Remission. (873 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.66 on 26 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by K.M (View user info) at 2004-03-18 20:28:12 EST
Ryan, my brother, was diagnosed when he was twelve years old.
Myself, as well as my entire extended family, had each taken turns by his side. It was as if by gracing him with our presence we were assuring him that he was not was not _really_ going to die; this whole thing was just a test of our solidarity.
I did not want to see my brother as a number on a cigarette package, or on some website. I did not want to be reminded of his face, that angelic face of his, every time I heard the word Cancer. He was only 5 years younger then me. We had things to experience, yet.
My family divided the visiting responsibilities amongst us. 2 hours each for immediate family, 1 half hour for extended family.
I had Mondays, Thursdays, and Sunday's.
Monday.
I had experienced the strangest feelings in that room of his. There was a battle occurring there, one that transcended something as infinitesimal as the cancer cells assailing my brother's lungs and stomach lining. The room seemed to have taken a consciousness of its own. It became a very real coliseum where abstract notions of love, hope, freedom, and justice tangled tenaciously with self loathing, despair, and iniquitous confinement. If you closed your eyes, and allowed yourself to drift amongst these feelings, you became a sightless, mute participant in this conflict. I could feel my own feelings ebb into that room, as if my very soul was breathing life into the place in some attempt at lessening the burden placed on my brother's shoulders.
There were no cheering crowds. It was against a most sterile soundtrack- syllabic beeps of the heart monitor and steady hum of the ventilation system- that these battles were fought, won, and lost
It was getting worse, every day. The doctors told us he would probably not make it to see his 13th birthday; only 1 week away.
"How are you feeling today buddy?" My hand was testing his forehead, under some absurd notion that he would develop a fever at any moment.
"I feel tired, Jay. They started giving me more drugs." He replied.
"Anything good?" I smiled weakly.
"Jay, can I talk to you about something?" He asked me.
"Of course."
"Do you think I am going to die?"
"No, of course not. You are going to beat this, you're a tough kid."
"Well sometimes I get scared. There is a lot of things I always wanted to do with my life, and at the rate things are going, I am probably never going to be able to even drive a car."
"Look, just focus right now on trying to get better. I promise you can drive all the nicest cars in the world when you get better."
"And I always wanted to write a book."
"You can write fifty of them, Ryan, but you have to get better first. You can be the world's most renowned author, but only if you beat this, you hear me?"
"Yes Jay. I think I am going to take a nap though, I am really tired."
I closed my eyes with him and went back to the battle.
Thursday.
"How are you feeling today buddy?"
He was noticeably worse.
"I feel tired, Jay."
He could barely croak out the words.
"You will get through this. You still have that book to write, remember?"
"I know... I hold on to that. I want to write a book about everything. I want to be the greatest author on the face of the earth." He mumbled.
"You will have your shot, big guy. You are going to get whatever you want out of life."
But he was already asleep.
Sunday.
My grandfather took the shift before me on Sundays. I would take the evening slot, from 6 until 8, and he would take the space from just after supper until my turn.
I never really knew what my grandfather spoke to him about, or even what he thought of the whole thing. He was actually quite an aloof man. He didn't smile a lot. He had a very matter-of-fact aura about him, and even I, who had never been particularly close to him in the first place, could sense that.
I had arrived early that night, and my curiosity had gotten the better of me. I pressed my ear against the door and strained myself, trying to catch whatever utterance I could that would give me a better picture of what my grandfather was like.
I heard distant mumblings through the door, but they gradually began to form distinct words the more I listened. It was not until I had ceased to breathe myself, that I could make out what he was saying.
"......everything you do, is surely going to have been done before. Everything that you will have ever said will have been said a million times by a billion different people across the span of history. There is, and I don't think its to soon to tell you this, there is absolutely nothing that you can contribute to this world that at least, at least a thousand, smarter, quicker, or otherwise better people in the past one hundred years alone have not done a million times over. This is just a fact. You are absolutely nothing special......."
".......Grandpa......."
"It is just a fact. A very simple fact. If you die, then your name will drift away into obscurity. But, if you live, it will be the exact same thing. Now, do you accept that?"
"I asked you if you accept that."
"Yes, Grandpa."
" Goodnight boy."
And I had to step out of the way to avoid the door. My grandfather did not so much as look at me. His shoes clicked on the tiled floor on his way down the hallway towards the exit. Ryan was sleeping before I even entered the room.
He went into remission the next day.
User Reviews
Submitted by K.M (user info) at 2004-04-27 11:09:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Damn... Sorry to hear that, Drink.
Submitted by drink_DDT (user info) at 2004-04-26 23:43:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
PS I HAVE MAD STD'S YO!
Submitted by drink_DDT (user info) at 2004-04-26 23:39:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
My brother is not expected to see his 7th birthday. . .
I don't like to be serious much but this post was touching.
Submitted by smokymtcsw (user info) at 2004-03-19 09:52:46 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
This was a great story.
Submitted by spirochete (user info) at 2004-03-19 09:35:31 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
wise old man
Submitted by Herpes (user info) at 2004-03-19 01:17:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Am I any less of a man if this gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach and chest?
Submitted by QueenAshlee (user info) at 2004-03-19 00:50:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Jeez, man, I had tears in my eyes til I got to the reviews.
Submitted by Kristen (user info) at 2004-03-19 00:23:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Great.
Submitted by dakingisdead (user info) at 2004-03-18 23:47:35 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well written but dude I think you need to put a disclaimer when something like this is fiction.
It doesn't make it any less worthwile.
Submitted by iddqd (user info) at 2004-03-18 21:59:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
glad i took 5 minutes to check back on uber today.
Submitted by SpikeGoddess (user info) at 2004-03-18 21:54:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I like this story. I like the mind over illness thing, you know.
This reminds me of my sister, and of my past.
SpikeGoddess
Submitted by DarthAwesome (user info) at 2004-03-18 21:50:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm sorry to hear that. My father has Crohn's Disease and my sister Ulcerative Colitis. I know from experience hospitals arn't a fun place to be. I'm sure he will be fine.
Submitted by Hairsphincter (user info) at 2004-03-18 21:22:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
nice
Submitted by bargled (user info) at 2004-03-18 21:11:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Tom and KM...not arguing?
OH, and KM, good job.
Submitted by Tom (user info) at 2004-03-18 21:08:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Well it was a good story but god "Jay" you could have humored me a little.
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2004-03-18 21:07:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
hahaha KM, sorry, just trying to get under your skin.
Oh, by the way, fork you bitch
Submitted by ohlookasquirrel (user info) at 2004-03-18 21:06:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by K.M (user info) at 2004-03-18 21:06:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
http://www.ubersite.com/m/27972
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2004-03-18 21:04:13 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Pure drivel.
Submitted by Tom (user info) at 2004-03-18 21:03:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
oh
ok....
that's.....nice?
fuck
Submitted by K.M (user info) at 2004-03-18 20:55:22 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No, I am sorry, this wasn't meant to be taken as something in real life, right out of my family. It is fiction. I am sorry for the confusion.
Submitted by K.M (user info) at 2004-03-18 20:53:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Sorry Tom, it's fiction. My name isn't Jay, and I don't even have a brother. But I am sorry to hear about your father.
Submitted by antluvdog (user info) at 2004-03-18 20:52:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Good luck.
Submitted by Bargled <i r not logged in> at 2004-03-18 20:51:05 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
break that geezers hip.
Submitted by Tom (user info) at 2004-03-18 20:50:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I mean, I know how it is to live with a terminal family member. My dad has Lou Gherig's Disease. It's been a slow four years for my family.
The average life expectancy is 3-5 years.
Going on fifth year this spring.
Best wishes to you and your family.
Submitted by Tom (user info) at 2004-03-18 20:44:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I understand this too clearly, K.M. I've danced this dance before.
Take care of yourself.