A PARTRIDGE FAMILY REUNION, Part 6
Now it was down to business. For Keith, that meant getting the group show-ready for tomorrow's appearance. For Chris, it was calling the hospital to arrange for his brother's radiation therapy. Keith was none too thrilled with the idea, but Chris was adamant. The sooner they began the treatments the sooner they could cure the cancer. It was simple, no holds barred.
Thus, while Keith called for a rehearsal, Chris went to the phone.
A somber group assembled in the garage that morning. No one really felt like rehearsing, but they all knew they needed it. They would do it for Keith, if nothing else.
Since they had to wait for Chris, everyone just sat around the garage, still contemplating Keith's stunning news. He'd gotten hugs from everyone, even surprisingly, Reuben, and he found it was easier to deal with it now that everybody knew. He'd been worried about how they would take it, but all was well thus far.
He was working with Danny on the guitar licks when Chris entered. "Keith, your appointment's in one hour," he announced.
Keith turned, staring. "One hour? I can't just…leave. We've got work to do."
"Sorry, pal, but it's either that or in the morning, and tomorrow's the show."
Sighing, Keith nodded. "Okay. What…does all of this involve?"
"It's radiation therapy. They'll zap the tumor externally with high- powered x-rays in hopes to kill the cell growth. It won't be painful, but there are side effects," Chris explained.
The Partridges and Reuben looked at Keith.
"Like what?" he asked.
"Well, it varies from patient to patient…most likely nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, fatigue."
Keith smiled. "Oh, nothing new, then huh?"
Chris shook his head. "Look, I don't know that they'll even do the radiation today. First they have to do what they call a simulation. They have to evaluate you, decide where to deliver the radiation and in what dosage. It's a long process."
"Hurry up and wait, is that it?" Keith looked at him.
"Exactly."
"How long will he need this treatment, honey?" Shirley stepped up behind Keith, her hands resting on his shoulders.
"Four, six weeks. He's only Stage I, so this should do it. We're lucky we caught it early. It's a tough one to diagnose."
"Yeah, all the symptoms sound like mono to me," Danny added. "And Lord knows Keith's prone to that."
A ripple of laughter filled the garage, and Keith shot his younger brother a heart-felt look. "Jealous?" he asked.
Danny grinned. "You wish," he shot back.
Keith had to smile. "Look, we have time for a couple of songs. Let's get to work, and when I get back from Three Mile Island, we'll continue, okay?"
"Okay. Hey, Chris, here's an idea…we can leave Keith's amp at home tomorrow, and just plug his guitar right into his navel. He'll be good for a couple of hours, wouldn't you say?"
"Danny," Keith sighed.
"What?"
"Shut up."
Reuben and the girls applauded, and Danny grinned wider.
###
Every muscle in Keith's body hurt. How long had he been lying here, on this cold, steel table? It felt like days. They had told him not to move while the huge machine passed over him again and again. If he moved the slightest bit, they warned, they would have to start over. This was the simulation process, Chris had explained. They were pinpointing just where the radiation was needed. Next would come the decision on the dosage. Too much radiation could really make him sick, and not enough wouldn't do him any good.
Keith stared up at the ceiling, or what he could see of it beyond the machine as it made another crawling sweep of his body. The huge monster was as noisy as it was big, and Keith imagined it was like being pinned under an eighteen-wheeler.
He was just getting used to the noise; it was lulling him to sleep, when everything suddenly stopped and he heard a voice over the intercom, "Very good, Mr. Partridge. I think we got exactly what we needed."
He looked over to see the technician, a young, bespectacled man, smiling at him through the glass partition in front of him.
"Can I sit up now?" Keith asked.
"Absolutely. Do you need some help there?" the tech answered.
Trying it on his own and failing without the leverage of his injured arm, Keith looked sheepishly at the young man. "Yeah," he admitted.
In an instant, the kid was there, carefully helping him up to a sit. Wincing from the sore muscles, Keith rubbed his back. "Wow…that table's not exactly a bed of roses."
The tech chuckled. "I know, I don't know why they don't at least cushion it, but I just work here."
"You sure everything's okay…I wouldn't want to have to do this again."
"Looked good to me. The oncologist will take the results and go from there." The young man smiled. "Your brother's in the other room. Okay if I send him in?"
Keith nodded, swinging his legs down to the floor. Chris entered, looking a bit concerned.
"How'd it go?"
"Okay…I think they fell asleep at the switch a couple of times, but he said it looked good. He said something about the oncologist."
Chris nodded, helping Keith down off the table. "Yeah. They have to decide just where to pinpoint the radiation to get to the tumor without killing off your healthy cells. Then they'll figure out the dosage."
"Sounds ominous to me. Too bad they just don't have a pill or something…a cure all."
"They're workin' on it, pal, they're workin' on it. Did you want to call Mom between now and then? I'm sure she's wondering what's happening."
Keith shook his head tiredly. "I wouldn't know what to say…you can if you want to. I just want to take a nap."
Chris smiled, walking his brother to the door.
###
Keith got his wish; sort of. His must have been a textbook case, because before he knew it, they had him in a hospital gown, drawn graffiti on his upper chest near his armpit and stuck him under another huge machine with pretty much the same instructions as before: Don't move! Although moving was virtually impossible, what with the heavy lead vest they'd weighed him down with. This was the radiation part, he was told. The vest was to ward off the rays from getting into his healthy tissues. So, with just his bare shoulder exposed, the machine loomed over him, shooting, they said, the powerful, cell-killing radiation into the "X" they'd branded him with in a lovely shade of red.
He was getting sleepy, lying there. He wished Chris were there to talk to him, but no one was allowed in the room because of the danger of the x-rays, the thought of which didn't really comfort him immensely…
The therapist, this time a middle-aged woman, sat behind still another glass partition, controlling the cone-shaped ray-gun as it hovered just centimeters from him. He hoped she was aware of the dosage the oncologist prescribed, because if he ended up glowing in the dark, he was going to be very upset. Danny had come up with that one, among so many others, big surprise.
"All right, Mr. Partridge, I think we're through for now." He heard the woman's voice as the machine suddenly stopped making its eerie noise. He almost expected Luke Skywalker to appear.
She entered the room, pushing the cone away from him and removing the vest. She helped him sit up and adjust the gown. There was a motherly way about her as she retied the gown at the back of his neck, then patted him on the back. "Okay, sweetie, now you shouldn't have any trouble with the area we just radiated. If you do, it will just be red for a few days and it may itch a little. The doctor can give you some cream for that. It is possible that in a couple of hours, you will feel nauseous and need to vomit, but that will pass in three or four hours. You may feel a bit crampy in your stomach, too, but again, it's only from the treatment and the effects will go away," she said, smiling at him. "Any questions?"
"Yeah, when do I have to come back?"
"Starting Monday, five days a week, for six weeks."
Keith sagged. "You're kidding."
"If you want to kill that tumor, you have to come in for the treatments. The other sessions should only last fifteen or twenty minutes. Now, I'll leave you to get dressed. Did you want me to send your brother in?"
"Sure."
She smiled, patting him on the back again and exiting.
His shirt was hanging on the rack nearby and he eased himself off the table as Chris entered.
"She said you did really well."
"I hope so. Man, six weeks of this…I hope Jay understands. And the promoters. I think I had a line up of shows next month." Keith struggled with the gown and the shirt.
Chris came to the rescue. "I'm sorry, buddy, but it's got to be. I'm sure they'll agree that your life is more important than a few cancelled tour dates." He tossed the gown aside, helping Keith on with the shirt, even if it was just one arm in one sleeve. "And speaking of showbiz, there's a reporter loose in the hospital, trying to find out what's going on. I've been avoiding him."
Keith closed his eyes. If only Ken were here now, he'd see first-hand the answer to his question. "Oh, great. Maybe we should call Reuben to fend him off. I really don't want this to get out…"
"I'm way ahead of you. Reuben's on his way this very minute."
Keith smiled wearily. "Thanks." He took a deep breath. "Well, let's go home and face the music, so to speak. I want to get in as much rehearsal as we can before these wonderful side effects begin."
Chris put his arm around him.
###
Although Keith was virtually exhausted from the treatment, he still managed to find the strength to conduct a very thorough rehearsal. He had no choice. The show was tomorrow and they were nowhere near ready. They'd gone over every song on the list; the ones that needed the most work he had them do three or four times until he was satisfied. They were getting tired, too, but Keith wasn't about to let them out of it, no matter how anybody was feeling.
Finally, after doing "It's One Of Those Nights" for the fourth time around, he called for a break. Reprieve! Danny's fingers were nearly raw from plucking the bass strings and he was the first one to lay down the instrument and head for the door. He was starving, and he voiced it loudly.
"I suppose we could call for a couple of pizzas," Shirley rubbed her knuckles. "Is that okay with everyone?"
There was a unanimous "Yes!" around the room as Keith began to double check the amplifier connections. Everything had to be just right, after all, this was their reunion concert. All of San Pueblo and the surrounding communities would be there, expecting classic Partridge Family fare, and it would be on his shoulders if they failed to deliver.
Everyone started for the house. "Coming in, honey?" Shirley asked.
"Oh, no thanks, Mom…my stomach's not exactly ready for pizza, - or anything - right now," Keith said a little feebly.
She stopped, frowning, as did Chris. "Side effects already?"
He nodded. "I'm starting to feel a little queasy."
"You need something. Tea and dry crackers will help," Chris told him.
"Maybe later." Keith swallowed.
"Don't let your body get too worn out," Chris warned. "You're very susceptible to things right now, like colds, the flu. Keep up your strength. Eat, drink…"
The latter half of that saying popped into Keith's mind, 'and be merry, for tomorrow ye may die,' but he didn't dare say it out loud.
Chris continued. "You might want to look into some vitamins, too."
Shirley saw the look on Keith's face. "Listen to Chris, honey. He knows what he's talking about."
"I know," Keith smiled oh-so-wearily. "And I'll watch it, I promise."
With an uneasy smile, Shirley went to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "See that you do."
"Watch it, Mom…you could give me something," Keith said sarcastically.
She smiled sadly, her hand on his face for a moment. Then she turned and left.
Chris shook his head. "This is killing her," he said softly.
Keith nodded. "I know…" He swallowed hard.
continued....
Now it was down to business. For Keith, that meant getting the group show-ready for tomorrow's appearance. For Chris, it was calling the hospital to arrange for his brother's radiation therapy. Keith was none too thrilled with the idea, but Chris was adamant. The sooner they began the treatments the sooner they could cure the cancer. It was simple, no holds barred.
Thus, while Keith called for a rehearsal, Chris went to the phone.
A somber group assembled in the garage that morning. No one really felt like rehearsing, but they all knew they needed it. They would do it for Keith, if nothing else.
Since they had to wait for Chris, everyone just sat around the garage, still contemplating Keith's stunning news. He'd gotten hugs from everyone, even surprisingly, Reuben, and he found it was easier to deal with it now that everybody knew. He'd been worried about how they would take it, but all was well thus far.
He was working with Danny on the guitar licks when Chris entered. "Keith, your appointment's in one hour," he announced.
Keith turned, staring. "One hour? I can't just…leave. We've got work to do."
"Sorry, pal, but it's either that or in the morning, and tomorrow's the show."
Sighing, Keith nodded. "Okay. What…does all of this involve?"
"It's radiation therapy. They'll zap the tumor externally with high- powered x-rays in hopes to kill the cell growth. It won't be painful, but there are side effects," Chris explained.
The Partridges and Reuben looked at Keith.
"Like what?" he asked.
"Well, it varies from patient to patient…most likely nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, fatigue."
Keith smiled. "Oh, nothing new, then huh?"
Chris shook his head. "Look, I don't know that they'll even do the radiation today. First they have to do what they call a simulation. They have to evaluate you, decide where to deliver the radiation and in what dosage. It's a long process."
"Hurry up and wait, is that it?" Keith looked at him.
"Exactly."
"How long will he need this treatment, honey?" Shirley stepped up behind Keith, her hands resting on his shoulders.
"Four, six weeks. He's only Stage I, so this should do it. We're lucky we caught it early. It's a tough one to diagnose."
"Yeah, all the symptoms sound like mono to me," Danny added. "And Lord knows Keith's prone to that."
A ripple of laughter filled the garage, and Keith shot his younger brother a heart-felt look. "Jealous?" he asked.
Danny grinned. "You wish," he shot back.
Keith had to smile. "Look, we have time for a couple of songs. Let's get to work, and when I get back from Three Mile Island, we'll continue, okay?"
"Okay. Hey, Chris, here's an idea…we can leave Keith's amp at home tomorrow, and just plug his guitar right into his navel. He'll be good for a couple of hours, wouldn't you say?"
"Danny," Keith sighed.
"What?"
"Shut up."
Reuben and the girls applauded, and Danny grinned wider.
###
Every muscle in Keith's body hurt. How long had he been lying here, on this cold, steel table? It felt like days. They had told him not to move while the huge machine passed over him again and again. If he moved the slightest bit, they warned, they would have to start over. This was the simulation process, Chris had explained. They were pinpointing just where the radiation was needed. Next would come the decision on the dosage. Too much radiation could really make him sick, and not enough wouldn't do him any good.
Keith stared up at the ceiling, or what he could see of it beyond the machine as it made another crawling sweep of his body. The huge monster was as noisy as it was big, and Keith imagined it was like being pinned under an eighteen-wheeler.
He was just getting used to the noise; it was lulling him to sleep, when everything suddenly stopped and he heard a voice over the intercom, "Very good, Mr. Partridge. I think we got exactly what we needed."
He looked over to see the technician, a young, bespectacled man, smiling at him through the glass partition in front of him.
"Can I sit up now?" Keith asked.
"Absolutely. Do you need some help there?" the tech answered.
Trying it on his own and failing without the leverage of his injured arm, Keith looked sheepishly at the young man. "Yeah," he admitted.
In an instant, the kid was there, carefully helping him up to a sit. Wincing from the sore muscles, Keith rubbed his back. "Wow…that table's not exactly a bed of roses."
The tech chuckled. "I know, I don't know why they don't at least cushion it, but I just work here."
"You sure everything's okay…I wouldn't want to have to do this again."
"Looked good to me. The oncologist will take the results and go from there." The young man smiled. "Your brother's in the other room. Okay if I send him in?"
Keith nodded, swinging his legs down to the floor. Chris entered, looking a bit concerned.
"How'd it go?"
"Okay…I think they fell asleep at the switch a couple of times, but he said it looked good. He said something about the oncologist."
Chris nodded, helping Keith down off the table. "Yeah. They have to decide just where to pinpoint the radiation to get to the tumor without killing off your healthy cells. Then they'll figure out the dosage."
"Sounds ominous to me. Too bad they just don't have a pill or something…a cure all."
"They're workin' on it, pal, they're workin' on it. Did you want to call Mom between now and then? I'm sure she's wondering what's happening."
Keith shook his head tiredly. "I wouldn't know what to say…you can if you want to. I just want to take a nap."
Chris smiled, walking his brother to the door.
###
Keith got his wish; sort of. His must have been a textbook case, because before he knew it, they had him in a hospital gown, drawn graffiti on his upper chest near his armpit and stuck him under another huge machine with pretty much the same instructions as before: Don't move! Although moving was virtually impossible, what with the heavy lead vest they'd weighed him down with. This was the radiation part, he was told. The vest was to ward off the rays from getting into his healthy tissues. So, with just his bare shoulder exposed, the machine loomed over him, shooting, they said, the powerful, cell-killing radiation into the "X" they'd branded him with in a lovely shade of red.
He was getting sleepy, lying there. He wished Chris were there to talk to him, but no one was allowed in the room because of the danger of the x-rays, the thought of which didn't really comfort him immensely…
The therapist, this time a middle-aged woman, sat behind still another glass partition, controlling the cone-shaped ray-gun as it hovered just centimeters from him. He hoped she was aware of the dosage the oncologist prescribed, because if he ended up glowing in the dark, he was going to be very upset. Danny had come up with that one, among so many others, big surprise.
"All right, Mr. Partridge, I think we're through for now." He heard the woman's voice as the machine suddenly stopped making its eerie noise. He almost expected Luke Skywalker to appear.
She entered the room, pushing the cone away from him and removing the vest. She helped him sit up and adjust the gown. There was a motherly way about her as she retied the gown at the back of his neck, then patted him on the back. "Okay, sweetie, now you shouldn't have any trouble with the area we just radiated. If you do, it will just be red for a few days and it may itch a little. The doctor can give you some cream for that. It is possible that in a couple of hours, you will feel nauseous and need to vomit, but that will pass in three or four hours. You may feel a bit crampy in your stomach, too, but again, it's only from the treatment and the effects will go away," she said, smiling at him. "Any questions?"
"Yeah, when do I have to come back?"
"Starting Monday, five days a week, for six weeks."
Keith sagged. "You're kidding."
"If you want to kill that tumor, you have to come in for the treatments. The other sessions should only last fifteen or twenty minutes. Now, I'll leave you to get dressed. Did you want me to send your brother in?"
"Sure."
She smiled, patting him on the back again and exiting.
His shirt was hanging on the rack nearby and he eased himself off the table as Chris entered.
"She said you did really well."
"I hope so. Man, six weeks of this…I hope Jay understands. And the promoters. I think I had a line up of shows next month." Keith struggled with the gown and the shirt.
Chris came to the rescue. "I'm sorry, buddy, but it's got to be. I'm sure they'll agree that your life is more important than a few cancelled tour dates." He tossed the gown aside, helping Keith on with the shirt, even if it was just one arm in one sleeve. "And speaking of showbiz, there's a reporter loose in the hospital, trying to find out what's going on. I've been avoiding him."
Keith closed his eyes. If only Ken were here now, he'd see first-hand the answer to his question. "Oh, great. Maybe we should call Reuben to fend him off. I really don't want this to get out…"
"I'm way ahead of you. Reuben's on his way this very minute."
Keith smiled wearily. "Thanks." He took a deep breath. "Well, let's go home and face the music, so to speak. I want to get in as much rehearsal as we can before these wonderful side effects begin."
Chris put his arm around him.
###
Although Keith was virtually exhausted from the treatment, he still managed to find the strength to conduct a very thorough rehearsal. He had no choice. The show was tomorrow and they were nowhere near ready. They'd gone over every song on the list; the ones that needed the most work he had them do three or four times until he was satisfied. They were getting tired, too, but Keith wasn't about to let them out of it, no matter how anybody was feeling.
Finally, after doing "It's One Of Those Nights" for the fourth time around, he called for a break. Reprieve! Danny's fingers were nearly raw from plucking the bass strings and he was the first one to lay down the instrument and head for the door. He was starving, and he voiced it loudly.
"I suppose we could call for a couple of pizzas," Shirley rubbed her knuckles. "Is that okay with everyone?"
There was a unanimous "Yes!" around the room as Keith began to double check the amplifier connections. Everything had to be just right, after all, this was their reunion concert. All of San Pueblo and the surrounding communities would be there, expecting classic Partridge Family fare, and it would be on his shoulders if they failed to deliver.
Everyone started for the house. "Coming in, honey?" Shirley asked.
"Oh, no thanks, Mom…my stomach's not exactly ready for pizza, - or anything - right now," Keith said a little feebly.
She stopped, frowning, as did Chris. "Side effects already?"
He nodded. "I'm starting to feel a little queasy."
"You need something. Tea and dry crackers will help," Chris told him.
"Maybe later." Keith swallowed.
"Don't let your body get too worn out," Chris warned. "You're very susceptible to things right now, like colds, the flu. Keep up your strength. Eat, drink…"
The latter half of that saying popped into Keith's mind, 'and be merry, for tomorrow ye may die,' but he didn't dare say it out loud.
Chris continued. "You might want to look into some vitamins, too."
Shirley saw the look on Keith's face. "Listen to Chris, honey. He knows what he's talking about."
"I know," Keith smiled oh-so-wearily. "And I'll watch it, I promise."
With an uneasy smile, Shirley went to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "See that you do."
"Watch it, Mom…you could give me something," Keith said sarcastically.
She smiled sadly, her hand on his face for a moment. Then she turned and left.
Chris shook his head. "This is killing her," he said softly.
Keith nodded. "I know…" He swallowed hard.
continued....