“When can we see him?”

Dr. Sherman says, “My recommendation is that you all go home and rest. Tomorrow morning will be soon enough. He won’t wake up for hours and when he does, he’ll still be sedated.”

“I remember that from the last time. Can I at least look at him?”

Dr. Sherman and Ray share a look. Ray says, “Cate, he’ll be on a ventilator. It might be better …”

I cut him off. “I don’t care. I just want to kiss him and touch his face. Tell him I love him. Then I’ll leave.”

Dr. Sherman says, “That should be fine. Ray, Cate, Letty, why don’t you come with me?”

He leads the way and we go into recovery. I’m shocked to see the tube going down Drew’s throat, but I refuse to let it show. I place my hand on his head and my cheek next to his for a moment. Then I tell him how much I love him and kiss his cheek. Letty does the same, followed by Ray.

When we get back to the waiting room, the tears I pushed away eke past my lids, but I won’t give in. Not yet. I hug Letty and Ray, and my parents. Then I turn to Jenna and Ben and ask, “You guys are staying with me, right?”

“Yep.”

And we head home, where I proceed to digest everything and then break down.

“Cate, maybe they got it all.”

“They had to take out his whole lung, Jenna. His prognosis wasn’t good to start.”

Jenna grabs my shoulders. “Stop it. Stop saying that.”

“I’m hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. It’s the only way I know to prepare because you can’t possibly understand what this man means to me.”

“She’s right Jenna. And I know, Cate.”

We both look at Ben and if eyes could speak a million words, his would do so right now. The grief written in them is so poignant, I automatically reach for him, and we cling to each other.

“Drew told me this was a roulette game and we all know the odds of that.” Then I feel his body shaking with silent sobs, and mine does the same thing.

The next morning, we make an impressive team as we head back to the hospital. Fake smiles and chipper faces are all nothing but plastic. But Drew won’t notice, because he’ll be drugged out of his mind and until he does, we’ll put on the best show as we possibly can.

This time when I see him with all the hoses, tubes, wires, and IV lines, I’m not nearly as shaken up. I know what to expect and I’ve prepared myself. His morphine pump is next to his bed and he gives me a wan smile. Thank god, they’ve taken him off that ventilator and he’s breathing on his own.

“Hey, gorgeous,” I say, kissing him. “Love your tubes. You have the best tubes I’ve ever seen.”

“You really know how to flatter a guy.” He sounds so breathless. Is that normal? I want to ask him, but I don’t want to freak the hell out of him.

“It’s the way I work. Is it dumb to ask how you feel?”

“No, there is no such thing as a dumb question.”

“Oh, yes there is and I’ve heard many. But, how are you, my love?”

If I could do anything, anything at all, it would be to take his pain and suffering away right this very instant. Instead, I run my hand over his smooth head, bald from his last round of chemo and my assistance at shaving.

“Much better with you by my side.”

“The only place I want to be.”

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

“Not today.”

“I just did, then. And I love you.” His eye flutter closed. I place my face next to his and kiss his cheek. Then I tell him, in his ear, how very much I love him, too. After a moment, I stand and walk out of the room so I can get my cry on. And it’s a doozy.

As I’m in the hall, Ben comes out and envelops me into a hug.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I needed to get away from him so I could cry.”

“He’s out of it, Cate.”

“Yeah. But I still want him to see me as Wonder Woman, or something.”

“That’s ridiculous. He knows you’re not. He knows if anything happens, you’ll need the support of friends.”

“Ben, has he said anything to you about not making it?”

“No. He doesn’t know. No one does, Cate.”

“I don’t think his doctors are very hopeful.”

Ben leans against the wall and stretches his arms up, dropping his head down between them. Suddenly, he slams his hands against the wall and yells, “Goddammit!”

I get ready to tell him to hush, but a nurse beats me to it. “Sir, please, this is a hospital, and I would respectfully ask you to refrain from yelling and from using that type of language. We have sick patients and their families here.”

Ben straightens up and walks up to the nurse and says, “Yeah? Well my best friend for my entire life is in there and just had his lung ripped out his chest because he has cancer. This is his wife right here and I apologize to you and everyone else, but we’re a little upset. Sorry for the bad language, but …” Ben throws his hands up in the air and he turns to me as racking sobs take over him. When I see him like that, I turn into a weepy mess myself.

Jenna shows up and tells us we need to take it somewhere else. But quite frankly, I just don’t give a fuck anymore. Ben and I stand there and after a time, we let each other go.

He looks at me and asks, “You good?”

“For now. You?”

“Same. Ready to go back in?”

“Yeah.”

He holds out his hand and we take the next steps together.

As the day progresses, Ben and I have more than a few crying spells, but we lean on each other for support. The morphine keeps Drew’s pain at bay but his head fuzzy. The thing about his breathing is freakish. He’s so out of it, I can’t ask him anything. Ray says it’s his diaphragm and it’s fine. But it’s not fine. My husband is getting taken apart piece by piece and it’s killing me slowly as I watch it happen. I never thought about families of cancer survivors and what they go through, but it’s not for the faint of heart.

Another week passes and Drew finally gets discharged from the hospital. His spirits are up and he’s eating again, too. After a few days, he says they’re going to have another tumor board and he wants to attend. That means I have to take him, since he hasn’t been cleared by his physician to drive.

“Do you want me to go too?”

“You can, but I doubt you’ll want to because it might be all gibberish to you.”

“I can sit in the corner and read a good book.”

He laughs nervously.

“Spit it out, McKnight. I know when you’re hiding something.”

“The news won’t be good, Cate.” His voice is clear and strong.

“Remember, no sugarcoating,” I remind him.

“See, here’s the thing. They originally thought the cancer was confined to one lobe, but when they found it scattered throughout my whole lung, well, you can probably guess what I’m going to say.”

My hands are fisted so tightly, my nails pierce my palms. “Don’t make me guess. I need it spelled out, Drew. I’m not a doctor and don’t know these things.”

“The lungs are a secondary point.”

“Meaning?”

“If it’s there, it’s most likely someplace else.”

“Such as?”

“The liver.”

Heart meet stomach meet floor. Stomach meet throat meet mouth. I run to the bathroom and make it just in time. After I finish my pukefest, I wipe my mouth and rinse it out. Then I think about what he said. The liver. While I’m not a smart woman, medically, I do know this. The liver usually spells out terminally ill. Drew is telling me he’s terminal. Fuck. Suck it up, Cate. Get out there now because he needs you. I look in the cabinet, since I’m not in my bathroom upstairs, and thank god there’s mouthwash in here. I rinse again and walk out the door.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, well, could be better. What now? More tests?”

“That and we determine if treatment is even an option anymore.”

I press my lips together, doing my dead level best to hold in my tears. Nodding, I finally squeak, “And you’re sure there’s nowhere else we can go?”

“I’m positive, Cate. It’s the disease, not the institution.”