A little less than six months after our wedding, I awoke to the sound of vomiting. Part of me actually hoped it was Kat. But no, she was asleep in her own bed, in the room across the hall.
I got out of bed, wearing only sweatpants, and threw open the blinds to let in natural light. In my room, my bed, my patient was violently ill. Val had vomited in bed and was now choking. Luckily since he was no longer allowed solid food, the mess was minimal.
With a nearby shirt, I quickly wiped Val's mouth to clear his airway. "You're ok. It's going to be ok." The words were more for me than him. Nothing about his current condition was 'ok.'
Val blinked his eyes, confirming he was struggling, but at least he was conscious. And if he was conscious he knew the game plan: I was going to fight with every ounce of strength until the day he told me to stop.
I started chest compressions while shouting for my wife. "Kat, baby are you awake?"
Kat came in, already holding the landline phone to her ear. "Hello, yes, I need an ambulance." She cupped her hand over the receiver. "Jack, did you seriously call me 'Baby'?"
I was trying to stay calm. I knew Kat and I were not on loving terms, but my need for a friend/partner override my logic-brain. "Val, you have to go to the hospital."
Val shook his head, still unable to take a full breath.
I performed the chest compressions harder, counting in my head. One, Two, three, four; I knew I was hurting him. "Take a fucking breath, damn it!"
Val coughed and then gasped. "No hospitals."
"Val, you have to," I said, forcing myself to be the responsible grownup.
"Please, be cool, Jack." Val coughed again, spitting up blood. He had been having more frequent seizures, due to the increase in medication.
"I can get you some morphine while we're waiting." I went to a blue bottle on the nightstand, removing a single pill. "Open."
Val cuddled his head against my arm, before opening his mouth like a kitten. The hair on his head was shaved into a crewcut while his facial hair framed his mouth and chin. "Come on, Man. You owe me that much, for breaking my fucking ribs."
"If you have broken ribs you definitely have to go to the hospital," I said jokingly. In my heart, I was hoping to see him smile.
But Val only blinked his eyes again, his head tilting like a broken doll. "Jack?" his voice was barely a whisper.
"Yeah?"
Val swallowed hard as he started to shiver. "Hi, Jack." Val laughed a weak, pain-stricken laugh.
"What?" The corny joke had been out of my head for so long I had all but forgotten.
"What's the one thing you can't say on an airplane?" Val's laughter began to shift to tears. "I'm going to miss the airplanes. I wish I flew to Europe; Scottland, Croatia, Ukraine. There are so many places I always wanted to see."
"Yeah." I was silent if only to keep from bawling my eyes out. There was so much to experience in this life. Only an immortal could ever hope to die truly happy.
"Jack, are you even here?" Val's tears ceased, replaced by a look of dizziness.
I knew the paralyzed muscles were causing him pain, making breathing difficult. His mind had been drifting in and out of reality, as a coping mechanism of sorts. "I'm here," I said loud enough for him to hear. "We're all here for you."
Kat hung up the phone. "I'll wait outside in case the police come." With trembling hands, she stroked her father's rough, unshaven face. "You don't have to go to the hospital. Okay?" Her breathing was heavy as she leaned in close to kiss his forehead. "But just know, I love so you so much, Dad." Kat's voice was breaking. We all knew those words meant certain death. But she quickly left before any tears could be shed.
Val waited until she was gone before speaking, "I don't think I can do this anymore."
"We can stop chemo." I should have stopped weeks ago but I couldn't let him go. His body was holding on by a thread. And Val was still so willing to fight. He treasured every moment he had with his family even when he could no longer leave the house.
Julia visited him every other day, bringing holistic medicine, leading meditation and prayer. Even Kat joined in. We were a big happy family.
"Thank you." Val reached for my hand. "But I am so sorry."
"For what?" I had to ask. His words were making my head hurt. He has nothing to be sorry for.
"For everything. For hurting you." He swallowed hard, taking a slow breath.
"Are you trying to ask for my forgiveness, on behalf of the disease that is killing your brain?" That rather humorous question was actually starting to make me angry. Val's cancer was being held at bay by the chemo, but his immune system was horribly weak. I'd drawn blood and sent it to a lab, to find out just how bad the situation was. I nearly vomited. This was not a human body that should still be alive.
"I'm sorry I-" Val swallowed hard, choking back emotion.
"It's fine, everything is fine," I said nervously. I mean, what was I supposed to say to that? "I, um, I forgive you? " The awkwardness was palatable.
I looked around for anything to change the help alleviate the mood. On the nightstand were crosses, crystals, and other spiritual items. Most of the stuff was from his world travels. These items brought Val comfort but I needed some comfort of my own. "Please, God, I need help. Give me a sign."
I swept my hand along the floor, looking for pills, booze, anything. I felt something, thick and hard. I picked up a notebook off the floor. "Interesting."
"What's interesting?" Val asked.
"This this your journal?" I started to flip through pages of writing, and drawings. It was a book on agnostic spirituality; basically, a bunch of thoughts on death and heaven. From what I could understand, anyway.
"Just a book of thoughts."
"Your thoughts are on another level." Some parts were in Russian, others were in Japanese. And some seemed to be written in ancient Latin. Val's mind was so vast, the beauty was undeniable. I would have to find a way to publish his work.
"All life is on another level."
As I turned the page, his words made sense. Val had used a copy of Kat's latest ultrasound as a bookmark. He was even attempting to draw the figure on a later page. "What does the writing on this page say?" Val had written a single sentence in Russian.
He turned his head and smiled. "It means..." he mumbled the words in Russian.
I wanted to ask him to translate but the smile on his face was so peaceful. I didn't want to press the issue. "Do you think you could you stick around until the baby is born?"
"I'll try," Val said, closing his eyes for a long blink.