Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
They walked out the door, her hand tucked safely inside his, and my heart completely melted. Whether it worried me if it was right or wrong to allow her to call him daddy, didn’t matter. It made her happy. The smile hadn’t left her face all morning, something of a miracle these days.
After a few quiet tears in the bathroom, a mixture of happy and sad, I felt my first true moment of peace. Some normalcy, although nothing normal at all, seemed to be back.
I went to the grocery store, something I normally hate because it’s just a big battle of “what can I afford?” but really didn’t mind. Crew sent me a couple of pics of Ever on the swings, a smile so wide on her face that I couldn’t help but beam in the middle of the produce department. On the way home, I called Human Resources and updated them on what was going on with Everleigh.
And then Crew and I went to Castle Island and all hell broke loose. We rushed her to the ER and they admitted her. Luckily, it was something they were able to control with fluids and more antibiotics, although she never seemed to regain the energy she had before she got so sick.
This was the first time she really, really looked as sick as they said she was. She looked almost . . . lifeless. And there’s no pamphlet, no television show, no pictures, or no lectures from doctors or nurses that can ever prepare you for that. To see your normally vibrant daughter without hair, puking into a bucket, trying to cry but having no tears, trying to talk but having no voice, trying to smile but having no energy or color in her cheeks . . . it’s soul crushing. Hell cannot be worse.
I am sitting in the yellow room at the hospital, in the middle of another round of chemo. A round that is devastating my baby girl in every way. It’s such a contrast to the first round, her sweet face swollen, pain in her tummy that’s so bad she can barely even cry. It’s hell on earth. Pure, absolute, living hell.
It makes no sense logically to think she has to be so abused to get better. It’s even harder to explain to her. Looking into her little face, telling her I can’t take her home, I can’t make it stop, is nothing short of devastating. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.
Ever stirs and stretches. I stand and climb into her bed, careful not to disturb her cords. She shivers and I cover her with a blanket, wishing I could do something. That’s the hardest part, not being able to use your hands to fix it, to make it better. It’s beyond difficult to put your trust in people and poison.
I hear my phone ring and I glance at the clock. Crew. Every day on his lunch break, he calls. I grab it off the bedside table
“Hey,” I whisper, trying not to wake Ever.
“Hey, love. What’s goin’ on over there?”
I smile at the term of endearment he’s started using for me. I sigh and climb back out of bed and curl up on the couch beneath the window. “She’s still in a lot of pain. They gave her more meds an hour or so ago and she’s sleeping now.”
“I wish I could be there,” he says, and I know he means it. He managed to swing by last night after training. I’m not sure how he keeps going. I’m in awe of him.
“Me, too. I miss you.”
I know he’s smiling. I know he’s shaking his head, maybe even running a hand across his scalp.
“I miss you both.”
There’s a long pause. I imagine his face, his full lips, his gorgeous eyes. I miss him so much. He’s quickly become the light in my life, my lifeline in this disaster.
“Do you need anything? Will gets off early today. I can send him by.”
“All I need is you. So if that can’t happen . . .” I’m only teasing, but I know he took it wrong. “Crew, I didn’t mean that like that.”
“I know. I need you, too.” He shifts the phone, the line going fuzzy. “I gotta train tonight and Sal wants to talk about the media bullshit for the fight.”
“What’s that mean?”
“There will have to be a couple interviews and shit to drive sales. This is a pay-per-view event. So we have to do a few things for them to get people to wanna buy it.”
This is all new to me. I don’t know a lot about fighting, I don’t know a lot about this fight Crew has taken on, as I haven’t had time to deal with it. Crew doesn’t want to discuss it when I do bring it up. I feel like in some ways, we’re living in two separate worlds in order to live in the same one half the time. It’s frustrating and isolating.