Pretty Pink Ribbons (36 page)

MY LUNGS ARE BEING ripped from my chest—that’s the only explanation for the way I feel. I heard Levi tell me goodbye a little while ago, but I pretended to be asleep because if I’d opened my eyes and told him that I felt like I’d been hit by a Mack truck, then I’m certain he would’ve stayed. I’ve screwed with his life enough in the past and there is no way I’m going to screw with it now.

Speaking of being screwed, my head is pounding, I’m freezing cold and I’m short of breath. My entire body aches, and it hurts to even
think
about getting out of bed.

“Mia,” I croak, attempting to suck in a deep breath, which causes me to cough. She comes running into the room.

“You look horrible, Laney,” she says, appearing as if she’s seconds away from panicking. “You didn’t look this bad last night.”

“I feel horrible.” My hands find my head and I rub gently at my temples, trying to alleviate the pain behind my eyes.

“I’m going to call Levi—”

“No. Please don’t,” I whisper. If I talk any louder, my head will explode. “Let him have this.” She nods, but her lips are pursed and I can tell she isn’t happy about it.

“Can you get up?” she asks, helping me swing my legs to the edge of the bed. She offers me her arm and pulls me to a sitting position, and I manage to push myself up the rest of the way. Slowly, I shuffle toward the bathroom and collapse on top of the toilet seat. “Laney, there is no way you can get in that shower by yourself.”

“I know,” I grunt, sucking in the deepest breath I can. “Will you call Luke or Benny?” She scurries from the bathroom and within seconds she’s back, the phone to her ear. It doesn’t matter that she’s three feet in front of me; I don’t hear a word she’s saying. My lungs feel like they’re on fire, and despite my concentration on taking slow, deep breaths, I still feel like I can’t breathe.

“Luke is on his way.” She squats down in front of me. “Do I need to call Dr. Hopkins?”

“No.” My eyes drift shut and I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees because the strength it’s taking to sit up is just too much. My body is aching, my muscles loose like noodles, and right now my head is spinning so fast that I may very well throw up if I try to move. “We’ll just go in a little early. Can you help me get dressed?”

Mia jumps up from the floor and runs into my room. When she comes back, I don’t even bother to look at what she picked out for me. I brace my hands on the sink as she slips my sweat pants from my body, lifting each foot when she needs me to so she can put my clean pants on. Letting go of the sink, I raise my shirt over my head and drop it on the floor next to me. When Mia doesn’t make a move to help me put my shirt on, I look up and find her staring at me. Her eyes are quickly filling with tears and her hand is covering her mouth. My brows knit together and she lowers her hand.

“I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “I’ve never seen your scar before.” I look down at myself and back to her.

“I’m sorry.” I move to cover myself up and she grabs my arm.

“No, don’t be sorry. It’s just . . .” Her eyes search my face and a small smile touches her lips. “You’ve never offered to share this part of your cancer with me, and I just wasn’t expecting it.” She kneels down in front of me and grips my hand in hers. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I’m so sorry. I just . . . it’s just . . .”

“It’s a lot to take in when you see it for the first time,” I interrupt, fighting back the cough that’s tickling my lungs.

“It is,” she nods. “Thank you for showing me.” Without saying another word, she helps me into my bra and pulls my t-shirt over my head just as the front door slams. Footsteps bound down the hall and then a gentle knock sounds at the bathroom door.

“It’s open,” Mia hollers as she bends down to help me with my socks and shoes. Luke peeks his head around the corner and when he sees it’s all clear, he walks in. I look up at him, the movement causing a sharp pain to radiate across the front of my head. I suck in a quick breath and squeeze my eyes shut.

“What the fuck,” Luke growls. “Laney?”

“She’s feeling worse,” Mia answers for me.

“Well, no shit,” he snaps, and I crack open an eye. “You look like hell, Laney. Why didn’t you call me sooner?” I hate seeing this look on Luke’s face. I hate seeing him hurt because of me. “Have you called Levi?” he asks. Mia leaves the bathroom and returns with my coat. My arms hang limply at my sides as she gently squeezes me into it.

“No, and we’re not going to,” I tell him firmly. “He needs to do this, Luke. It’s important.” Luke rolls his eyes, but I continue. “And I didn’t call sooner because I was going to see the doctor anyway.”

“Luke, will you go get Laney’s purse and I’ll help her get to the car?” Luke grunts and bends down to pick me up, cradling me in his arms. “Okay, never mind.” Mia rolls her eyes and walks out of the bathroom. “I’ll get her purse.”

My head flops onto Luke’s chest and he pulls a hat over it before kissing my cheek. “I need you to get better.” His voice is thick, but I don’t look up at his face because I’m not sure how much I can handle right now. A whispered
“I know”
is about all I can get out.

Mia opens the front door and Luke follows her out to the car. He slides me into the back seat and then props my body up next to his with an arm around my shoulders. My teeth are chattering nonstop and Luke snaps at Mia to turn up the heat. My eyes bob heavily as I concentrate on my breathing, which seems to be getting worse.
In. Out. In. Out.

“You okay, sis?” I try to move my head, but it feels too heavy and I can’t seem to get it to move. “Drive faster, Mia,” Luke shouts.

“We’re almost there.” I can hear the fear in their voices, and for the first time since I’ve gotten sick, I’m
truly
afraid. My body feels like it’s shutting down . . . throwing in the towel . . . giving up. It’s as if I’m completely helpless—an outsider looking in, watching it all unfold, one labored breath at a time.

“Damn it, Mia, how much further?” I stretch my neck to look out the window, but it’s useless—I can’t see a damn thing.

“Almost there, so don’t fucking yell at me!” Her voice breaks at the end and normally I’d roll my eyes and tell her to ‘man up,’ but I’m about a minute away from losing it myself.

I put a hand to Laney’s forehead. She’s burning up. A fine sheen of sweat is dabbled across her forehead and her body is shivering uncontrollably next to mine. Her eyes are closed and I fight the urge to shake her awake.
I just need to see her eyes so I know she’s still with me.

“We’re here.” Mia whips the car into a parking spot and throws it into park. “Want me to get a wheelchair?” she asks frantically, grabbing everything we need out of the car.

“No,” I bark. “Open the damn door so I can get her out of here.”

Mia’s movements are jerky as she yanks the back door open. I pull Laney onto my lap, cradling her to my chest, and push out of the car. We walk at a clipped pace to the entrance of the Cancer Treatment Center and the automatic doors slide open. When the woman at the front desk sees Laney in my arms, her eyes go wide and she flies out of her chair and disappears behind the wall. Suddenly, two nurses meet us and we’re quickly ushered into an exam room.

I hate these fucking rooms. They’re chilly and sterile, and there is no way in hell I’m laying Laney down on that crinkly-ass paper when I know she’s much safer in my arms. Folding into one of the chairs, I bring Laney down with me and adjust her body so I can keep a hold of her while one of the nurses begins taking her vital signs. Mia is standing against the far wall with tears running down her face and she scoots out of the way when the door opens. Dr. Hopkins rushes into the room and starts firing off questions to the nurse.

“What’s her blood pressure?” She pulls a light out of her pocket and checks both of Laney’s eyes.

“BP is 82/50, pulse 132, respirations 34, temperature 102.8 and oxygen level is 94 percent.” Frustration and apprehension are building up inside of me with each number that’s thrown out, because I have absolutely no fucking clue what they mean. My eyes stay focused on Dr. Hopkins’ face, looking for any indication that she likes or doesn’t like what she’s hearing, but she stays impassively calm, which does nothing for my growing anger.

“Call upstairs, I want her admitted to the ICU,” she says, glancing over at me. When I open my mouth to talk, she holds up a finger and starts firing off more orders. The nurse is writing furiously on a pad of paper, and I have no idea how these people are able to look so goddamn composed when my skin is crawling so fucking bad I want rip it from my own body. “Order a chest X-ray, PA and Lateral, ABGs, CBC, CMP, blood cultures, and a sputum culture, if we can get one. Let’s get her on two liters of oxygen to start.” Dr. Hopkins brings her stethoscope to Laney’s chest. “STAT!” she hollers and the nurse hurries out of the room.

My heart is pounding against my ribcage, adrenaline and fear are running rapidly through my veins, and I’m on the verge of completely losing control. I look down at Laney’s tiny frame wrapped in my lap and I remember all the times she used to hold me like this when I was sick. Her fingers would make long, slow strokes along the top of my head, and she would hum . . . she would always hum. I squeeze my eyes shut to try and remember the song, but for the life of me I can’t.

Dr. Hopkins motions for Mia to sit down, and she slides into the seat next to mine. When I see her hand shaking in her lap, I reach over and lace my fingers with hers. She looks up at me with sad eyes and I give her a slight nod, silently indicating that together we’ll get through this.

Dr. Hopkins clears her throat and we both swivel to look at her. “Can you tell me what symptoms Laney has been having?” she asks. Her voice is soft and calm, and once again I want to scream.

“She’s had a cough for a couple of weeks,” I answer, looking at Mia for confirmation.

“Probably three to four weeks,” she agrees, wiping the tears from her face. “Her cough has gotten worse the past couple of days, along with her exhaustion. She’s been sleeping almost nonstop.” Dr. Hopkins is watching her intently. Mia glances at me and I squeeze her hand, urging her to continue. “She’s had a fever and chills, and this morning she was complaining of a headache. She also just started breathing a lot faster and harder than normal, and she’s been really weak.”

Dr. Hopkins rests a hand on Mia’s knee. “Thank you.” Mia nods, a fresh batch of tears falling down her face. Laney groans and I adjust her on my lap, wondering where the damn nurses went and why they haven’t started her on the oxygen yet.

The door busts open and everything erupts into a flurry of activity. Laney is taken from my arms and placed on a gurney. Clear plastic tubing is placed around her head and inserted into her nose. She’s immediately whisked away and I jump up from my seat to run after them, desperate to stay with my sister. Laney needs me, and there is no way in hell I’m leaving her side.

Several of the nurses are rattling things off to each other as they wheel her down the hall, but what they’re saying doesn’t make sense to me. My eyes stay focused on the sight of Laney’s frail body lying limp on the crisp white sheet. A set of double doors fly open and shut in my face, and I’m left standing in the hall, staring through a small rectangular window.