and went to find Margaret. “ Marg , my hair is falling out. I’m going need you or Bob to cut the rest of it short for me. I’m sorry to be such a burden on you two. God, I’m so sick of being sick! Death is beginning to look a whole lot better than this.” “Daniel Tennant, don’t let me hear you talking like that. You’re not a burden. You have a lot to be thankful for and this won’t last forever. You’ll get through it. You have a lot of people who are praying for you and who care for you. Angela called again. She wants to see you and so do the folks from the office. I can’t keep putting everyone off.” “I really don’t feel like seeing anyone right now, Margaret, especially now that my hair is falling out. I look sick. Tell Angela I’ll call her when I’m feeling better and let the folks know that I appreciate their cards and good wishes. I don’t know Marg , I just don’t have the energy or inclination to see anyone and answer questions about how I feel. I just feel empty. My hair falling out is just the last straw. I can’t imagine it can get any worse than this.” “Maybe you should see a therapist,” suggested Margaret. “Margaret if I have to see anyone else in the medical profession, that would definitely make me lose it. Don’t worry about me. As you said, I’ll get through this. I’ve got through a lot of things in my life. Granted this is the worst, but I’ve had a lot of preparation.”
Later that evening
“Daniel,” said Margaret knocking softly at his bedroom door. Daniel was lying in bed in the dark. He’d come back from therapy several hours ago and had just crawled into bed after another bout of vomiting. “What is it Margaret?” His voice was weak and he sounded so low that she hated to add to his depression with the news she just got. “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you, Daniel,” she said softly. “Your father’s wife just called. I’m afraid that he lost the battle with the cancer today, Daniel. I’m so sorry.” Daniel froze. Not now! He already felt sick and weak and now this! His father was dead. He remembered how sick he had looked the day he came to see him in his office when he asked for his forgiveness and he hadn’t given it. Now he was gone and he would never see him again, never have the chance to say that he forgave him. Regret jack-hammered a path through his heart leaving in its wake a gaping chasm that he felt nothing could ever fill. He remembered telling Margaret caustically that he hoped he lived to regret it. Well he had and he never imagined that it would hurt so bad . Finally he said weakly: “I can’t take anything else Marg. I feel like I’m drowning. I said earlier that things couldn’t get any worse, but I was wrong.”
One month later
The orderly pushed Daniel’s chair through doors that were labeled Physiotherapy Department . He’d insisted that Margaret leave him at the hospital and come back later. This was to be first therapy session and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Having gone through six weeks of radiotherapy he’d had enough of hospitals, doctors and therapists. He just wanted to get well! At least his last MRI had showed no sign of the remaining tumor but his head still hurt sometimes and he still hadn’t fully regained his balance or strength. He’d also lost weight and his hair had not grown back as yet, so he was wearing a cap which made him feel unlike himself. He had never imagined getting back to normal would take this long or be this hard. His father’s death had set him back more than he cared to admit but he was determined to put all that behind him and get on with life. Daniel looked around the large room and saw patients on all kinds of equipment. Some were exercising their arms and legs using weight machines, some were struggling to walk using parallel bars to hold them up and the more advanced ones were on treadmills. He felt conspicuous