Free A Penny's Worth by Nancy DeRosa

cleared her throat and asked, “Can I get anyone anything?”
    A petite blond woman with watery blue
eyes turned away from the TV and addressed Penny, “I could use a little ginger
ale. I’m starting to feel a bit queasy.”
    “Anyone else for ginger ale?” She looked
from one face to the next. Her patients either grunted or shook their heads.
    When she returned with the drink, she
realised the dark haired woman’s chair was empty. In great alarm she called
out, “Where did she go?”
    The withered lady turned away from the
window and pointed to the bathroom. “It was only a matter of time you know, she
did look a little green around the gills, or didn’t you notice?”
    Walking briskly to the bathroom, Penny
knocked on the door. “It’s me miss, the nurse, are you okay?”
    For a long moment she was met with
silence, until the latch clanged and the door swung slowly open. “I threw up,”
her patient announced.
    She had missed the toilet some. Penny
looked at her patient and asked her name.
    “Julia.”
    “Well Julia, I bet you feel a lot better
now.”
    She peered up at Penny with tears spilling
down her cheeks. “No, I don’t feel better. I am just plain sick, and I am just
plain tired.”
    Gently taking Julia by the arm, she
steered her back to the chair. “Come on now; let’s get you settled with a magazine
so we can get this over with. Then you can go home and rest.”
    Towing her IV apparatus behind her, Julia
glared weakly and snapped, “We can get this over with? Sorry, but I wasn’t
under the impression that we have cancer in common.”
    Feeling her cheeks flush, Penny replied
meekly, “Of course we don’t and I’m sorry if I implied that.” She took a deep
breath and added, “But I think we both want the same thing. I want you to be as
comfortable as possible given the circumstances, right?” Penny knew she had
sounded wooden and fake but she didn’t know what her patients wanted to hear,
or needed to hear. Maybe they don’t want me to say anything at all, she
thought.
    Julia sighed long and deep. “I’m sorry I
yelled. My family’s given up on me. The cancer’s come back and the doctors suspect
it may have spread to my liver. They have me as good as dead.”
    “How do you know that?” Penny asked as
calmly as she could. “Did they tell you that?”
    She shrugged.
    Measuring her words carefully, Penny
crossed her fingers behind her back. She hoped she was saying the right thing
for once. “Couldn’t it be possible that you’ve decided to think that all on
your own? I mean,” she began to stammer, “no-one gave you that information. You
don’t have anything to base it on other than your feelings.” She waited for
Julia to bite her head off.
    Taking a sip of ginger ale, Julia quietly
belched. “Sorry, but I feel better now. You could be right. Anyway,” she said
with a sweep of her hand, “All of the speculation on what my family or the
doctors think doesn’t really matter. You’re just trying to do your job.”
    Penny said more sharply than she had
intended, “It does so matter.”
    “What?”
    She squeezed her patient’s arm and said
warmly, “You matter.”
    “Yeah, well, I guess I could maybe matter
just a little bit to a few people.” Giving a weak laugh, she took another sip
of ginger ale. “I might as well stick this chemo out anyway. You never know how
things could turn out. Maybe I am being a little melodramatic. There’s a good
chance my children don’t have me six feet in the ground just yet, but it’s been
so hard on all of them. They’ll be lost for a long time if they lose me. But
having me here like this is almost as bad. I’ve always been the one to guide
them.”
    Putting her hand on Julia’s shoulder,
Penny said so softly that Julia had to strain to hear, “They’re so lucky to be
loved by you.”
    She rested her hand on top of Penny’s,
wiped her tears away and said, “Thank you. I know I’m fortunate to have them
too. I do feel a