Chapter 1

The warm, morning sun coats the room as time ticks lazily by.

Everyone here is either relaxing or working on some part of their body that needs strengthening. The trainers are nice and easygoing as they teach their clients new techniques and the yoga instructor draws out every word softly and quietly to create a pseudo calm environment. There is a small waterfall fountain next to a mural of a peaceful body of water resting underneath a sunset that would make Thomas Kinkade proud. In the back corner with the rest of the yoga participants quietly breathing away their troubles you can hear the faint melody of The Offspring’s, you’re gonna go far kid.

Every time the instructor says another word I slowly breathe in and out…. every unspoken swear word I can think of. ‘What part of my personal survey indicated that I would like yoga as a way to relax?’ I say to myself trying again to think of ways to get out of another class. ‘It’s the last one so just get it over with.’ Al, Allison as her parents called her when she was in trouble, sat there with the other cancer patients doing relaxing stretches and only half listening to the instructor’s guided imagery story; something about a snow covered cabin. She didn’t like the cold; she loved the snow but just couldn’t handle the cold like she use to. This is thanks to her new friend and live in roommate; cancer. Her surgery was tomorrow, the big one, but that did mean these slow death yoga classes would end so apparently every cloud does have a silver lining.

Although it was a fitness room for hospital patients it actually was somewhat welcoming. There aren’t any big machines or hospital beds just exercise equipment and massage tables. A massage sounds great right now but of course I get the cancer that hurts when when someone touches me too hard. “Stupid bone cancer.” I say under my breath as the yoga instructor goes into another location. Now we are at a beach. I knew we would get there eventually. “You say something?” Jeff asks. He is the only, and I mean only, person I talk to here. Not to be self-centered but I do have my own cancer to worry about and I don’t really want others to pile on theirs. Jeff doesn’t talk about his side effects though. Maybe because he doesn’t want to talk about it or he knows people have their own problems or whatever the reason, he does not emit self-pity… I like that.

“Stupid cancer.” I say just loud enough for him to hear. Apparently there is no sickness allowed at the beach or the cabin or wherever we are now.

“Stupid cancer.” He smiles and raises a pretend glass in salute and I do the same.

~

Getting up from my spot on the floor after an hour is harder than it seems when you are sick. Sick, being an understatement. I walk over to the corner that has the colorful stretchy rope things and grab one to begin my exercises. This part I actually like doing, moving in a way that doesn’t cause more pain and actually helps calm my nerves. I skip to the next song on my ‘stick it to the man’ playlist as I call it, “Eye of the Tiger” is always appropriate when you want to conquer something. Although sometimes playing it around here has the opposite effect and reminds me what I won’t be able to do anymore. Plus it is kind of tired and used in movies and books too much. Next song, “Cherry Bomb” much better.

Setting up to do arm stretches I see the door leading outside open and a man walk through. Man is the only descriptive word that is coming to my mind right now because this man is so attractive it almost seems unnecessary. I would say plastic surgery but I want to be hopeful. Blackish brown short cut hair, blue eyes, medium skin color, and stubble that doesn’t look like he has a hangover or a slob. Yep, my every turn on. I haven’t even looked below his neck… bingo; muscles that dare you not to be impressed. And there goes my focus, out the door followed closely by my dignity as I realize I am staring because he is also staring and smiling back. Smirking is more like it, probably because he is used to girls ogling and his male “I’m invincible” ego soars like an eagle on weed. I wasn’t ogling by the way just staring, like a creep. Remembering that these unnatural good looks often come with a personality out of the dark ages I find my focus and listen to my music which oddly sounds very different now. Figures.

~

Singing the words to Smash Mouth’s All Star in my head, because singing out loud gets you weird and annoyed looks, I focus on my exercises the physical therapist gave me. “These will help build up the muscle strength that you will need while you are recovering after your surgery.” Although she was being very nice and would occasionally ask how I was managing, I was still coming off the shock of ‘You have cancer’ so my responses were usually a reserved “I’m fine.” Being told you will need your strength just to survive your recovery is not the most inspiring thing someone can say but, I hate when people sugarcoat their words so I appreciate my therapists and doctor’s candor. I don’t like false hope; it leaves you unprepared and vulnerable and if there is one thing I don’t like to be its vulnerable.

‘I have cancer’ I sigh as I pull on the weights. This is one of those instances that being one in a million is a bad thing. Malignant Fibrous Histiocytoma, a form of bone and soft tissue cancer typically found in legs or arms. Mine is located in my left arm towards my shoulder which is why most of my therapy is upper body. When the doctors first started scheduling all these scans and tests I thought this was a lot of trouble for some shoulder pain but then I saw the mass on the scan and it was all a little hazy after that. Luckily my doctor was really good about not beating around the bush about what needed to be done. Some patients may not like that kind of frank approach when their life just took a dark twist but I need that, it helped me accept reality a lot faster.

Almost done with my exercises I notice the man from earlier.

“Who is the new patient?” I ask Jeff, who had started strength training for his leg. Who would have thought a healthy college senior would have a stroke.

“He isn’t a patient. I don’t know who he is but he comes and talks to Oliver.” He says without looking up from his spot on the floor lifting his left leg. If he hadn’t been in such good shape before the stroke his rehab might have been harder but he is doing really well. I am happy for him and even more happy that once he is done with therapy he is done with this place. Tiny sparks of jealousy hit me sometimes but jealousy isn’t going to make us trade places or even fix me a little. I have enjoyed our conversations, mostly about the latest movies and sports; sometimes I share my music during yoga. The doctors are right; having someone does make it easier.  Today is my last day, the day before the surgery. I will have to come back for a progress report of some sort, just to make sure I am coping but that will be months after.  Jeff has another week but if both our treatment plans go as expected, this is the last time I will see him.

“I hope I never see you again Jeff.” I say to him with a genuine smile.

He laughs, “Yeah, I won’t be sad to see you go either Al.” he continues with his leg lifts.

Looking back I see the man talking to who I assume is Oliver, one of the older patients. I finish up and put my equipment back. I say my goodbye and an overly enthusiastic but none the less meaningful good luck to Jeff. Then we hug solemnly and I leave.

~

Doctor Nevaus has been my doctor since the beginning, which was only a month ago. Something I didn’t realize until after I got cancer, most of the talks with your doctor are in their office. Maybe that’s why it looks comfortable because he is always here. The essentials like a desk, filing cabinets, office chair are present but instead of tacky and hard waiting room chairs he has a small couch a couple stuffed chairs for his patients. He also has a bunch of pictures of family and friends placed anywhere there is space. Not the stuffy and staged portrait kind but of captured moments. Today he is giving me a final walkthrough of my surgery tomorrow and making sure I am ready.

“Your radiation treatments have gone great; the size of the tumor now will make removal easier. We will get you admitted and prepped and by 7 a.m. we will begin surgery. Aside from the cancer, given your overall health I estimate about a week maybe nine days then you can go home. You said your parents will be flying in?”

“Yes, they will be here before it starts but will be going back to my place to wait and move in, they are going to be helping me when I get home.” At first when they said they were flying here I didn’t think it was necessary but who am I kidding. I am still a 12 year old girl when it comes to them and I wouldn’t want it any other way. They wanted to stay for the whole surgery but I convinced them that it was too long to be sitting in a waiting room and told them a nurse would call and give them updates. On top of having a great doctor he also has an amazing and thoughtful nurse practitioner.

“That is great to hear. Knowing you I was afraid that you would say you could do this on your own. I know that you can but when you don’t have to it seems silly.” He says giving me a look that I am sure has him thinking ‘You had better let them wait on you hand and foot because if you don’t take it easy, I will know.’

“At first I wasn’t a fan of them staying with me but then I realized that means mom will be doing the cooking. So you won’t have to worry about me loosing weight or not eating. She won’t give me a choice.” I am actually very happy my parents will be coming, I miss them.

“Good, sounds like I won’t have to guilt trip or threaten you to take it easy then. I was fully prepared to do so. I was even going to hire a private detective to run surveillance for me.” He smiled, while he might not actually hire a P.I. I do believe he would check on me or call me and criticize why I was answering the phone and not sleeping. He was a good doctor and I was glad to have him on my side.

“Do you have any questions?”

“No, I think I am good. I am going home to get stuff ready and probably psych myself out with a bunch of worst case scenarios.” I knew this surgery was going to help me so I was actually pretty calm which Doctor Nevaus could tell given his smile.

“Yes well, feel free to call me when you actually start believing them.” he said smiling at me.

I thank him for all he has done and leave his office. Looking at my phone the time reads 3:47 p.m. 

Only sixteen hours and thirteen minuets to go.

Reviews

[Unpeeled_Banana]

This story has a very solid platform. I love the main character's spunky relative attitude and behavior. She is someone easy to root for in a story. Your descriptions are very good as well, especially in the beginning.

Some critique to consider would be to begin with the whole cancer premise. It is more eye-catching to begin that way rather than describing the yoga room. The yoga descriptions are great, but I would have liked to know that the narrator has cancer right from the beginning.

In the 2nd paragraph, it says "Al, Allison as her parents called her..." For a moment I thought this story was 3rd person, then 1st person. Then I thought that maybe Al was describing another person, until Jeff called her Al--so just change the word "her" to "me". Also, the last sentence of the 2nd paragraph needs to be broken up somehow. When I read it straight through, I was confused and had to pause and read it again.

On that note, it would help to break up some of your sentences. You have many great complex sentence structures but some of them hinder the story's progress. Also, maybe shortening the paragraphs as well. Conciseness.

"This was thanks to her new live-in roommate, cancer." In this story, the word "cancer" is mentioned a lot. For this sentence in particular, if you like this sentence, maybe clarify it as what form of cancer she has so that the word cancer itself does not become redundant. After a while, I found myself whispering, "Okay, I get that she has cancer." There is no need to remind the audience. Merely working around that word and focusing more on symptoms would connect with audiences more.

Overall I love this story. I want to know how Al's surgery goes and who the hot guy is. You don't have to take any of my feedback to heart, since you know your story better than anyone and you know what's good for it.