Shocked and Shattered Read online

  Also, by giving chemo before the tumour is removed, doctors can better see how the cancer responds. If the first set of drugs do not shrink the tumour, your doctor will know that other drugs are needed.

  For advanced breast cancer: Chemo can also be used as the main treatment for women whose cancer has spread outside the breast and underarm area, either when it is diagnosed or after initial treatments. The length of treatment depends on whether the cancer shrinks, how much it shrinks, and how well you tolerate treatment.

  What to do at Chemotherapy – Some suggestions

  Write any notes, letters, or cards you want to send.

  Practice relaxation or meditation techniques.

  Start a journal or diary of your treatment process.

  Make a list of everything you're looking forward to when treatment is over.

  Catch up on your sleep and take a nap.

  CHAPTER 7 – True Colours

  “Sterling, I have something extremely important to talk to you about.” It’s Saturday morning, and I watch as he gathers his golf clubs. I can’t keep this secret any longer.

  “It will have to wait, Princess. We tee off in thirty minutes,” he replies, kissing my forehead. Usually I would just smile and nod, but not today.

  “It can’t wait. I’ve been waiting weeks already!” I shout, feeling pissed off that he won’t give me five minutes of his fucking time.

  “Don’t raise your voice to me. What have I said before about that,” he replies condescendingly.

  “I’m sick, Sterling,” I announce before he can get another word in.

  “Yes, and I’m sorry you are still sick. You need to see another doctor and get some stronger meds.” He doesn’t even care.

  “I have seen a new doctor. He is a specialist, and they have done blood tests and X-rays,” I clarify. Part of me can’t believe he hasn’t noticed where I’ve been every day.

  “I have cancer, Sterling,” I exclaim, watching his every move. His body doesn’t slouch the way mine did when I found out. He only frowns.

  “How could you have cancer?” he asks stupidly. Like I fucking know, genius.

  Yep. The old Crystal has left the building.

  “My great grandmother had breast cancer, and that is the type that I have too,” I advise him, disregarding his question.

  “You have breast cancer?” He looks more serious this time. I nod my head.

  “Oh God,” he shudders. “Could I catch that from being intimate with you?” I grit my teeth.

  If I had a gun, I think I would shoot him.

  “You cannot catch cancer!” I shriek, feeling pissed that he is being so selfish.

  “Oh, thank God for that.” He replies, sounding relieved.

  “Are you even sad for me? I have to undergo six rounds of chemotherapy, radiation, and multiple blood tests. I will lose my hair, be constantly sick and exhausted, and all you care about is that you can’t catch it?” I snap at just how unsympathetic he is being.

  “We will get you the best specialist in New York. I will have him ring you today, and maybe there is another way to beat it,” he suggests.

  “There is no other way,” I yell. I wish I didn’t even tell him.

  “We will have to buy you a wig. You can’t come to functions with no hair.” That’s the last thing he says to me before he picks up his golf clubs to leave.

  “Arrrgghhh! You asshole! Go fucking golf,” I scream before running into my bedroom, slamming the door harder than I ever have before.

  I am seething. My heart rate is pounding, I feel sweat dripping off my brow as I crack my knuckles, and my face is flushed.

  I hear the front door slam as Sterling leaves, and I scream again “Arrrrrggghhhh,” so loud from the rage inside of me.

  CHAPTER 8 – Worst Pain Ever

  “Are you okay Crystal?” Dr. Grayson asks me as he does the rounds to patients in the cancer clinic.

  It’s my first round of chemo. The needle is stinging, my stomach is nauseas, and I hate the world.

  “Just perfect,” I reply sarcastically.

  I have a sizeable needle sticking out of my vein, pumping poison into my blood stream to try and kill the other poison in my blood. I’m in a room with ten other people undergoing the same treatment as me, showing me what I will look like soon. The nausea is getting worse, and this is only the beginning, so I’m perfect. Just fucking perfect.

  He squeezes my hand, catching me by surprise. I shouldn’t be a bitch to him; he has been nothing but helpful and sweet. What is that saying about not shooting the messenger? I welcome the contact and look up and smile at him. He smiles back warmly. I get a suspicious look from Hannah when he walks away.

  “What? He is my doctor,” I whisper. God only knows what she is thinking. Hannah goes back to reading her Christina Lauren book, which is probably totally inappropriate to read in public, but that is just Hannah.

  I pop in my earbuds, choosing my new playlist with some nice relaxing music, like ‘Enya,’ and some other ballads. I close my eyes, hoping to be transported to another place, like a fantasy island somewhere—anywhere but here.

  I must have drifted off, which is fine. It sure beats the reality of where I am and what is happening.

  I slowly open my eyes, adjusting to the daylight, and stare into space. Hannah catches my gaze and smiles. I am glad she can sit with me and not have to talk. I am not in the mood. That is when you know you have the best kind of friend.

  My attention is drawn to Dr. Grayson, or Liam, as he told me to call him. He is checking a girl named Sarah’s breathing, and bending down, showing me the perfect view of his ass in those nice tight pants. I must be delirious from the chemo. Checking out your oncologist is not cool. Besides, I’m sure he has a happy family at home with a gorgeous wife, 2.5 kids, a dog, and an impeccable two story home, along with a perfect marriage.

  I can’t help but watch him tend to other patients. He is caring and genuine. He isn’t bad on the eyes either. How come I’d never noticed until now just how good looking Dr. Grayson was? I close my eyes again to shake his image. I need a distraction, so I grab my ice water and chew on the ice cubes.

  Once I start to play on my phone, I can feel a migraine coming on.

  I google life quotations, and its helps my frame of mind. I need all the positive I can in my life right now.

  ‘Giving up is a weakness, there is always one more chance to try to succeed.’ This quote is my new motto in life. I won’t be giving up any time soon. I am strong. By not giving up, I have the urge to reach my full potential.

  I'm not sitting around any longer, waiting for things to happen. Once my treatments are finished, I’m grabbing the bull by the horns and making them happen.

  Making my dreams come true, in life, and in love.

  I need to learn to focus on what is to come and what I can achieve, not what I have failed at or missed out on.

  Two hours later, I am finished with my first round of chemo and feeling sick to the core. I vomit into the sick bag on the drive home, apologising profusely to Hannah.

  “I’ll get you comfortable on the couch, Crys,” Hannah says as she walks me into my apartment.

  “Thanks,” I tell her as I lay with the blanket on me.

  “You have ice water, tissues, a throw up bag, anti-nausea tablets, dry crackers, and the television remote. Can I get you anything else, sweetie?” my gorgeous bestie asks me.

  “No, I am all set. Thanks so much for today. You are my rock,” I point out. She bends down for a tight hug.

  “Okay. Well, I need to get to Moms for family dinner. Otherwise, you know I’d be sitting with you all night long. You okay if I leave?” she asks, looking concerned.

  “Of course. I feel better than I expected. See you in a few days,” I lie, forcing a smile. Sometimes when people leave, you wish they could stay, and sometimes, when they stay, you wish they could leave.

  “Bye, honey.” Hannah heads for the door and locks it from the inside before closing
it and leaving.

  I burst into a river of tears. I am such an emotional mess right now. I need a good cry, and that is what I do for a full hour. The tears don’t stop.

  That night, the nausea is so intense, I find that sitting at the bottom of our shower with the water running is the only thing that helps. Nothing else matters right now, except beating this repulsive feeling.

  Sterling is still not home. He thinks I'm okay. I didn’t tell him chemo started today. I was trying to avoid another argument. I just don’t know how to say it, and what to say exactly.

  I stay in the steaming hot shower and put my head under the heat, enjoying the boiling temperature, almost turning my skin a bright red. I think of the five chemo sessions I still have to complete, and start to whimper again. I feel alone and isolated. Why can’t Sterling be the man I need right now…a loving, caring husband?

  I'm crying for so many reasons, the biggest being cancer. I’m crying for the loss of my old life, the gaping void I feel, knowing that it’s going to keep eating away at me, the darkness that is slowly taking me inch by inch. I wish I could feel numb instead of all this pain. Numb is good, it's nothing— no pain, hurt, or feelings. It’s much better than the aches that are killing me.

  I’m in bed when Sterling arrives home. I feel worse than I ever realised I could feel.

  “Sterling, I need you,” I shout out to him. Surely, he can’t ignore a plea.

  “I didn’t want to wake you,” he lies, coming into our bedroom that he now refuses to share with me.

  “Can you lay with me tonight, Sterl? I’m not feeling the best.” I need comfort right now, and he is refusing me.

  “You don’t want me in there, I’m a restless sleeper. I will wake you and you need your rest,” he says. I want to strangle him.

  “I want my husband to fucking sleep next to me!” I shout, catching myself and Sterling by surprise. I’ve been waiting for the bubble to burst. A girl can only take so much.

  “Wow, Crystal. You need to control your anger,” he says before leaving the room.

  I sob uncontrollably for the third time today into my pillow. I won’t give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry, or seeing that he makes me cry. I know I shouldn’t put up with it, but what is the alternative? Live alone, die alone?

  He is making me hate him. Every day, I hate him more and more.

  CHAPTER 9 – Feeling Alone

  There are only so many chick flicks and TV shows a person can watch before they start to lose their mind. I am officially at that point. I am bored out of my brain. I constantly feel nauseas, and it’s making life miserable.

  I scroll through my cell and realise I never replied to my stepmom’s text last week.

  Mom: Hi, honey. Thinking of you. We must catch up for lunch soon. xoxo, Mom.

  Short and sweet are her specialities.

  Me: Hey, Mom. Sorry for not replying sooner. I have had a damn virus that won’t shift. Lunch soon sounds perfect. I’ll let you know when I am better. xoxo, Crystal

  I press send. It’s short and sweet, and might give me some more time to figure out if I’m going to tell her. I know that I should tell my mom and Dad, but life would become more difficult. Audrey Edgeworth likes to control situations. She is a freak when it comes to being controlling. I keep my distance, as it’s claustrophobic.

  I flick through my Cosmo magazine, looking at the summer hair special edition.

  Just perfect. I really don’t want to look at all these beautiful women with gorgeous hair, just like mine is now. The only difference is that mine will be gone in a matter of weeks. Feeling sad and frustrated, I slam the magazine shut and throw it across the room.

  Catching me by surprise, my cell phone rings with a private number. It’s a welcome distraction to prevent me from losing it even more. I take a deep breath. “Hello?” I answer, having no idea who is calling.

  “Hello, Crystal. It is Dr. Liam Grayson…how are you?” I hear his deep husky voice and immediately my lips form a smile. God, his voice is sexy.

  “Hey, Dr. Grayson. I am actually feeling okay today, at least compared to last week, but quite bored and over watching TV,” I reply casually. I feel comfortable talking to him.

  “I bet. It must be getting repetitive and mind-numbing,” he says, agreeing with me.

  “You have no idea, but Grey’s Anatomy reruns actually aren’t mind numbing, just tedious,” I exclaim and giggle to myself.

  “Would you believe I’m a Grey’s fan? So, are you team McDreamy or team McSteamy?” he asks, and I burst into laughter. I can’t believe he knows that.

  “That is a tough one to answer, but I think it’s McDreamy for me. He is the full package.” Once the words are out of my mouth, I suddenly realise that he is a real life version of McDreamy. Oh shit!

  “Well, I’m just on my lunch break at work, so I will have to get back to it. You really should have my cell number in case you need me.” I’m not going to argue about getting his number. “Feel free to call me any time. Daily update texts are fine too. I don’t have much of a life outside of the hospital,” he confesses. I find that hard to believe. Does he really want me to text him daily with updates?

  “Okay, great. Thank you, Dr. Grayson.” I’m glad that he called, but I’m kind of confused too.

  “Call me Liam, please.”

  “Only if you insist, Liam,” I respond. His name rolls nicely off my tongue.

  “I insist. Now, make sure you keep your fluids up and rest. Some vitamin D would be good for you. Maybe twenty minutes outside per day,” he advises. It gives me hope. Heading outdoors sounds like a good plan.

  “Yes, I need to get out of this apartment,” I agree, thinking about where I could venture to.

  “Great talking to you, Crystal. Take care, and I’ll see you soon.” That makes me smile.

  “Bye, Liam. Thanks so much for calling,” I reply, feeling happy. Talking to him has broken up a little bit of boredom and given me something to look forward to.

  I end the call and start to daydream, just as my phone chimes with a text.

  Liam: Just want to confirm you got my number. Let me know if you need anything, I am here for you.

  He is here for me. Well isn’t that something. My new doctor, who I’ve only known for about a month, is already more caring. He is not family or blood, just my doctor, and he is here for me.

  My own fucking husband, who I’ve known for nine years, is nowhere to be seen. He’s non-supportive and non-caring to what I’m going through. It shouldn’t surprise me so much. Sterling has always been independent, but he was my first real boyfriend, so I never had anything to compare our relationship to.

  I now think he has been taking me for a ride for all these years, while he reaped the benefits of having a trophy woman on his arm, and of course, Mommy and Daddy’s complete approval.

  Me: Thanks so much. Liam, I appreciate your concern.

  Liam: Tell me to mind my own business, but is your husband supportive?

  Me: Honestly, he hasn’t been supportive, not at all.

  Liam: I’m sorry to hear that. He really needs to step up his game.

  Me: I thought you were going back to work?

  Liam: Yep, I have to go.

  Me: Then stop texting me.

  Liam: Lol. Stop replying.

  Me: When you stop texting me, I will.

  Liam: Okay, I’ll stop.

  Me: Me too.

  Liam: Me three.

  Me: Me four!

  He has made me laugh hysterically. I needed this so bad today.

  Liam: Bye, Miss Edgeworth. I am being paged, so I have no choice but to go, lol.

  Me: Bye, Dr. Liam Grayson.

  The rest of my week runs quite smoothly. I have been getting some Vitamin D, and then going to bed afterwards from the nausea and headaches. I’m vomiting twice a day instead of four, and my energy has picked up a little. My daily texts to Liam are fun and interesting.

  “Hey, Hannah.” I answer my cell when I see
my bestie calling.

  “Hey, gorgeous. I will be over in an hour, and I have a surprise for you,” she tells me, and I so can’t wait to see what it might be.

  “A surprise? That sounds like fun. I can’t wait,” I exclaim, feeling intrigued.

  “See you soon,” she says and hangs up.

  I decide to the brave the shower, feeling much better today. It’s successful, and I feel so much better now with clean clothes, resting on my sofa. God, I am glad we chose the comfortable one and not the firm one that Sterling wanted that would last longer. I mean, how often does he sit on the lounge anyway?

  I hear the keys jingle and then the front door opens. I turn around, eager to check out what the surprise might be. She is carrying a pink box with a ribbon on top.

  “What is in the box, Han?” I enquire, feeling excited.

  “This is your surprise.” She places the box carefully on my lap.

  I untie the ribbon and peek into the top as I open the lid. A cute little grey paw reaches up and swats at my hand.