end that most would see as sadness, or anger. Why should they be subjected to that? His life was ending, why should he impose on others his anger over his impending death? Didn't they have enough? Anger was not the right word to describe what they were feeling, though he wouldn't really know as they had never talked about it. So if it wasn't anger, could it be sadness?

At this point his mind wandered to other things of little or no consequence to him or his family. Within the last few days his mind wandered a lot, concentrating on something took a great amount of effort, just like his breathing which had become irregular within minutes. One moment it was slow and the next fast, sometimes he caught himself breathing like he was panting. But most upsetting to him were the times when he exhaled and it sounded like he was moaning. So many changes that he was going through and none of them he was cognizant of.

Now he knew subconsciously he was staying in his room and away from others. If what they were seeing now was the cause of their discomfort, knowing that his life was coming to an end, he didn't want them to see him like this. How he was slipping away.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a knock on his door.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, it's Robogym, you got a minute?"

"Heck yeah, come on in."

The door opened and in walked Robogym, closing after he entered he asked, "How you doing?"

"Okay."

"Yeah, sure you are."

That was what he liked about him. Honest. He knew how he was doing.

He smiled, "Yeah. I'm dying. I can feel myself letting go."

"I can see it. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?"

He smiled at Robogym, "Oh man, you've got no idea what you've done for me. The plane ride? The motorcycle ride? That was the BEST."

Robogym smiled and sat next to Patrick on his bed, "Shit Patrick, that was nothing. Nothing at all."

He shook his head no and said, "That's where you got it wrong. That was everything to me. You, you gave me some of the best experiences of my life. I wish I could do the same for you!"

He looked away, and softly replied, "Well, you kind of did. See, I've had a thing for your sister for a long time. I've asked her out a few times, but she's politely said no. So, when I came across her next to the broken down car, well, that opened the door for me. And, the airplane and motorcycle were ways of getting her to warm up to me. So, at first, it was all about her. But, as I got to know you I can say that I would have done those things without the influence of your sister. You're a great guy Patrick, and it sucks that you're sick, and going to die from it. I can tell you that I admire your, I don't know, intestinal fortitude, strength of character, or something like that, with what you face. I don't think I could be as, whatever it is, that you are if I was in that situation. But knowing you, and seeing you confront what you are now, I cannot think how I could NOT be a better person."

He placed his hand on his forearm and said softly, "If I have any say in it, if your sister ever opens up and sees things as I do and feels for me the way I feel about her, she's going to be the person I marry. I've loved her for a long time Patrick, and, it was you that brought her to me. You've paid me back, ten times, what I've paid you. And, not that it matters to you, but I promise that you'll be known by our children, and by their children. Not just for bringing us together, but about WHO you were. Your strength. Your caring. I can think of no greater loss, than you not being there. I'd give anything, to change that. Anything."

He stared at Robogym, floored by what he said. That he could have been an impact to him. That he meant so much to him. He began to think on what Robogym meant to him and realized that there were more deep feelings than he thought. His strength, his openness, and his ability to see past Patrick's coming death, or maybe accept it without being morose about it. Maybe it was his confession of his feelings for Patricia? He was so much more than he appeared to be.

He reached over and hugged him. Taken by surprise it was a moment later before Robogym hugged him back.

As they broke the hug, Robogym looked him in the eye, "I'm going out of town, and won't be back for a few days, so I won't be around, so, good bye Patrick." The last said as his voice cracked a bit with emotion.

Patrick could see it in his eyes, he knew what it meant, he would never see him again. It wasn't until Robogym was about to step out the door when he found his voice, "See you later Robert. Thanks."

After the goodbye he sat back in bed and put everything out of his mind, he had to, because if he did think about things he'd have broken down, and he couldn't do that. He needed to stay strong, he had accepted what was to come and he wanted, no he NEEDED, his family and friends to see he had accepted it. If they were to see his weakness they might think he was ... What? Sad? Unwilling? Pissed off?