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I'm Not Letting Go~~Chapter 1
Cancer. Who'd have thought I'd have cancer? I'm not in my 20's or 30's, but still to be 47 and have cancer just seems wrong. The other cancer patients where I get my chemo treatments are in their 70's and older. I feel odd being there, but hey, I still have my long, dark brown hair. They said I'd lose it through the chemo, but so far I haven't. YAY! This week as I sat in my usual little room, in my usual little chair getting my usual chemo infusion, I saw 2 men walk past the opened door. One quite large, resembling a pro-wrestler or something like that, and the other thin and in a hoodie, jeans and sunglasses. I heard one of the men speaking to Annaliese, the receptionist, who's desk was across the hall from my little room. " Are there any children here? I wanted to cheer them up." " No," she replied," We never have children here. Only adults." " Oh," he said with a sigh," Okay, thanks anyhow." " Sure." she smiled. The two men walked past my room;the thinner one looking in as he went by. He HAD to be a Michael Jackson impersonator. He had him down pat. The walk, the look, the way he moved. The man came back into view and stood in the open doorway to my room, speaking softly. " Uh, hello." " Hello." I replied. " You're all alone." " Yeah, I'm always in here alone." I said with a little smile. " That must be lonely." he said. " It can be." " Um," he said, taking a step into my room," May I come in and visit with you for a few minutes?" " Sure," I answered," Have a seat." " Thank you," he answered sitting down in the only other chair in the room," You seem awfully young to be here. Not that children don't get cancer, but you just seem out of place." " I feel it too. And thanks for calling me young...I'm 47." I smiled. " Really? Wow, I was guessing like 33." he smiled. " Oh I like your guess, thank you." He chuckled," Oh, by the way, I'm Michael." I kind of chuckled too," Somehow that doesn't surprise me. You look a lot like Michael Jackson." " Yeah, I've been told that." he said," That's how I make my living." " That must be fun." " It can be. Are you a fan of his?" he asked. " Well, I grew up listening to the Jackson 5, and I've followed his career, but I've never been one of those crazy fans. I do think it's a shame what happened to him." " Which thing?" he asked. " Oh, so many things, actually. The abuse he went through as a child, then becoming so big he couldn't breathe without it being news--how could anyone exist with the world watching your every move? Then him dying so young--it's just sad and tragic." I said. " Sometimes things happen for a reason." he replied. " Yes, they do. Of course, most times I can't figure out what the reason is, but maybe we're not supposed to." " I've heard talk that he was a drug addict. Do you believe that?" he asked. " I've read some stuff on it and honestly, I was prescribed a LOT and I mean a LOT of pain medication for a back injury and people could have claimed the same about me. There's two sides to everything. And the poor guy's insomnia," I chuckled," I know EXACTLY how desperate you can feel just wanting to sleep. I have horrid insomnia. No pill has ever made it better. I've tried them all and I just can't sleep. It drives me nuts." He smiled a little," It sure sounds like you know what it feels like." " Oh I do. I think mine stems from some of the insanity my Dad put us through as kids, but now there's the pain and worry and anxiety about this tumor--I swear some days I'd pay someone to bonk me over the head with something heavy just to knock me out." I smiled. " You had an abusive father?" he asked. I nodded," Mental stuff, mostly. I don't have a relationship with him and that's fine by me." " What about your mother?" he asked. " She's back in Ohio, where I'm from." " I imagine that's hard on both of you being so far apart." " I guess it is sometimes. I didn't live with either of my parents after they divorced. My grandparents adopted my sister and I." " Really? That's kinda cool," he said," So your grandparents are in Ohio then?" " No, in Heaven. Grandpa in 1976, my grandma in 2002." " Oh, I'm sorry," he said sincerely," You know, you haven't told me your name." " Oh I guess I haven't, have I?" I smiled," It's Leslie." " That's such a pretty name." " Thank you." " I guess I probably oughtta get going," he said standing up and extending his hand to me," I've enjoyed visiting with you though." I shook his hand," Thanks, I've enjoyed it too." " Are you here every day?" he asked. " No, just once a week---so far anyway." " Well Leslie, feel better and God Bless you." " Thank you, Michael. Take care." I watched him walk out the door and I sighed. Back to being alone. * * " Okay," said Kim my oncology nurse," This is your benedryl." " Oh yum," I teased," My favorite." " See ya in 20 minutes." This was my weekly routine. Benedryl was first through my IV, then Xanax, then the heavy hitters--carboplatin and taxol. At least 4 hours each time of sitting in the generic, vinyl, turquoise colored recliner. Kim was great though. She was head of the department and very good at what she did, but also fun loving and caring. It takes very special people to do what Kim does, as well as all of the other Oncology nurses. As I closed my eyes for a moment, I heard footsteps stop at my doorway and a voice I'd only heard once before. " Hi Leslie." I opened my eyes," Oh, hello Michael." " Oh I woke you. I'm SO sorry!" he apologized. " No, no, you didn't. I just closed my eyes for a moment. I didn't sleep again last night and the light is bothering my eyes. C'mon in, sit down." " You sure?" he asked. " Of course, have a seat. Pick any one." I teased, since there was still only the one other chair in the room. He chuckled," I think I'll sit here." " Good choice." I answered," Did you come looking to entertain kids?" " No, they told me last week that this place is for adults only, but I wanted to see how you were doing." " That's very nice of you, thank you." " So, how are you?" " Tired. Worn out, pretty sick of feeling sick." I said. " I'm so sorry. I wish there were something I could do to make it better. Is there anything? Anything at all?" he asked. " I wish there were, but I'm glad you came to visit." I smiled. " Me too." I picked up my left hand and pulled a piece of hair off my sweater," Shedding." I teased. " Hey, you're wearing wedding rings. You're a married lady, hmm? Is your husband working? Is that why you're here alone?" he asked. " ...no...he's not working. He uh, he died 5 months ago." " Oh my God, I'm so sorry," he reached over and briefly touched my hand," Had he been ill?" " No, actually he was always in perfect health. Tall, slender, roller bladed, hiked...went out for a walk one day and had a massive heart attack. He died quickly." I said. " That's just terrible, Leslie. How long were you married?" " It would be 24 years next week." I answered. Michael looked sad and his eyes were misty. Clearly he was a very sensitive person," Did he know you had cancer?" " No," I shook my head," I didn't know then either." " You've had a very rough few months," he said," Losing your husband then finding out you have cancer--no wonder you don't sleep." " Yeah it's been kind of a whirlwind of stuff for months." " You know what you need? You need to have some fun. To remember there's a world out there." " Ehh, the world is overrated." I smiled," Look at what it did to Michael Jackson. Made him basically a recluse, called him names, accused him of horrible things and even now that he's gone, he still can't be left alone." " It's the price of fame, Leslie." he said someberly," You become famous and you're open season." " But that's wrong, Michael. Look at what they did to Andy Gibb." " Andy Gibb?" he asked. " When he lost everything he was ridiculed and most articles still say he died of an overdose or suicide, not a heart defect.." " I remember well when he died." Michael said. " Me too. I've always been a Bee Gees fan, so following Andy's career kinda tied in." " You like the Bee Gees?" he smiled. " Love them. I used to manage a bakery and I'd send these huge boxes of cookies to Barry at his studio." I smiled. He giggled," That's really cool. Did he get them?" " Yeah, every time. He'd send me autographs, stuff from old tours and stuff like that. Then I got to meet him and Andy in 1987, ironically at a cancer fund raiser in Florida." " Did Barry know who you were?" he asked smiling. " Actually, he did. I was flattered. He was handsome and charming---and very married." I smiled. Michael laughed," In love with Barry Gibb, hmm?" " Oh always." " Well, I love the Bee Gees myself. Barry is an amazing songwriter." " Yeah he is." I agreed. Michael stayed the entire 4 hours and we talked the entire time. When I could leave, we headed out through the lobby together and his chattiness stopped and he kept his head down. Upon reaching the parking lot, he sighed," Much better." " What is?" I asked. " Being outside. All those people in the lobby kinda make me nervous." I smiled," But you're a Michael Jackson impersonator. You've GOT to be used to being looked at." " Oh, I am. I just like to try to keep a low profile when I'm not performing." " Oh I see," I answered," Well, I've gotta get headed home, but I thank you again for the visit." " It was my pleasure," he said," I'll walk you to your car." " Thank you." He walked me to my little Honda then gave me a smile as I unlocked the door," Drive safely, okay?" " Oh I will. Never a ticket yet." I smiled," Bye Michael." " Bye Leslie." he smiled and I saw him walk over to a black SUV with tinted windows and he got into the passenger seat. He'd had someone waiting the entire 4 hours that he spent talking to me. How kind he was.
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