The Door Upon Which I Knock - Cover

The Door Upon Which I Knock

Copyright© 2014 by Bytor

Chapter 3

The best thing about the future is that, it comes only one day at a time - A. Lincoln

Things settled down at home, nothing was said about smoking pot and Patricia did not get into trouble for giving it to him. He continued the dialysis and had his second chemo treatment before a meeting with Doctor Sawyer was scheduled to review his treatments and the progress of the cancer. You know, pretty standard stuff. NOT!

Up until they left the house he was feeling pretty good, but when they got in the car he sensed an uneasiness with his parents, which had a bad effect on him as he began to feel a foreboding surround him. His parents tried concealing it, making light conversation as they went on their way to his appointment, but there was a vibe that emanated from them that they were probably not aware of.

He closed his eyes and pushed all the negative sensations he was feeling out of himself and focused on the positive things that have come to him lately, Patricia standing up for him and the use of marijuana to counteract the nausea he got from chemo. Both of these were of such an impact to him that he felt he could beat cancer.

They arrived at the doctor's office and sat in the waiting room for a few minutes before they were taken back to her office where they sat quietly and waited for the doctor. A few minutes later the door opened and she walked in saying, "Good afternoon everyone."

His mom answered with, "Good afternoon Dr. Sawyer, how are you?"

Turning to his mom, Dr. Sawyer said, "Good thank you." As she sat down behind her desk she looked at Patrick and asked, "So, Patrick, how are you feeling?"

He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Uhm, well, you know, as you would expect."

She smiled knowingly and said, "Well I've looked over the results of your last CT and the cancer has grown. The treatments, although you've only had two, do not seem to be working as we had hoped. So, I've talked to the Oncologist at the Medical Center and we've come to an agreement that we are going to switch up the treatment, still chemo using the same drug, but adding another experimental drug that combats the speed of the growth."

His mom nervously asked, "Experimental?"

"Yes. Even with two treatments the cancer should have, at the very least, stopped growing or even shrunk, but yours has grown, and we need to be more aggressive with the treatment."

His voice croaked a little as he asked, "So, what does it look like? The survival rate?"

The Dr. took off her glasses, looked directly at Patrick and said in an even voice, "Unless we can control it, it's terminal."

Clearing his throat, "So, experimental, what are the side effects?"

"Just as they were before with the first drug, but the new one will cause an irritation as the drug is entering your system, and the drug will stay in your system longer causing the nausea to last longer. Since it is experimental some of the side effects are not readily known, and those that have been documented could be due to other issues. This is a list of the side effects" as she handed him a pamphlet on the drug.

He read through the pamphlet as his parents asked questions, which he disregarded. His jaw dropped as the list of side affects covered a full page. It included several wonderful new painful sounding affects, painful stomach cramps, irritable bowel syndrome, the ever popular embarrassing anal leakage, incontinence, diarrhea, and then let's not forget the truly ecstatic vision loss, facial numbness, and yellow tinted skin.

He placed the pamphlet down on the Doctor's desk and said, "I, uhm, need to get to the bathroom" and quickly made his way out of the office.

He barely made it to the toilet as his stomach emptied its contents. He lost count of how many times he vomited, but when his stomach was empty he felt relieved. But that only lasted a moment as he continued with several dry heaves before it finally stopped. His insides hurt from the heaving as he sat on the floor in a cold sweat as he forced himself not to cry.

His dad, who unbeknownst to him had followed him into the bathroom asked, "Are you okay?"

Am I okay? What the fuck! Is he a fucking idiot? Of course I'm not okay. What a god dam asshole he can be! Asking such a stupid fucking question as I am puking my guts out! What a fucking idiot.

He caught himself before he said anything and quietly said, "Yeah, I'm okay. It's just, well, this caught me by surprise."

He flushed the toilet and walked out to see his dad, clearly worried about him and as white as can be. He smiled weakly at him, a feeble attempt to show that he was alright before washing his face and getting the foul taste out of his mouth. Yeah, he feels as bad as I do. Probably worse because there's nothing that he can do for his son. He feels helpless and he knows that I know how he feels.

When he was done cleaning up they walked back to the doctor's office, his dad's arm around his shoulder. It was a useless gesture that had no bearing on his health, but he felt his dad's strength flow into him. He placed his arm on his shoulder and said, "Thanks Dad."

It wasn't much for either of them to do, but it was a great comfort to both.

As he entered the office his mom asked, "Are you okay?"

He nodded his head, "Yeah, just, this news is not what I was expecting."

"Do you need anything? A glass of water?" asked the doctor.

Shaking his head he said, "No, I'm good."

"Well, your mother and I have talked over what's coming up, if you are up to it I can go over it with you?"

"If it's all the same to everyone here, I'd like to go home and, let it sink in."

"That's fine Patrick. If you have any questions we can set up another appointment."

"Thanks Doc" and walked out of the office not waiting for his mom or dad. He had enough of this and needed to get out of there quickly. He waited outside for his parents who followed him after only a few minutes. His mom took his arm in hers and walked with him to the car in silence.


This time around he made sure that Patricia and Valerie knew what was going on, not that he did not trust his parents from telling them after the last time, but he felt that he needed to make sure that they knew.

When he told Valerie of the setback with the chemo, he could see her holding herself together and after he was done she sat quietly for a moment or two before looking him in the eye and ask, "So, not good news. What, uhm, what is it, that you are going to do?"

He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Same thing I am doing now."

"And if it gets worse?"

"Deal with it if it happens I suppose."

She reached over and hugged him tightly, "I don't want you to die. I need you in my life."

He couldn't say anything as he choked up and could only hug her back as tightly as she hugged him. As he held her he could feel her shake slightly as a small sob came from her. When it came to emotions she was always quiet and held them in check, like much of the rest of the family. But he could see her breaking from that mold, opening up to him more so than anyone else, and not through words but through the core emotions that he felt as she hugged him.

Hugged? No, she was not hugging him, she was holding onto him, as if by shear will power she was going to keep him with her no matter what happened to him.

The following day he was off with Patricia for dialysis. As with the first time they went, both rode in silence. It was Patricia who broke the silence when she asked, "It seems that you are missing all the breaks on this one."

He shrugged and said, "Yeah. But it could be worse."

"Really? And how is that?"

"Well, my beautiful wonderful older sister might not have had the guts to acquire a certain substance to counteract the side effects of chemo."

She looked at him and said, "Well. It was the least I could do for you."

"Shit! Believe me when I say to you that if it wasn't for that I would have been in deep, DEEP, shit. It would have made it very hard to keep a positive outlook if all I did was throw up all the time. You don't know what that meant to me. I can't thank you enough."

"Well, I'm glad that I could help." A moment of silence passed before she continued,

"Uhm, if, things don't go your way, have you thought about what you will do?" the last said through a cracking voice.

"Well, no. I haven't thought about it. I mean what's the point? If I die, I die."

"Well, maybe there are things that, well, you can do, before it's too late" she said shyly.

He gave her a funny look and asked, "Like in medical stuff?"

She bit her lip and said, "No, like in life experiences, you know."

He shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, I don't have the faintest idea of what you are talking about."

"Well, like, oh, I don't know. Do you remember the movie The Bucket List?"

"Yeah, those two old guys were dying and they put together a list if things they wanted to do before they kicked the bucket."

She smiled and said, "Yeah, exactly."

"So, I should put together a bucket list?"

"Yeah!"

"But?"

She frowned and said, "But what? Look at it this way, when you get better and cured of cancer you can look back at this as a compressed youthful experience. And also, what will Mom and Dad say if one of those things on the list is something they wouldn't approve of? Nothing! I mean what are they going to say? It's like a win-win situation. You know? Take this bad thing that happened to you and use it, let it turn you it around to something that could help you!"

"Oh, I don't know about this."

"Well, why don't you come up with, oh, five things that you would like to do? Just to pass the time of day."

"Okay. So five things, that shouldn't be so difficult. So..."

He thought about it and had a problem coming up with anything. To be honest he was having difficulty with this question, having a bucket list seemed to be, counterproductive and defeatist. He had to think about getting better and beating cancer again, and by thinking of what belongs in his bucket list he was conceding defeat!

Patricia must have seen the look on his face and said, "You know what, never mind. It was a stupid idea."

He thought about telling her it wasn't a big deal, but kept it to himself fearful that if he said anything that she would push him to put together the list.

Nothing more was said about it until the following week when he went in for the new chemo treatment. To say that the new drug would irritate him as it went into his system was an understatement as the drug entered the vein. And as it continued to flow into other parts of his body its potency diminished but he still felt the burning throughout his body.

He closed his eyes tightly and forced himself to hold back the painful tears that were trying to come out. It took only twenty minutes to complete the chemo, but the pain lasted much longer, almost an hour.

And no sooner had the IV been removed than the first of the side effects began as he almost bent over in pain from the start of the stomach cramps followed quickly by nausea. He couldn't get up from the chair but was able to turn his head to the side, directing the vomit away from him, when he emptied his stomach. He wretched a few times before his stomach settled down, just as a nurse came into the room.

She quickly attended to him, ensuring that he was okay, before calling an orderly to clean up the room. She got a wheelchair, helped him into it, giving him a small bucket in case he vomited again, and moved him to a new room.

She checked his vitals and administered another IV to flush his system and sat down with him as the IV emptied into him. After a few minutes of the final IV going into him he began to feel better, well better in that he didn't feel like he was going to vomit again, the pain in his stomach subsided somewhat but was replaced by an even stronger pain lower in his abdomen, must be the irritable bowl syndrome. Great. Can't wait for that anal leakage and diarrhea!

As the IV finished the Oncologist came by and talked to him about the new drug they used, going over the side effects, which he knew and experienced, and to call the doctor if the pain became unmanageable.

He thanked the doctor and said he would call Dr. Sawyer for the pain, if he needed to, and waited for a wheelchair to get him to the car so he could be on his way home. Well, more importantly, smoke some pot to relieve the nausea, which Patricia handed to him once they were on the highway.

This time around it was not as effective, probably due to the new drug he was given, but it still was greatly appreciated. They were about halfway home when the side effects kicked in to full gear doubling him over in his seat bringing tears to his eyes. He groaned in agony with every bump in the road, feeling as if someone was pounding his stomach with a sledge hammer.

Patricia handed him another joint which he quickly lit, taking the illegal smoke deep into his lungs and holding it there until his lungs felt like they would burst in order to absorb the drug that would make him feel better. After several of these deep draws of smoke the pain subsided allowing him to sit back in comfort.

He was scared now, scared that the pain he felt would not go away, that this pain he just experienced was what was in store for him. This was by far the worst pain he'd felt in his life, and the thought of going through it again made him sick. More sick than he felt at the moment.

In the haze that surrounded his head and the wind blowing through his hair he felt as if he was flying. He imagined what it would be like, flying in a plane doing loops and barrel rolls and all of those wild tricks that he seen them do at air shows on TV. That would be a blast. What he wouldn't give to experience that first hand!

His eyes opened wide as it came to him. Bucket list! He turned to Patricia and said, "You know, I've been thinking about the bucket list and I think I've put one together."

Without looking at him she asked, "Really? What is it?"

"Flying in an airplane," he said excitedly.

She glanced at him, "For real? I would have expected something like sex."

"What? No!" as he blushed a deep red. Though now that she mentioned it having sex would probably be his number one on the list.

She looked at him, rolled her eyes and laughed out loud.

It's like she saw right through me! He tried to cover it, "I, uh, I didn't think about that! I swear!"

Shaking her head, "Sure you didn't. Typical guy!"

He turned so he faced her and said, "No really, all I thought about was flying."

Nodding her head in agreement with him she said, "Oh, I believe you. So that's two, three more to go."

He made a face and asked, "Two?"

"Yeah, flying in an airplane and sex!"

Throwing his hands up he yelled, "But I never said sex!"

"So, you don't want to have sex?" she asked slyly.

"NO!"

She looked at him with slanted eyes and asked, "Really?"

He turned a nice shade of red and averted his eyes from hers and said, "Uhm, well, I guess I do"

She pointed at him and said, "HA! So you admit it!"

"Well, yeah, but it wasn't on my list!"

With a coy smile on her lips she said, "Sure."

He smiled as he said "But I'll put it on now."

"Of course, you're a guy. So what else is on your list?"

He shrugged and said, "Well, keeping in the flying thing, I was thinking of skydiving."

"Really?!? Jumping out of an airplane? Wow, you're nuts."

"Well it's my list! You can put whatever you want on yours, but skydiving is on mine!"

"Okay okay." And then in a serious voice she said, "Just don't expect me to jump with you!"

It was his time to laugh as he replied, "Fine. You big chicken."

Disregarding his dig she asked, "So what's next?"

"How about driving a sports car?"

"Ooohhh, that's a nice one."

"Yeah, a Ferrari, or a Lamborghini, or a Vette! Yeah, going a hundred miles an hour down the highway!"

"Okay, need to get a license for that one."

"What? A license? Heck no!"

"Oh living on the edge dear little brother!"

"Yeah! On the edge baby, that's where you'll find me!"

"Oh tough guy here! Okay that's four, need one more."

"Sure, okay, something we can do together though. How about getting drunk together?"

She wrinkled her nose and said, "Oh I don't know about that one."

"What!?! You would deprive me one little thing from my bucket list?"

"Well, I don't drink" she said matter of factly.

Okay he now pulled out the big guns, "You do realize, that I am your only brother right?"

He saw her trying to get out of it as she said, "And it is unlawful for me to drink."

But he would not let it go, "Did I mention I'm sick?"

She kept making excuses, "Mom and Dad would kill me."

And the knockout punch, "Probably won't make it to the end of the year?"

"Oh fine, we'll get drunk together!"

"Now we're talking! You'll make that happen right?"

"The drinking?"

"Well sure. That and the other four items."

"Okay you want to go flying in a plane, jump out of a plane, go speeding in a car, get drunk with your sister, and have sex."

"With a girl! And not you!"

"Thank God, because finding a homosexual out here is next to impossible as would be having sex with me!"

"Oh GROSS!"

She smacked him on the arm as they both laughed as they drove home.

His bouts of nausea did not totally abate on the way home, nor did they stop completely until after several days had passed. This led to a much anticipated standoff between the siblings and the parents. His Mom gave him several home remedies to stop the nausea, and when they proved useless she switched to store bought remedies, which also failed to provide any comfort.

During this time he asked his mom if he could use a known cure, marijuana, which she rejected out of hand. Seeing his discomfort Patricia pushed her mom to let him use marijuana, which again fell on deaf ears. Last to try was when Valerie talked to her mom, moving them both to tears as she begged her to let Patrick use the only cure to his nausea. But still she said no.

The next day after Chemo as they sat down for dinner that it came to a head. Patrick came into the kitchen and sat down looking green in the gills. All he had eaten today were a handful of soda crackers and Seven-Up, and tonight's dinner, his favorite, meatloaf and mashed potatoes made his stomach do flip-flops.

He turned to his mom and said, "I think I'm going to skip dinner and lay down in bed."

She asked, "Stomach bothering you?"

He nodded his head and said, "Yeah."

"Would you like toast?" she asked.

As he stood up he said, "Maybe later."

Before he took two steps Valerie said, "If Patrick is not eating, I'm not eating."

"That's silly, you need to eat" pushed her mom.

"Well, yeah, and Patrick needs to smoke marijuana to feel better and he's not allowed to, so if HE can't eat, neither will I!"

"I'm right with her, Mom, if Patrick can't eat neither will I," said Patricia evenly as she backed away from the table.

When her mom looked down at her plate Patricia didn't relent, "It's not right. It's not fair to Patrick that he can't take something that will help him feel better. And it shouldn't matter that if it's illegal, just because the Government says so."

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