Bastard(130)
One month later …
Carter
We’re in week three of the radiation therapy. The oncologist put Indiana on a course of radio-sensitising drugs the first week of treatment. They apparently make the cancer cells more sensitive to the radiation, helping to kill them off faster. She’s going great guns, but it’s been a tough few weeks.
The first week she seemed to breeze through it, with little or no side effects. These last two weeks, not so much. She’s having small doses of radiation Monday through to Thursday, and having Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off as her rest days.
We’ve been driving down Monday morning and staying in Sydney until Thursday, then driving back to my place for the other days. I’ve been squeezing in as much work as I can, working until late Thursday night, and all day Friday and most of Saturday. I hate leaving her alone, but I need to work. She spends most of her time sleeping anyway.
Mum and Ross both offered to come and stay with her while I worked, but she wouldn’t hear of it. I think she feels bad putting people out. She’s forever apologising to me. Doesn’t she realise how much we all love her? That there’s nothing we wouldn’t do to make this process easier or more comfortable for her?
I check on her between every client, and if it’s a big job, I send Jacquie or Justine up to make sure she’s okay and there’s nothing she needs. It’s killing me to see her so sick. I wasn’t prepared for things to get this bad. She’s nauseous all the time, so she’s not eating as much as I’d like, and has subsequently lost some weight. There was already nothing of her, so it concerns me greatly.
She usually comes good by Sunday, but when the treatment starts up again Monday, she’s back to where she started. I usually try and get as much food as I can into her on the good days. I know once this is all over she’ll get back to where she was, but in the meantime, it’s hard to watch. I’d give anything to change places with her.
Even LJ can tell things aren’t right. He hasn’t left her side. Follows her everywhere when she’s up and about, and lays beside her when she’s not. I’m glad he’s here with her when I’m downstairs working.
I wish I could spend every second of my time with her, especially on her rest days, but being away from work three and a half days a week is really taking its toll on my clientele. Thankfully, they’ve been pretty understanding. I’ve lost a few of my regulars to the other artists, but most have been loyal and stuck by me. It’s only for three more weeks, and hopefully we can then put this behind us and life will get back to normal.
To add to my already hectic schedule, the old man next door came over a few weeks back and told me he was planning to shut up shop at the end of the month. He wanted to know if I was still interested in buying his building, which of course I am. I have a few ideas up my sleeve that might help persuade Indi to stay up here permanently once the treatment is finished. Well that’s my hope anyway.
So, now I have the added worry of organising finance, as well as getting the architect to draw up the plans to extend the apartment and refit the shop next door. I’d like to get started on the renovations as soon as the purchase is finalised. I’m going to use the same building company that fitted out my place when I first moved here. To be honest, I’m fucking exhausted, but if all goes to plan it’s going to be worth it.
After finishing up the colour fill working on, I walk my client out to the front desk, only to find my next job is already waiting for me. “Can you give me five minutes mate?” I ask when I walk over and shake his hand. I just have to duck upstairs quickly.
Only my staff know what’s going on with Indiana. I’m a personal guy and don’t like to talk about shit like that with my clients.
“Sure. No problem,” he replies taking a seat again. I take the steps two at a time as I rush up to check on Indiana. I find her sound asleep in bed. When I see the sandwich I made her at lunchtime still sitting on the bedside table untouched, I exhale. I need her to fucking eat. She’s so weak, and this no eating shit isn’t helping.
“Indi,” I whisper getting down on my knees beside the bed, and smoothing my hand over her hair. “Hey,” I say smiling when her eyelids flutter open. She’s so fucking pale and pasty, with dark circles under her eyes. It worries me to no end to see her like this.
She’s been so courageous. Never once complaining. My heart hurts when her green eyes meet mine. They’ve lost their sparkle, and I fucking hate that. I just want this to be over with so she can be well again.
“Hi,” she says forcing out a smile. I hate that she thinks she needs to be brave for me, because she doesn’t.