As I later found out, I woke up late in the night, closer to midnight, so after Denise delivered her analysis, she excused herself so I could get some rest and perhaps some of her own.
Carl hasn't said a word. I think he's just as shocked as I am. I mean, who'd have thought. Cancer. As if the world wasn't shitty enough.
"I should have pushed harder," Carl says finally, I turn to him and he looks like he may be fighting off tears. I have to restrain my own, I can't cry now. Not even now.
"What?" I look at him like he's grown a second head.
"If I had pushed harder to get you to go see a doctor, then maybe-"
I cut him off, "Don't be stupid, Carl. It's not like finding out any sooner would've done me any good. You can't blame yourself for this."
He doesn't look satisfied by this. But I can't bring myself to admit that there's nothing they're going to be able to do for me. They couldn't cure cancer in the old world, the height of medical advances and technology; they sure as hell can't now.
We don't even know how bad it is. I could live for a while yet. There's no reason to treat it like the end of the world.
But I could also not. It could kill me tomorrow.
Panic rises in my chest. What am I going to do?
"How much do the others know?" I ask, a new thought burning in my mind.
Carl shakes his head, "They only know whatever might have gotten around. I haven't left, and no one has been here, so I'd say they probably don't know much."
"Then who got Judy?" good, distract yourself with the little things.
"I'm sure they know something is wrong, Beth probably got her. Don't-"
I interrupt him, "You should go. At least tell your dad what's going on. That way they don't get the wrong idea." I don't really want him to leave, but I need to figure out things on my own. And I don't want him to see what I'm afraid might happen.
He studies me for a moment, "Are you sure? You'll be ok?"
I try to give him a reassuring smile, "Yes, I'll be fine. I promise."
He lets out a defeated sigh. He stands up and leans over me, kissing my forehead, "I'll be back in a couple hours."
I run my hand over his forearm, "You probably need some sleep too, just come back in the morning."
"It is morning," he points out, "Just super early." There's a slight grin on his face, and I find it within myself to smile back.
"Well then come back later this morning, dork." I kiss him for real and then he finally pulls away and starts to head for the door. He grips the door frame and turns around at the last moment.
"I love you, bookworm," his smile is sad and it makes my heart hurt.
"I love you too, sheriff." my smile is equally as weak and fades as he turns his back and heads out the door.
The back of my head hits my pillow and I stare at the ceiling.
It honestly doesn't feel real.
Cancer? Me. No. Never.
You'd think in a world already up to its ears in shit wouldn't have any room for cancer and crap like that. It's just not fair. My death has been all but laid out before me. How ignoble is that? To go out that way and all. I mean, I could have my face eaten off, or shot fatally trying to save those I love. But no. Cancer. I'm going to lie here and die, weaker and weaker until it takes me over and I'm gone. And my kind, being in the brain will surely mean my mind will just deteriorate until I'm useless. No intelligent thoughts, no powers of observation. I'm going to lose what made me, me.
That's when the tears start to fall.
The silence that I all but demanded becomes too much, it rings in my ears and I need something else. Anything else.
"It's just not fair!" I scream, I know I shouldn't, other people are trying to sleep. But hey, it's filling the silence.
"Why me?!" I yell at the still air around me. Not expecting an answer, but I do it anyway.
"What did I ever do to deserve this?!" my chest shakes and I let in a shaky gulp of air. I sit up, drawing my knees to my chest.
I rest my head against my knees, "I don't want to die," my voice cracks and it comes out a broken whisper as tears hit my sheets.
I wrap my arms around my legs and I cry like that until I'm exhausted and I suppose I pass out.
A nurse comes into the room, sometime after the sun rises, waking me up. In the early morning light, I recognize the nurse.
"Rosita?" I ask. She wears more covering clothing than I remember, but she still wears that cap with her hair in pigtails and those dumb hoop earrings. If you ask me, with earrings like that, she was asking to get grabbed by a walker. But that's in past.
She smiles kindly, "Hey Sam, I just came to bring you some breakfast." she gestures to the tray in her hands.
"You found a job." Wow, that sounded a lot harsher than I originally intended.
Rosita shrugged, "Douglas figured I'd be best here, and that was that." she sets the tray on the table next to me, "How about you? I heard some pretty ugly stories about why you're here."
"That's one way to put it." I grimace, "Apparently, Denise-"
"Doctor Cloyd," Rosita interrupts.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes, do I really care? It doesn't change things, "Yeah, her. Anyway, she decided that I have uncontrolled cell growth occurring in my cranium region."
Rosita shakes her head, "That is the strangest way I've ever heard someone explain they've been diagnosed with brain cancer, kid." she gives me a sad look, "That really sucks."
Oh really? I hadn't noticed.
"I mean, look at it this way, at least you'll have plenty of time to prepare yourself and say goodbye. It's actually not too bad a way to go, in terms of other ways these days." How the hell is that supposed to make me feel better? I'll have more time to suffer and feel pain? To slowly lose my mind until I'm lying in bed, staring at the ceiling blankly, shitting myself. Yeah, sounds pretty damn great if you ask me.
"How can you say that." my lip curls at her. She doesn't get it. She cannot possibly understand the hopelessness I feel. This is not an optimal way to die. I'd take any other way.
Her lips draw to a line, "I was just trying to help." She sets down the tray and then turns to leave. She walks out the door, but quickly pops her head back in, "You have visitors."
"Ok, he can come in," I shrug, not caring anymore. It's probably just Carl anyway.
Well, I'm partially right.
Carl enters first, followed by Daryl and Beth.
"Hey," Carl smiles at me, it's not genuine, or at least I don't believe so, because I can still see the guilt that shrouds his eye. He walks over to my side and his fingers graze my cheekbone. There's something different, something wrong, this is not the Carl that left me last night.
"You brought company," I refer to Beth and Daryl
"Yeah, the others are outside, but they wanted to come in first." Carl looks at his feet, he's obviously uncomfortable, "Judith's out there."
My heart aches a little at the mention of Carl's younger sister; she'll never be able to understand.
"How much did you tell them?" I ask quietly.
"Just about the seizure, I figured you'd want to be the one to tell them." he replies, matching my volume. This is not what I wanted. I don't know how to tell them. I turn my head to Beth and Daryl who still linger slightly by the door. I wave for them to come closer.
Beth has a visible bump now. She announced it to everyone a couple weeks ago, probably because she was getting too big to hide it anymore.
"Hey," she smiles the warm, comforting way Beth does best, "How are you feeling?"
I definitely feel stronger than yesterday, considering I can move more without getting absolutely nauseated, "Better," I try to return the smile, "I'll probably be out of here before tomorrow."
Carl loses his mask of total lack of emotion as physical shock overtakes his face, "Sam, what are you talking about? You can't leave. You gotta stay here... you gotta stay where the doctors can take of you." he presses. That's how shocked I know he must be, he wouldn't bring this up when Daryl and Beth here if he wasn't. Or maybe he's just releasing what's been building up inside of him, either way, it's not favorable.
Daryl narrows his eyes at Carl, he's suspectful, "I don' see why she can't. I mean, if she feels up to it, it's her own damn business." he rests a hand against my shoulder blade, "She's a fighter, if she's that quick to get back on her feet, I don' see why she can't."
Beth looks at her husband, then to Carl, then to me, she rests a hand on my shoulder, "Daryl's got a point Carl, as awful as it may be, it doesn't mean she needs to kept here. If she's healthy-"
"But she's not!" Carl blurts out.
Beth frowns, tilting her head cautiously, "Carl, it was one seizure. I understand it was a horrific, unexpected thing but-"
"Don't you get it?!" Carl's arms are trembling, he should've told them. He shouldn't have kept it in. Oh Carl.
"I have cancer," I tell them, let's not make this any more difficult than it has to be.
"Whut?" Daryl's eyes grow wide as they look at me, conveying more fearful emotion than I've ever seen.
"Sam, what are you talking about?" Beth suddenly gets very serious. She takes a cautious step towards me. I knew this would happen.
"The doctor evaluated me, and to the best of her abilities, she diagnosed me with... with brain cancer." I try to keep my tone steady, they can't know how scared I really am.
"Sam!" Beth exclaims, "But... how?" her thin eyebrows knit together and she looks me over in utter disbelief, mouth slightly agape.
I shake my head, "If I knew, I'd tell you."
Daryl squats next to me, so we're closer to the same height, "Are ya sure?"
Daryl's been the closest thing I've ever had to a father figure since my own father's passing, he's taught me so much, and to see him now, it's really something else. He's never been a man of many words, or emotions for that matter.
"I mean, as sure as I can be right now." I shrug.
"Can't they do anything?" Beth asks, her eyes look so dismayed.
I shouldn't have said anything. I shouldn't have upset her.
I'm such a terrible person.
I shrug, "Den- Dr. Cloyd didn't really discuss options with me, just the diagnosis, and it's nothing official, just matching symptoms to answers." I try and turn things around.
"So there's a chance?" Beth's eyes widen at the chance of optimism.
"Yeah, I mean it could all just be a terrible coincidence." I go along with her hope.
She searches deeper, "Do they have any of those PET scanners here? Like they used to have in the old world?"
I shake my head, "I don't think so."
Daryl's eyebrows knit, "So tha's it? Ya just take the word a some could be doctor? Maybe she's bullshittin' ya. Maybe she ain't really a doctor and tells ev'ryone she meets they got the cancer."
I shake my head again, "I wish, she seemed pretty serious about it."
That doesn't settle well.
Daryl looks down, thinking for a moment, "So say you do..." he cuts off, his voice becomes hoarse and low, "have cancer," he clears his throat and starts up again, "how long do ya think ya got?"
Hell if I know, "Dunno." I shrug meekly.
Carl hasn't said a word through all of this. He's not even really looking at me anymore, he's glaring at something that's not there, jaw set hard.
"Carl, could you go wait in the hall for a bit, so Daryl and I would just like to speak to Sam alone," Beth requests.
The only way he acknowledges he heard her, is by heading at the door at a solid, empty pace, hands stuffed in his pockets. The door shuts fairly loudly behind him.
"We knew something was wrong when neither of you picked up Judith, and when you didn't come to dinner. Rick had his suspicions, but nothing he let onto Judy about. Then Carl shows up at our house so late - luckily Rick was over. His eyes all red, we all knew Rick was wrong. When he told us, he seemed very cold about it, and not once did he look at any of us. He just stared into space, like he was just now. I haven't seen anything like it from him a long time, Sam." Beth tells the story, and I admit, I'm still wondering what the point of it all is.
"He's damn torn up about the whole thang. Didn't speak after he told us what happened, n' then he just left. Didn't talk at breakfast neither, until lil' asskicker asked where ya was." Daryl looks at me dead in the eyes, and there's masked pain behind his given emotion.
"How… how did he tell her," I gulp, looking nervously at the two.
"Said ya was sick," Daryl explains, "I figured there was more to what he sayin', but I'd never have thought somethin' like this."
"What we're trying to say," Beth cuts in, "is he ain't right in the head anymore. This diagnosis, it's taken this toll on him. I'm worried for both of y'all, Sam. We just wanted you to know that. Now we'll get out of your hair, but please keep us... updated."
I nod in response, "Can I see her? Judy I mean," I ask
"Yeah," Beth nods, "She's right outside."
Daryl stands as Beth heads to the door, "I love ya, kid. Don't go dyin' on me, 'K?" Daryl rests his hand on the top of my head and ruffles my already messy hair.
"'K," I falsely promise, it's not like I can control that kind of stuff.
He follows Beth out the door and a couple moments later Judith runs through the door, closely followed by Carl and then Rick.
"Sam! Sam!" Judith squeals excitedly, her little hands rest on the bed and her big green eyes look up at me happily.
Carl's still not really talking and Rick closes the door behind him, then leans next to the door frame. Carl goes to my other side and Judith pulls herself up onto the bed. Rick looks to me, to see if he should correct her or not, I give the slightest shake of my head and then my attention goes to her. She sits on my bed with her legs tucked under her.
"Hey Judy! How have you been?" I smile at her, as authentically as I can manage.
"Very good!" she tells me matter-of-factly. She looks at me over for a moment and then frowns, "Cawl said you were sick, you don't look sick."
"I'm feeling much better now actually," I tell her.
Her eyes look sadly at me, "Does that mean you'll be home soon?"
"Yes, sweetie, I'll be home very soon," I promise.
Her frown turns upside down and she bounces on her knees a little, "Then you can read more stories?"
Her energy is too positive to not smile, "Of course, whatever stories you want."
"Good!" she beams, "Cawl's comic books are good, but not as good as your stories." her smile is so sweet and innocent it hurts. She has no idea. No. Idea.
"Thank you Judy," I grin back at her, "Tell you what, if I'm still here tomorrow, bring a book when you come to visit, and I'll read it to you."
"Really?" her face fills with delight, "Ok!"
Then she looks at Carl for his reaction, but he's zoned out or something, with that same blank look on his face.
She turns back to me, her little eyebrows knit together, mouth bent to a straight line, and her head tilts trying to understand, "Why is Cawl sad?"
Her words are heartbreaking. And I have to bite my tongue, trying to think of a way to tell her, or to lie.
"He's not sad, it's just, since I'm here, he doesn't get any stories either and he misses them." I give her a reassuring smile.
"Oh, ok." she perks back up
Rick takes this opportunity to step in, "Come on Judy, Beth needs to take you to Paula's."
"See you later!" Judy climbs off the bed and toddles back over to Rick, who leads her out and comes back a moment later.
"So, what's really goin' on?" he asks, walking closer to the foot of the bed.
"I have cancer," I hate those words. I hate them, I hate them, I hate them.
Rick's eyes grow wide and his gaze go from me to his son and back to me, he takes in a deep breath and runs his hand over his beard. He thinks for a while longer as he tries to collect something to say. Finally he gives a slow, almost painful nod, "I'm sorry. That's... terrible."
"So I've heard," maybe I'm being too bitter about this.
The door opens and it's Dr. Cloyd, "Hey Sam, I was hoping we could discuss some... options you've got."
I nod, "Please come in." Dr. Cloyd sits in the empty chair to my right.
"How are you feeling this morning?" she asks firstly.
"Much better," I inform her
She nods, "Good," she looks at her clipboard with the notes, "Now, about your condition."
"Is there any way we can tell for sure whether your diagnosis is correct?" Carl demands
Denise nods, "Yes I was just getting to that."
Carl mumbles something that sounds like good, and he sits down next to me on the bed, his hands wrapping around one of mine.
"We don't have the facilities here to test it of course, but there is a hospital with a backup generator not too far away that should have a PET scanner. We can make sure it's cleared out and get you up there within a couple days- a week at most."
"And say you're right," my voice drops out, struggling to make it past a broken, nervous whisper, "then what happens."
Dr. Cloyd's expression goes grim, too grim, nothing good can come from this, "Then we find out how long you've got."
"You can't treat it?" Carl's tone is a deadly calm, I'd be less concerned if he was screaming and angry, "You can't give her any more time?"
Dr. Cloyd shakes her head, a grimace upon her face, "We don't have access to the kind of treatment she would need. I'm very sorry, she's got to fight this battle on her own."
Carl remains silent and Rick looks from me to Carl and back.
No one says anything for five or ten minutes, Denise begins to stand when Carl speaks up.
"Hold on Dr. Cloyd, could you stay for just a moment longer," then he looks at me, "Sam, can we please discuss this idea about you leaving here, today or tomorrow?"
I turn to him and shake my head, "What are they gonna do for me Carl? There's no point in me sitting here on my ass wasting valuable resources, I have to pull my own weight, I'm not gonna let myself be useless. If I stay here until I die, I'll just lose my mind faster, staring at these goddamn walls all day long. I don't want that." I tell him bluntly, trying to put a little more empathy into my words, I try again, "I want enjoy what days I have left Carl. I've been given today, I may not get tomorrow. But then again, you may not either. So we have to enjoy it while we have it. If you think about it, not much has changed. We've trained our minds for the fact that we may not live to see tomorrow, but you don't take it into account with stuff like this." I gesture to the room around us, "So maybe I can't go on like this forever, hell knows I haven't got that long. But until it becomes unsafe for me to live my 'normal' life, I want to live it that way. I'm sure they can hook me up with some pain medication here for the headaches and maybe something for the nausea, but other than that, she just said there's nothing else they can do. So why, why can't I leave?"
I'm not sure whether I believe what I just said or not, maybe I'm losing my mind faster than I thought, or maybe I said it to try and put Carl's mind to rest.
To my surprise, Dr. Cloyd nods, "I think you going home will be fine, for the time being, as long as you're healthy enough to maintain a normal job. We'll release you the day you do the tests, after that, you're free. That way we can eliminate any unforeseen variables."
I guess I can live with that, "Thank you Dr. Cloyd."
"No problem." she tries to give me a reassuring smile, then she stands to leave, "Hang tough, kid, we're rooting for you."
She shuts the door behind her, and I know what I have to do now, "Rick, would you mind giving Carl and I a moment alone?"
His brow tugs down for a second, but it lightens back up and he nods, "Sure." He turns from the foot of the bed and is gone a moment later.
"You can't do this," I shake my head at Carl.
"Do what?" he narrows his eyes
"Shut people out. Act like I'm already gone. The world is not over, Carl. It won't even be over once I am gone, so please don't act all cold and... well how you were acting earlier and apparently how you've been acting since you left here last. Your sister noticed, Carl. Judith. The four year old. She asked why you were sad. That's just not ok!" it feels like my heart is crushing in on itself, "She looks up to you. You have to set a good example. And what'll happen when I'm gone? What will she see then? What is she going to think? I don't want that kid to turn cold, she's been given a chance here. But if you show her the you that acts all mopey and shit all the time, she'll never know."
I'm running out of reasonable things to say.
One last thing, "Please, fake it. Just around her, if nothing else. Don't let her learn too young what a terrible place this world is."