True Love (5 page)

“She and Frank missed us going with them.”

“You didn’t get to wear your new dress.”

“I’ll wear it to the next dance for you.”

“Maybe we can go someplace special New Year’s Eve. Would you like that?”

“Sure. But before we make any plans maybe we’d better see how all these tests come out.”

He looked downcast. “I just want my life back.”

She quickly searched for a way to distract him. “Did Dad tell you that the school board put off their vote on the new stadium until the middle of February?”

“He mentioned it when he was visiting yesterday. He was mad about it, wasn’t he?”

“You know my dad,” Julie said. “He doesn’t
wait
too easily. He wants that stadium and he wants it
now!
” She banged her closed fist on the bedside table in an imitation of her father. “He says that if the school board doesn’t get cracking, they won’t break ground for it this spring.”

“It’ll get built,” Luke said.

“I know. But he has his heart set on you playing in it your senior year.”

Luke sighed. “Right now, I feel too weak to
pick up
a football, much less think about playing a
game
.”

“You’ll feel better soon.”

“I hope so.” He held up his hand, which was fastened to an IV line. “They’re pumping me full of antibiotics, but they don’t seem to be helping much. I feel like a pincushion. Every day the lab takes blood. This is a real drag, Julie.”

While Julie was trying to think of something to say to cheer him up, Luke’s mother returned. Her face looked calm, yet Julie suspected she was upset. “I cornered that doctor of yours, and he said that they’re going to take you into surgery tomorrow and do a biopsy on the gland in your neck.”

“Surgery?” Julie felt her knees go weak. “You mean they’re going to operate on Luke?”

“It’s only a biopsy,” Luke’s mother said, trying to make it sound like a simple routine. “They’ll take out some of the cells and send them to the lab for analysis. And they’ll do a bone marrow biopsy at the same time.”

“What are they looking for?” Luke asked the question without emotion.

“I’m not certain,” Nancy said. But Julie could tell by the look in her eyes that she had a suspicion. One that she wasn’t about to reveal. And one that, whatever it was, frightened her very much.

T
he biopsy procedure was indeed simple. Luke went down to the surgical floor at seven the next morning and was back in his room by nine. Both Julie’s parents drove to Chicago to wait with Julie and Nancy, and afterward they all trooped in to see Luke as soon as he was brought up from recovery.

“You don’t seem groggy from the anesthetic,” Julie’s mother observed. “When I had Julie, I was sick for three days from the stuff they gave me to put me to sleep.”

“The anesthesiologist said that I would come out of it pretty fast, and he was right. I feel pretty good. Except that my neck hurts. And my hip’s sore too.” He touched the large white bandage taped to his neck and patted the covers atop his hips.

“That’s because of the bone marrow aspiration. They inserted a syringe into your bone marrow and drew some out for testing,” his mother explained. “Do you need some pain medication?”

Bud Ellis announced cheerily, “Luke’s no
wimp
. He’s used to taking hard hits on the football field, so a little slice out of his neck and a sore spot on his body won’t set him back much.”

“I only take hits if my defense fails to block their tackles,” Luke said, making light of his discomfort.

It bothered Julie that he had to put on some macho act for her father, but she didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to embarrass him. As soon as her father left, she’d make certain that he got a pain pill from the nurse.

“What’s next?” Coach Ellis asked.

Nancy responded with, “The full pathology report on the lump will be available in a couple of days; then Dr. Sanchez will know what we’re dealing with.”

“So, you’ll probably be home for Christmas after all,” Patricia Ellis said. “That’ll be good.” She paused, then added, “You know, I was wondering if the two of you might like to come over for Christmas dinner.”

Julie was positively shocked. Her mother had never issued such an invitation before. Of course, Luke had eaten with her family on occasion, but never with his mom as a guest too.

“Are you sure?” Nancy asked, looking hesitant. “I’ve been so preoccupied with all of this that I haven’t given Christmas a second thought. It would be very kind of you to have us.”

“We’re absolutely sure,” Coach interjected.

“No need for both of us to cook,” Patricia added.

Julie wondered if this was something her mother had come up with on her own or if her father was responsible for the invitation. At the moment, she didn’t care. The thought of having Luke at her family’s table for Christmas dinner would help her get through the ordeal of the hospital.

“Thanks, Mrs. Ellis,” Luke said. He always called her “Mrs. Ellis” because she treated him rather formally. It irked Julie that her mother didn’t adore Luke the way she and her father did, but she’d learned to live with it.

“I know it can’t be fun being stuck in the hospital all during your holiday break,” Julie’s mother said.

“As word’s gotten around, some of the guys on the team have called me. A few are going off on skiing trips with their families and staying at fancy resorts. I tell them that this is my resort for the holidays.”

The adults laughed and the coach tapped Luke’s shoulder. “That’s the spirit. I knew they couldn’t keep you down.”

Later, when he and Julie were alone, Luke confided, “I wasn’t exactly honest with your father. All this stuff
is
getting me down.”

“It’s okay to tell him. You don’t always have to act as if you’re in complete control.”

“No, it’s not okay. He expects me to blow this off and not get depressed.”

“I know he does. And it makes me mad.”

Luke looked surprised. “Why?”

“Because you shouldn’t have to hide what you’re really feeling for fear that it might disappoint someone.”

“Don’t be mad.”

Unexpectedly, tears sprang to her eyes. “Well, I am. I’m mad because this is happening to you and you didn’t do anything to deserve it. And I’m mad because people—especially my father—are acting like you shouldn’t be too bothered by any of it. That’s so lame! If it were me, I’d be throwing things
at everybody who stuck his head in the door. Nurses, doctors, lab techs—everybody.”

Luke grinned and took her hand. “Don’t think I haven’t wanted to. But I figure they’re all only doing their jobs. Besides, don’t forget—I’m a lover, not a fighter.” He winked and she returned his smile. He said, “I got you a present.”

“Me? But when, and how?”

He opened the drawer to his bedside table and extracted a long-stemmed red rose, wrapped in cellophane and tied with a bright green Christmas bow. He handed her the flower. “When I was in the recovery room, I begged one of the nurses to buy it for me in the gift shop and put it in my room so I could give it to you.”

A lump of emotion clogged Julie’s throat. “You’re the one who’s sick,
I
should be buying
you
flowers.”

He shook his head, looking pleased by the reaction his unexpected gift had caused. “I’d rather have tickets to the Super Bowl.”

She hugged him, holding him tightly and with great feeling. “Oh, Luke, I can’t wait until all this is over.”

“Me too,” he said into her ear. “The only thing that’s made it halfway tolerable is that
you’re here with me. Just a few more days, honey. Just a few more days.”

The afternoon Dr. Sanchez came to discuss Luke’s diagnosis with Luke, his mother, and Julie, the nurses were decorating the floor for the holidays. The scents of pine and bayberry filled the halls and each door was garnished with colorful ribbons. But when the doctor came inside the room, he closed the door and shut out the noise of Christmas preparations. The sun slanted through the blinds, casting patterns across Luke’s bedcovers. The doctor, his hands full of charts and papers, pulled a chair to the side of the bed. Nancy sat near the doctor and Julie remained in her perch on the bed, her fingers laced through Luke’s. The adjoining bed was still empty, so there was no one to overhear, no one to shut out with the flimsy green curtain.

“You’re not smiling, Doc,” Luke said. “Did the nurses forget to invite you to their Christmas party?”

“No way. Who do you think plays Santa Claus for the pediatric ward?” His banter was easy, but Julie saw that his eyes weren’t smiling.

“So, what do you have to tell us?” Luke’s mother asked. “What’s wrong with my son?”

The doctor flipped open the manila folder on his lap. “I’m going to give this to you straight, Luke, because you asked me to.”

“Yes, I did.”

“And because it’s the only way I deal with my patients. I talk straight.”

Julie’s heart began to hammer and her fingers tightened around Luke’s.

“The official name for what you have is Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.”

Julie heard Luke’s mother gasp and saw her shake her head. “What’s that?” Julie asked, not one bit embarrassed by her ignorance.

“It’s a form of cancer that develops in the lymph system, which is part of the body’s circulatory system. Right now, you’re in an early stage and your prognosis is good.”

Cancer!
Julie felt as if someone had hit her hard in the stomach and knocked the wind out of her. Maybe she hadn’t heard Dr. Sanchez correctly. “But Luke’s so healthy,” she blurted. “He plays football.”

“Hodgkin’s is rare—it accounts for less than one percent of all cancer cases. Unfortunately, when we see it, it’s in young people between the ages of fifteen and thirty-five. Basically,
as in all cancers, the cells of the lymph system go crazy and start dividing at will. This breaks down the immune system—your body’s infection-fighting machine—and it can spread to other organs.”

Luke’s face looked impassive, as if he were listening to a weather report. Julie wanted to scream,
No! No! You’ve made a mistake!

“He never complained of any pain,” Nancy said.

“His symptoms were classic—swollen, painless nodes in his neck, night sweats, fevers, weight loss. But those symptoms could be ascribed to any number of illnesses. That’s why we ran so many tests.” Dr. Sanchez removed several papers from the file folder.

“Your pathology report shows that the cells in your neck were positive for cancer. But on the good side, your CT scan showed that your lymph network looks clean. And your bone marrow biopsy was negative also. In other words, the cancer hasn’t spread yet.”

“ ‘Yet’?” It was the first time Luke had spoken.

“Untreated, it will spread.”

“How do you treat it?” Luke asked.

“We start with chemotherapy.”

Julie felt sick to her stomach. She’d heard about chemotherapy and its side effects.

Dr. Sanchez continued. “I’m moving you up to the oncology floor and assigning you another doctor. Paul Kessler is one of our top oncologists—a big football fan, too. He played for Duke University as an undergraduate. You’ll like him.”

“So I won’t be home for Christmas.” Luke’s voice sounded flat. “You told me I’d be home for Christmas.”

“You might be,” Dr. Sanchez said. “Chemo patients are given their initial doses in the hospital to see how they tolerate the drugs and to work out the best combination. We’ll insert a Port-A-Cath here.” He touched an area near Luke’s collarbone. “It’s a tube gizmo surgically implanted under the skin so that your chemo can be administered without having to stick you all the time. The catheter’s opening will be on the outside.

“Medications will be inserted every three weeks for six cycles, for a total of eighteen weeks. At that rate, you’ll be through chemo by April.”

“I’ve got to walk around with a stupid tube hanging half out of me? I’ve got to take all
these weird chemicals? What about school? What about my
life?
” Luke’s voice rose.

“Dr. Kessler will answer all your questions. Chemo is his specialty. But you’ll be able to return to school once you’re on the program. And after you adjust, you’ll resume regular life. The chemo treatments will eventually be over, Luke.”

Luke’s face had become an angry mask and his hand in Julie’s felt icy cold. “And then what, Doc? Will the cancer be gone forever? Will I get to pick up where I left off? Or is this thing going to hang over me for the rest of my life?”

“I can’t answer that, Luke. I don’t know.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to go through chemo and all. Maybe I just want to pack up and go home and forget the whole mess.”

“Luke, you can’t—” his mother began.

The doctor interjected, “You have the right to refuse treatment, Luke, but it wouldn’t be wise. With it, you at least have hope for recovery. Without it, you will most certainly die.”