I woke up to the thud of the landing gear touching down at the airport in Phoenix.
Despite sleeping for the three-hour flight from Chicago down to Arizona, I was still exhausted. But I smiled at the view out the plane's window. The cloudless sky was bluer than I had ever seen it. The sun was bright, the heat radiating from the runway as it baked the pavement. And all of the workers were wearing shorts and T-Shirts even though it was April and there was snow on the ground back home.
I let out a low moan as I stretched. Being six-foot-four, my knees and back were killing me from the cramped seating on the plane. It was a big relief when we finally parked at the gate and I was able to stand up and move around.
"Jeremy!" my Aunt Gillian shouted when she saw me walking down the stairs to baggage claim. She had a coffee in one hand and handed me a large tea from the other.
"Thanks Aunt G. Nice to see you. How is Aunt Sam?" I asked before gratefully taking a careful but large swallow of hot tea.
"Sam's fine. She is super excited about our new cat, Luthien. Like I always said...."
"Cats are better than kids," we said together with a laugh at the old family joke.
When Aunt Gillian first introduced us to her girlfriend and now wife Samantha, my grandmother had asked how Gillian would be able to give her more grandkids. Aunt G just smiled and said that she could have grand kitties, and that cats were better than kids anyway. Having an annoying set of twins as younger siblings, I could certainly agree with that.
"Are you working tonight?" I asked.
"Yep. Got up early to make the drive down here to pick you up."
"Hope it wasn't any trouble."
"How could I not come to pick up my favorite college student?"
Aunt Gillian was an astronomer at the Lowell Observatory. She also taught at Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, where I was to spend the next six months. I had been sent out here by my parents after a health crisis (Cancer) during my second year at the University of Chicago. They and my doctors had decided it would be in my best interest to take a break from school and work somewhere with good air. So Aunt G pulled a few favors and got me a job working for the Interpretive Center that the observatory ran at their Mars Hill site nearby.
Aunt G and I shot the shit on the three-hour drive up to Flagstaff. Traffic sucked until we were well clear of the city, but then eased up on the highway as we headed north. The closer we got, the more I could see summer turn back to winter with snow starting creating shadows on the ground. We mostly spent the time catching up on news and talking about girls. After we hit the exit into Flagstaff, traffic was as bad as it ever got in this small town. Nothing compared to Chicago, or even Phoenix, so when Aunt G complained about how congested it was I laughed and laughed. When we finally got to Aunt G's home, I quickly unpacked. She went to work for the night. Since Aunt Sam was also on the night shift but at the local hospital, I just relaxed at home and let their cat get to know me. A few treats later and she was lying on the couch letting me rub behind her ears while she purred.
"Be ready early," Aunt Gillian had called up at me on her way out of the door. "I'm going to drop you off at the visitor center before I go to bed in the morning."
I wasn't much into science, it had been a weak subject of mine in school due to my struggles with math, but I figured it couldn't be too bad working for the observatory. At least it wasn't a McJob, and heck I might even learn something. Still, it might have been nice to get a couple of days just to chill and acclimate before I had to start. Aunt G had suggested that, but my Mom didn't want me to leave until just before I had to start so she could spend more time making sure I had packed the right clothes and admonishing me about my expected behaviour while staying with her sister. Not that I really needed the lecture, I had always been a kind and polite person, and saw no reason why I would suddenly become a jackass in Flagstaff.
As I was getting ready for bed, I looked in the bedroom mirror over the dresser into which I had emptied my suitcase. My red hair, green eyes, and the whiskers from the beard I was trying to grow stared back at me. I looked gaunt, like I'd just been very sick. Which, of course, I had. There was a big scar down the center of my chest from multiple surgeries, and another one down my left forearm where they had gone in to get some veins for a transplant. I wanted to get a tattoo to cover it one day, not because I found it ugly or anything, I wanted the tattoo to be a mark of my surviving the cancer. Something I could look at and feel good about.
Looking back in the mirror, I was glad to see one thing that had not changed: the decently-sized bulge in my boxers. While impressive—if I did say so myself—I sighed. I had barely grown into a man before the cancer had robbed me of my social life and any chance I had to lose my virginity. And now that I was here where nobody knew me I felt my chances of losing it now we're even slimmer.
With another sigh, I crawled into bed and waited to fall asleep.
I couldn't fall asleep. I tossed and turned a few times before I just lay on by back and stared at the ceiling and thought of home, and how I got here.
I had just graduated from High-School when I felt the first lump. It was under my arm, and it was small but noticible. At first I didn't think anything of it, but then I found a lump under the other arm. By Halloween I went to the doctor. They did tests. And Scans. And more tests. But by Christmas they told me for sure that I had cancer. Lymphoma.
Mom of course wanted me to move back home.
"Jeremy I really think you should come home so we can look after you."
"Mum! I just moved out a few months ago!" As part of the 'growing up experience' Dad had suggested and Mom eventually agreed that I should move into residence at the university, since I couldn't get an apartment yet because I was still 17. Dad thought it would do me good to be on my own away from home, but close enough that I could come home if something happened. Mom reckoned that Cancer counted as something having happened.
"Still Jeremy..."
"Look, I'm only what 45 minutes away from home by train. And, that's at rush hour."
"Still Jeremy, Cancer is a big deal. You have no idea."
I sighed.
"Look," I said trying to keep my voice steady. "I appreciate that you want to look after me. But really the Doctors say some chemo and some radiation and I will be OK. They say I will barely have to miss any school." And I don't want to give up my freedom after having just discovered it, I made sure I didn't say.
It's not that I didn't love my mom. I did. And she was really good and usually right, but she could also be a bit much to deal with, especially if something didn't go according to plan.
Well like I said, she was right. I had to stop going to classes by spring break. My professors luckily were understanding. Most of them sent copies of their lectures and homework and I was able to limp through the rest of the semester till the summer. Once my lease was up I did end up moving home, where I spent the summer alternating between lying in my childhood bed, lying on a hospital bed and lying on the couch. I had hoped that I would meet a girl during first year and have something happen. I had been shy through Highschool and had taken the change to University to re invent myself, and I had been more outgoing until the Cancer. I mean yeah I wanted to lose my virginity like most guys my age, but deep down more than that I really wanted to feel in love.
I kept not getting better. Mom didn't want me to continue with school until I was better. I really wanted to keep going. My dad, ever the peace maker brokered a compromise. I would do online courses. My program manager was understanding and waved some of the mandatory courses that I needed to take in second year to third year so I could take all my electives in second year instead. It was just enough credits so I didn't lose the year.
The Twins grew tired of me hogging the couch and getting all the attention. I told them they could fuck off and die with my cancer if they wanted. That shut them up. And got me in a serious load of shit with my parents.
"Jeremy just because you are sick doesn't give you permission to swear in my house, especially at your sisters," Mom had raged.
Dad was a bit more laid back. More disappointed than angry. "Jeremy, when you lash out like that at your sisters, instead of helping them to understand how they can help you get through your illness, you are instead teaching them that yelling and swearing are acceptable. You are their big brother, they look up to you, and I expect you to be a better role model," he had said quietly.
"Their girls are too young to really understand what is happening to you. They only know that you are back in their space, and controlling many things that this family does. They don't see how your medical treatment forces these things to happen, they just see you getting all this special attention."
That's my dad for you. I tried to keep my mood in check, and I lost it more times than I am proud of. Dying of Cancer, and of the drugs used to try to stop it from killing you quickly by killing slowly will do that to you. I tried therapy and support groups for the mental side of cancer treatment and they helped me to control my emotions better.
I looked like a skeleton with no hair, skinny as all get out and sunken eyes and cheeks. I began to seriously wonder if I was going to die. The doctors had told me that the cancer was curable but I seemed to be the big exception. Chemo usually works as a cure. Except for me. Radiation will shrink the tumours, except on me. Finally the doctors said they needed to do something more radical. Surgery to remove the tumours followed by intense chemo and radiation therapy was decided upon by my doctors and parents, and even though I was 18 by then I felt I had very little to do with the health decisions made for me. Force of habit I guess.
The operation didn't go well either. They said I died twice on the table. When they were removing the tumours I guess the spleen ruptured and they had to take that out. While they did that somehow the blood supply to my liver and pancreas got ruptured. They pulled more veins out of my arms to re build the blood supply to my liver and pancreas and I guess that is where my luck turned around. With most of the cancer gone suddenly the Chemo worked and by spring break of my second year at university I first showed up as No evidence of cancer on my pet scan. They did another one three weeks later. Same result.
I finished my second year through some miracle given that I had missed assignments. Again thank goodness for understanding professors and departments.
Mom got it into her head that I should take the summer off and out of the city. She browbeat the doctors into agreeing that it would be best for me to get some sun and take things easy for the summer. I could still enrol in the first semester of school for third year if I wanted, but I could take a semester off. Mom had even arranged for me to go live with her younger sister.