Free Always and Forever by Lurlene McDaniel Page A

your medication.”
    Feeling more terrified than sociable, Melissa forced herself to acknowledge the nurse’s chatter while DeeDee inserted a needlelike contraption of plastic tubing and a rubber plug into a vein in her arm. “This is a heparin lock,” DeeDee explained. “Not very glamorous-looking, but you’ll wear it for the next few days. That way, we have access to your blood supply and can administer your chemo regime without having to jab you so often.”
    Melissa wondered if she was supposed to feel grateful. She lay back in the chair and DeeDee hung abag of liquid on the IV stand next to her bed. “Relax,” the nurse said. “This will take about an hour.”
    An hour!
Melissa saw her days dripping away through snaking lines of flexible tubing. “I feel sick to my stomach,” she said.
    DeeDee patted her shoulder and handed her a small bowl. “In case you need to vomit,” she told her. Her eyes were kind, but they didn’t even attempt to hide the truth from Melissa.
    “It’s going to be bad, isn’t it?”
    “What seems bad now is ultimately for your good. I’ll be here for you if you need me.”
    Melissa swallowed against her own bile and swore to hold back as long as she could. She watched the fluid trickle from the inverted bottle and down the tubing into her arm. She watched as it began its long, steady journey into the microscopic battleground in her body.
    That evening Melissa was too sick to eat dinner, too sick to receive visitors. Her mother held her through it all, but Michael had to leave because he couldn’t stand to see her hurting. After her mother left, Melissa fell into a fitful sleep, awakening when she had to vomit again.
    In the stillness of her room she sensed someone next to her bed. A hand smoothed her bangs from her brow. “I’m here, Melissa,” Ric said.
    “Go away,” she murmured through parched lips.
    “It’s worse to be alone,” he whispered, blotting her cheek with a damp cloth.
    She didn’t want anyone to see her this way—exposed, vulnerable. Yet his hands were gentle and knowing. “You were right,” she said when the violent nausea had subsided. “I do feel like I want to die.”
    “Haven’t you heard?” he chided tenderly. “Only the good die young.”
    “I hate the way they treat me.”
    “Who?”
    “The doctors. The people here.”
    “How do they treat you?”
    “Like I’m not a person. Like I’m just a blob of cells. Like there’s something unclean inside me and they’ve got to drive it out … no matter how much it hurts.”
    “Should I call up a witch doctor? Or a sorcerer?”
    She managed to smile, despite her discomfort. “During treatment today, the psychologist came and taught me about ‘imaging.’ ”
    “So what will you use to hunt down and destroy your cancer cells? I pretend I’m manning a ship like Luke Skywalker. I close my eyes and zip through my body firing laser shots at any cancer cells trying to hide and multiply.” He demonstrated by pointing his forefinger and making zinging sounds.
    Melissa envisioned his illustration and smiled. “I imagine my cancer cells as hairy toads, all black and bony, with large suction cups for mouths. And they’re sitting inside my bones sucking out my marrow, getting fat and strong while my marrow gets thinner and thinner.”
    Ric arched his eyebrow. “Grim picture. So what are you using to destroy them?”
    “I … I haven’t thought of something yet.”
    “That’s the most important part, Melissa. That’s what imaging is all about. You’ve got to see yourself hunting down the cells and destroying them. That’s how you turn on your inner healing reserves.”
    Another wave of sickness churned through her and she clutched the sheets until her knuckles wentwhite. “I … I can’t think of anything stronger than those toads … ” she said as her nausea turned into pain.
    “You have to,” Ric said, uncoiling her fingers from the sheet and making her grip his hand.