Done Too Soon

This is the final part of a three-part story. Although each part of this story was written as a stand-alone story, it would help to read '

If I Never Knew Your Name

' and '

And the Grass Won't Pay No Mind

' first to better grasp the context of this story. You could also read '

Your Silver Nights and Golden Days Pt. 05

' to get Virginia's take on this event.

The following events took place in 1992 before the "Don't ask, don't tell" policy was implemented in the military. Being an active lesbian was risking your career, even for an officer.

© 2021-2023 Candy_Kane54

***

... I was running, and it felt so exhilarating. The pain was gone, and along with it, the debilitation caused by the painkillers that had made everything so fuzzy. I ran and ran, feeling so free and alive. The sun was shining so bright, and I could feel its warmth on my face as I flew across the ground, feeling like I could flap my arms and fly away...

May 1992

... I woke with a start. I was afraid, and I didn't want to fall asleep forever just yet. I needed to hang on. Virginia was coming, and I had to be here when she arrived. Afterward, death could have me, but not until then.

Only managing a whisper, I queried, "Mom?"

"I'm here, sweetie," Mom said.

I felt her take my hand in hers as I struggled to open my eyes. I saw Mom, and the tears streaming down her face made me feel horrible, knowing I was the cause of those tears. I felt so bad for Mom, not just because of me but also for what had happened to Kathy, Mom's partner for forty-four years.

I thought about when Mom found out about Kathy's accident and how torn she was. She desperately wanted to go to Kathy but felt she needed to be here for me. I knew Mom almost lost it at one point, and I had done my best to reassure her I would be okay if Mom needed to leave to be with Kathy. I knew she had spent a lot of time on the phone with Kathy and how she had tried so hard to assure Mom she would be okay. After all, it was only a broken leg. After much hand-wringing, Mom accepted Kathy's assurance that she would pull through so she could stay here to care for me.

"How much longer?" I asked, not caring because I wasn't going anywhere. I just needed to interact with Mom to avoid fading away too soon.

"Her plane just landed," Mom said. "She should be here in a half-hour or so."

I started fading out again, glad it wouldn't be much longer. "No," I thought, "I'm not ready to give up yet." I struggled against the lure of the darkness and, after a moment, managed to say, "Mom? I'm so sorry for doing this to you."

Mom squeezed my hand and said, "It's okay, sweetie."

I could hear the tears in her voice, and they stabbed at my heart. I started crying, squeezed her hand back, and whispered, "You don't deserve this."

Mom leaned in, kissed my forehead, and said, "The check always comes due, sweetie. Sometimes, it comes sooner than later. I've had the good for so long. Now it's time to pay the bill."

I loved that Mom could always find the right thing to say, relating things to her experiences in life. As I thought about what she said, I flashed back to the day the check was presented for payment...

February 1992

As I left the doctor's office, I was numb. Even though I knew this day was coming, even before we moved to Ohio, it was still a shock. After all, no matter how persistent or detailed, a premonition didn't have to come true, did it?

After having the CAT scan two days ago, I figured it would be bad news, but I hadn't thought it would be cancer... the 'C' word that trumps all other 'C' words in its implications. I didn't know how I did it, but I managed to drive myself home. Once I got inside, I called Virginia, not knowing what else to do. Virginia would know what to do. She'd be able to fix this.

When the call went straight to Susan, Virginia's personal assistant, I knew she must be in a meeting. I told Susan to have Virginia call as soon as she could. I just lay there on the couch, all balled up, rocking back and forth, trying to hold myself together. I called again, and Susan answered again. I tried not to get hysterical and beg her to find Virginia, so I just told her to have Virginia call as soon as possible.

As I lay there, I recalled what Dr. Otte had told me. When he said that it looked like I had pancreatic cancer, I knew it was a veritable death sentence. I had learned about pancreatic cancer in my classes at Wright State, and I knew that the prognosis wasn't good. "Don't try to delude yourself," I thought. "You'll be lucky to see your 40th birthday, and you know it."

I had asked if getting a second opinion would do any good. Dr. Otte told me he had already run the test results past two other colleagues, both oncologists. They were unanimous in their opinion that it looked like pancreatic cancer. I accepted that, knowing that getting a second opinion at this point wouldn't change anything and would only delay any possible treatment.

Dr. Otte told me that he had contacted a surgical oncologist, Dr. Pavelka, who had already scheduled the exploratory surgery to assess the tumor seen in the CAT scan. I thanked him for everything he had done, and he wished me luck as his nurse escorted me out. She handed me a slip with the location and time of my surgery, and I headed out to my car.

I was losing it, and I needed Virginia to call me. As I waited for her to return my call, I thought about how the boys would react to the news. I thought about Mom and how devastated she would be when I told her about it. I had done my best to prepare them for this, ensuring the boys had accepted Virginia as their second mother. I knew that Virginia loved the boys with every fiber of her being and would take care of them. For a moment, that thought comforted me.

I called Virginia's office again. As before, Susan answered the phone, telling me Virginia was still meeting with General Fain. I just told her to have Virginia call me and hung up. I thought about calling Mom, but I didn't need to dump this on her just yet. I knew she'd want to jump on the first available plane and come out here, disrupting her life.

Since I would have exploratory surgery in two days, I held off calling Mom and just waited for Virginia to call. The phone rang at last, and I grabbed it and picked it up before the first ring had even finished. I almost lost it when I heard the fear in Virginia's voice when she asked, "What's up, sweetie?"

Virginia was one of the most fearless people I knew. I suspected she had picked up on my fears, even after I had tried hard not to let on that I knew something would happen to me. All those times I would just burst into tears when I was intimate with her must have raised her suspicions that I was bothered about something. When I started getting sick and could no longer pass it off as an incidental issue, Virginia insisted that I get it looked at by a doctor.

I managed to clear my throat and say, "It's cancer," before I started sobbing.

"How bad?" Virginia asked as she went straight into her "I can fix this" mode. I drew strength from hearing the determination in her voice.

"They need to do an exploratory scoping," I said through my tears. "They think it's pancreatic cancer, but they don't know how bad it is yet. They've scheduled it at Miami Valley Hospital for the day after tomorrow."

"Okay, sweetie," I heard Virginia say. "I'm going to take the rest of the day off, and I'll be home as quick as I can." Then she added in a low voice, "I love you. We'll get through this together." Hearing the determination in Virginia's voice as she said that made me thankful that I had her in my life. At that moment, I could almost believe that I would beat this.

That belief was short-lived, and by the time Virginia got home and burst through the front door, I was curled up on the couch, feeling terrible. Virginia gathered me up in her arms and started rocking me, murmuring, "I love you, Bonnie," over and over. That's when I started sobbing, my tears falling onto her chest. After a while, her comforting rocking lulled me asleep...

... As I returned to awareness, Virginia's arms still held me tight. I realized she had stayed there holding me, not letting me go. When she whispered, "I love you, Bonnie," my heart thrilled, knowing Virginia would be there for me, no matter what.

I tightened my arms around her as I said, "I love you, too, Virginia. Thank you for being here for me."

"Always, my love," Virginia answered. I heard the truth in her words, and I felt better at once. I wasn't dead yet and vowed to spend every minute I had left loving Virginia.

"I'm sorry I lost it there for a while," I said, sitting up and dashing the tears out of my eyes. "I feel better now."

"Good," Virginia said. "We'll take this one day at a time and see where it goes." I heard the sincerity in her voice and knew that if there was any way I was going to get through this, Virginia would show me the way.

"One day at a time," I repeated as I leaned in to kiss Virginia.

The kiss seemed to last forever as I felt her soft, supple lips on mine. There was no heat in the kiss, just the feeling that we were in this together, no matter the outcome. After a time, the kiss ended as our lips parted.

Virginia locked eyes with me and said, "I'm glad you're feeling better. Let me get out of this uniform, and we'll get lunch?"

Falling into those sapphire blue wells, I leaned in for another kiss, and before our lips met, I said, "Sure."

Our lips met once again, molding together as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I pressed in, demanding more from Virginia's lips, wanting them to shove the horror of what I would face away for a brief moment. For a while, it worked, and our passion ramped up as our mouths opened, our tongues battling for supremacy. I needed this affirmation of life more than ever...

***

... I was enjoying my run a lot. My body felt so light, and I effortlessly flew over the ground. The sun was bright and hot but not oppressive. The grass had turned to sand, but I kept going, churning my legs as I continued running full-out. I dodged between the people strolling or standing around, moving so fast that most didn't have time to react before I was past them. They were all so much taller than me, but I didn't let that bother me...

***

May 1992

... The pain broke through, disrupting my reminiscence. Mom stepped back as Helen came up when I moaned from the pain to adjust my drip. I shook my head and said, "No, Helen. I need to be able to talk to Virginia when she gets here. I'll put up with the pain. Please?"

"Just let me know if it gets to be too much for you, Bonnie," Helen said, and I could see the unshed tears in her eyes. She'd been by my side for the past two weeks. I'd come to appreciate everything Helen has done to make me comfortable.

"Thank you, Helen," I said. Knowing the end was near, I went on, "Thanks for everything, dear. You've made my last days bearable, and I can never thank you enough for everything you've done." At that point, I teared up, knowing that Helen had a thankless job. No matter how hard she tried, her patients always died. How Helen could accept that amazed me.

"I just wish I could have done more for you, Bonnie," she said. That's when I saw the tears start dripping down her cheeks.

"Just keep me alive until Virginia gets here, and you'll have my undying thanks," I said.

As Helen turned away to return to her seat, the darkness threatened to overwhelm me as I thought back to the day I first met Helen...

April 1992

... I started awake, and for a moment, I was confused about where I was. I heard the sound of machinery and the steady beeping from something. I tried to move and open my eyes when I felt someone take my hand and Virginia's voice saying, "Hello, my love."

I could hear the pain and weariness in her voice, and I teared up from knowing I was the cause of it. I tried to speak, but my throat was sore and gummed up, so I had to clear my throat before I could reply, "Hello, my love."

Without thinking, I went to brush my hair out of my eyes before opening them, forgetting that I had no hair left. It had all fallen out due to the chemo I'd been taking. My fingers met only the fabric of the scarf I wore on my head to cover up my baldness. Once my eyes opened, I looked over and saw Virginia looking at me. I saw the tears in her eyes, and my heart ached, knowing I was responsible for the tears in those beautiful sapphire blue eyes.

I squeezed Virginia's hand, trying to remember what had happened, but it was too fuzzy to put it together. When Virginia returned my squeeze, I croaked, "What happened?"

"You had a bad reaction to the contrast solution," Virginia said.

Her words jogged my memory, and I remembered how I had managed to hold still long enough for the CAT scan to finish before I threw up all over the place. The technician almost freaked out before regaining his composure and making sure I didn't aspirate my vomit. He called in a nurse to help get me back on the gurney before wheeling me out of the room. I must have passed out while being wheeled through the hallways and then woke to find myself here.

I was in such bad shape because I had a bad reaction to the chemo. I had been part of a clinical trial of Gemcitabine as the drug used for the chemotherapy I underwent. I had a bad reaction to it from the start, but I had recovered to almost normal before getting another treatment. Instead of getting better with time, each treatment set me back even more. By the time my last treatment came about, the nurses had delayed starting my IV until they had discussed my situation with the doctor. I know Virginia was upset, and as I sat there with the IV needle in my arm, I heard her having a heated discussion with the doctor in the hall outside the door.

After exchanging words, the doctor managed to mollify Virginia's concerns and instructed the nurse to proceed with the IV. I dreaded it because I knew it would make me feel even worse than I already felt. I did manage to get through it and make it home before I puked everything up.

Two weeks after my last treatment, it was time to get the CAT scan. However, I was in such bad shape they admitted me to the hospital. They put me on a D5W IV to get me hydrated and reverse the weight loss I had suffered from not keeping anything down that I tried to eat.

"Have they come back with the results yet?" I asked, hoping, for Virginia's sake, that it would be good news but knowing deep down inside that it wouldn't be. I had gone through all of the chemo treatments, suffering the effects of it, not in the hope that it would make things better for me, but because it gave Virginia hope that she could fix this. I needed Virginia to believe that I wasn't going to die for as long as possible because I didn't want her to hurt any sooner than she had to.

"No," Virginia answered, squeezing my hand. "Nobody's come in yet. I called Alice to let her know I was still here."

I teared up again, not because I felt sorry for myself, but because I felt terrible for Virginia. She was the one who would have to live on with this, not me. Soon, it would be over for me, but for Virginia, it would go on for as long as she lived. I knew she would be there for the boys, giving them all of her love and strength so they would get through this. That comforted me because they were the prime motivation behind ensuring Virginia loved them as much as I did. But who would be there for Virginia?

As much as it hurt me to contemplate, I needed Virginia to move on and find someone else to love. I've dropped hints over the past two months but have yet to come right out and tell her. I had to find a way to do it in such a way that Virginia wouldn't think I was giving up.

Virginia saw my tears and squeezed my hand again before leaning in and hugging me, kissing my cheek. "I love you," she declared, pulling back and locking eyes with me.

"I love you more," I said, my lips curling up into a smile at the thought that I did love her so much.

When Virginia returned, "Not possible," I closed my eyes, comforted that she still believed I would pull through this. I drowsed off, thinking about how it was possible...

... I started awake when Virginia took my hand and squeezed it. I was aware the doctor had come into the room. I looked up at him, and I could tell from the look on his face he did not have good news. He scrubbed his face with his hand before he said, "Bonnie, we looked at the CAT scan, and I'm afraid your cancer has not been diminished."

Virginia's grip on my hand tightened, and she said, "So, all this misery she's gone through with the chemo was for nothing?" I heard the anger in her voice turn to fear as the realization of what he was saying started sinking in. I squeezed her hand back to reassure her I was still there.

"We had to try," the doctor said, looking down, not wanting to meet my eyes, and scrubbed his face again with his hand.

I realized he was upset the chemo hadn't worked, and my heart went out to him. "What do we do now?" I asked, knowing the answer but wanting Virginia to hear it for herself from the doctor.

"I still can't do any surgery," he said, finally looking up and locking eyes with me. I saw the pain in his eyes when he continued, "We can't try any more chemo because of the Gemcitabine trial you had gone through. The reaction you had to the drug tells me you couldn't tolerate anything else we could try."

"So, chemo is off the table?" I asked him, squeezing Virginia's hand hard so she'd pay attention to his answer.

"Yes," he answered, his voice rough with emotion as he pronounced my death sentence. "In truth, your only option left is to either die here in the hospital or die at home with Hospice."

With that said, he turned to leave, saying, "I'll leave you to discuss this together." He walked out the door, leaving us alone.

I turned to Virginia and locked eyes with her. I saw the unshed tears in her eyes and the growing realization I was going to die. I started tearing up, imagining the pain and fear Virginia was going to go through now. It was time to acknowledge what I had known for some time now. I said, "Take me home. I want to be home when I die."

I squeezed Virginia's hand hard and saw the tears threatening to start falling. I watched as she gathered herself and put on a brave face before she said, "Of course, my love."

Just then, the attending nurse came in to get me ready to go. Virginia took her aside and started asking about how to get in contact with Hospice. I nodded at the nurse to indicate it was okay, so they left the room to work things out. While they were gone, I lay there, planning how I would get Mom and the boys to accept my decision.

The boys would have Virginia to lean on. I teared up, thinking about how the boys would feel about it. I remembered how I had felt when Dad had died so long ago. Of course, I was much younger than Matthew and Mark are now. Mom would have Kathy to lean on. I just wished Kathy could be here for Mom. I vowed to call her and ask her to come as soon as possible.

Just then, Virginia and the nurse came back into the room. The nurse started fussing with my IV, getting it unhooked. Virginia stood next to me and took my hand, squeezing it almost to the point of pain as she struggled with the emotions going through her. I squeezed her hand back, wishing I could take all of her fear and pain away from her.

We locked eyes, and I could see her fighting to be strong for me rather than give in to her despair. I knew she would try to internalize all of her pain, and I needed to get her just to let it out. I knew she wouldn't do it here, so I hoped the nurse wouldn't take too long to get me ready to go home. When the nurse went out to get a wheelchair for me, I said, "It's okay, my love. I'm ready to go home now."