The Loved One

Alice Caesura settled uneasily at the edge of her chair. She was instructed, as she had been many times in the past few days, to ‘wait here’. She was sure it was part of the nurses’ training, to lead a patient’s loved one to an obscure waiting area and instruct them to ‘wait here.’ She brought along her knitting, a magazine from her garden collection and even a note pad, on the intentions of catching up on her letter writing, but they remained in her tote bag. Alice didn’t have the concentration, or patience to work on any of these projects. Her husband was in surgery and the only thing on her mind was that operation, and at the same time the only thing Alice was trying not to think about was that operation.

A different nurse ushered in a young man. Alice thought probably in his thirties and he too was instructed to ‘wait here’. He was very neat and clean, and kind, he smiled and nodded at Alice, but she could see he was concerned; someone he loved was in there too.

“The waiting is very hard,” Alice offered.

The young man nodded. “Yes it is. Most people say it’s the hardest, I’m not so sure.”

“My husband is in for an operation, cancer of the prostrate.”

The young man nodded knowingly. Alice walked over to a vertical window running from the ceiling to the floor, no wider than ten or fifteen inches. She could see the parking lot, people coming and going from the hospital, even the clouds graying up and moving in.

“Probably be rain tonight,” Alice said, idly. The young man nodded again. “My name is, Alice,” she offered as she walked back to her chair.

The young man raised his head and really looked at her then, and in the moment of seeing her clear blue eyes, and soft white hair he decided she was no threat, not like others. Alice Caesura was not like the others.

“I’m sorry,” the young man rose and offered his hand. “Greg, Greg Stevens. I am so preoccupied with worry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Believe me, I understand. But, I don’t want to bother you, it’s just that I can’t stand to sit and not do something, and I am feeling very frightened and alone right now. Ever since Mike got sick it seems like I’ve been in one doctor’s office after another, waiting, worrying, and I just can’t knit another thing.” Alice patted her bag with the knitting.

Greg smiled; he understood exactly what she meant.

“I left mine in the car,” he offered jokingly. “I am just so sick of carrying it around.” The young man smiled weakly. His voice changed, deepened with worry and lowered, as though Greg Stevens needed to whisper. “We’ve been going through the doctor’s and tests now for about three months, it’s a long hard road, but, you know, I think the hardest part, I mean for me anyway, is going home with the instructions. I’m not a nurse, how do I know what I am doing?”

“I know what you mean!” Alice was surprised someone else felt the same way she did. “My friends try to be so supportive and understanding but, it’s hard to explain to them, that what I fear the most is that I will do something wrong. They give you a diet program, and medications that can’t be taken with this food or that liquid, and then they expect you to watch for side affects or symptoms. Sometimes it’s a terrible burden, uh, I mean a responsibility.”

Greg Stevens turned toward her chair and crossed his leg, leaning on the arm of his chair.

“I have to deal with seizures, that’s really scary. And it happens without warning, one minute, Robin is sitting there watching TV, or walking across the floor and then BOOM, down on the floor. And I worry I might not be there in time, you know, to catch the head before it hits a coffee table, or slams into the floor.”

“Oh, that is terrible,” Alice, offered. “When my husband started his chemo, he was so sick sometimes he’d throw up even when he was laying down for a nap. I always worried that he’d be laying on his back and choke to death or something. When he first got sick it was with diabetes and I had to learn how to give shots and monitor his blood sugar, all of this is just so overwhelming. And you know, something else that’s hard?”

“When they are quiet,” Greg finished her sentence. “Not talking, not being there in the room with you even when they are sitting right next to you.”

“Exactly! Sometimes I ask him, Mike are you okay, Honey? What are you thinking about? And he answers, ‘oh, nothing’.” Or you say, how are you feeling today and they answer,”

“I’m FINE,” Alice and Greg answered together.

For a moment they smiled, but it wasn’t long before they drifted back to the knowledge of why they were there, and their smiles faded.

“Your loved one, Robin is it? What’s wrong, if you don’t mind my asking?” Alice ventured.

“No, no, of course not,” Greg Stevens sighed. “We don’t know. There is a lot of kidney damage, and uneven blood counts, heart fluctuations, tests after tests reveal some sort of virus or something, but we don’t have anything concrete yet.” Greg Stevens was lying. He felt confident that Alice Caesura would not be like the others, would not judge him, but it still wasn’t worth telling the truth about, besides he was used to lying about the true nature of his loved one’s illness.

“That’s too bad. It’s hard enough when you know what you are fighting,” Alice offered.

Greg walked to the window and stared out. A nurse had entered to speak with Alice, and he graciously gave her the privacy she might need. After a few minutes the nurse left and Greg wandered back to his chair.

“Everything Okay?”

“Yes,” Alice turned towards him, tears in her eyes. “She just wanted to let me know the doctor is running a little behind time and it will be longer than they thought.” She wiped a tear from her eye before it had time to fall. “I’m sorry. God, I love that man.”

Greg Stevens reached his hand out and placed it on her arm, patting lightly. She was such a sweet old lady, he thought Alice Caesura was a lot like his mother, only Alice was stronger, emotionally drained perhaps, but he could see the strength in her eyes. Alice Caesura would never leave her husband Mike, no matter what she had to face. Greg tried to focus his thoughts back to Alice; she was still talking about Mike Caesura.

“Mike bought a huge camper thing, it’s as big as the Titanic, and how he thinks he’s going to drive it, or Park It, I just don’t know. The man can’t drive, but, we were going to travel around the country just the two of us,” she broke off in tears.

Greg squeezed his hand on her arm for comfort. “Sometimes, when it gets really dark around me and I think all the hope I could possibly have is gone, the only thing left is to pray and hope anyway.”

Alice sighed, breathing a ‘yes’ that was hardly audible. This young man understood what she was up against, and perhaps he was the first person in a long time that really knew what it was she was going through. She wasn’t a bad person. Alice refused to believe she was a bad person, just tired, anyone would be if they had to adjust their life to their partner’s illness.

For a long time they sat quietly. Alice thought she could hear the young man mumbling a prayer, and respectfully she closed her eyes to offer one of her own.

“I know what love is,” the young man finally said. “We haven’t been together as long as you and your husband, only a few years, but it might as well be a lifetime. I wish it would all end, and then I’m afraid, that if I say it out loud, or think it too often, that some angel might misunderstand, and think of death as the end, and take my love one away from me. Most of the time I remain silent, waiting, hoping, but, sometimes, I hate to admit this,” Greg lowered his voice to a mere whisper, “sometimes, I loose faith. I loose hope and I wonder if it wouldn’t be better to have death than to have the suffering?”

Alice reached for his hands this time and held them tightly. “I too have wondered.”

“It’s just that you go through life waiting for someone to love,” he continued. “And then there they are, and love becomes the most wonderful and important part of living, until, BAM, fate or whatever it is, smacks you right between the eyes. And suddenly, until death do you part, becomes a frightening sentence.”
They sat quietly for a time, the young man and Alice holding hands, whispering small prayers sometimes, looking at the doorway waiting for someone to come with the news and fearing that they might.

Finally a nurse did come for Alice.

“Your husband is out of surgery, Mrs. Caesura, the doctor will see you down the hall and around to the red line, follow that to the double doors. A nurse will direct you from there.”

“Thank you,” Alice rose gathering her things.

“Well,” Greg Stevens smiled reassuringly. “Good luck.”

“I hope all goes well with you too, young man, God be with you.”

Alice hurried down the hall towards the red line.

Greg Stevens sat for a while in the waiting room starring at the floor, the wall, and the ceiling until finally a nurse came for him.

“Mr. Stevens?” She asked.

Greg nodded at her. The nurse read the chart again and then looked at Greg. He thought he noticed a slight uplift of her eyebrow. That would not be unusual to Greg.
“You are Mr. Earhart’s roommate?” The nurse asked, verifying her information.
“Yes,” Greg answered impatiently, “Yes, Robin and I are roommates.”

“The doctor will see you now,” the nurse ignored Greg’s impatience. It was no never mind to her. “Just follow the blue line to the right and go through the alcove to the next hallway, there you will see another waiting room, someone will be right in to get you.”

Greg Stevens sighed, and then hurried to the next waiting room.