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My mouth dropped open, appalled that he would even think to say such a thing or that we even had to have such a stupid conversation, but then Aiden and Boone both started laughing. It was loud enough to wake my dad and the next thing I knew, those three were cracking heaven and hell jokes.
I was pissed.
And I told them I was pissed.
And then Aiden said, “Get over it, Lilly. I want my last days here to be filled with laughs.”
Boy, that put me right in my place and I’ve stayed there since.
Aiden takes in a deep breath, or at least he attempts to. He has virtually no lung capacity and another two minutes into this conversation he’ll be gasping. I’ll get the nurse to bring a dose of morphine because he can take it every four hours. It really helps alleviate the sensation that he’s suffocating from his diminished lung capacity. The downside is it basically puts him to sleep, so he’s living most of his days now unaware of his body failing.
There’s a knock on the door and I glance over my shoulder to see Coen standing there. This is not a surprise as Aiden has had a continual revolving door of people coming to see him since word has gotten out that he’s declining.
This has included friends from school, teachers, workers from the deli and to his biggest delight, Pittsburgh Titans players. Coen came yesterday, so I’m surprised to see him here again. Aiden gushed so much over him being his favorite player and they both had a fun time rubbing Boone’s face in it while he pretended to be offended.
I stand from my chair, arching my back and groaning at the cracking vertebrae. I motion Coen down into it. “Enjoy your visit. I’m going to take a quick walk.”
Coen leans down and kisses my cheek before squeezing my upper arm. He doesn’t say anything, but I can see the sorrow and empathy within his gaze.
He moves to the chair and sits, reaching over to take Aiden’s hand. “How are you feeling today?”
I pause at the door and watch them talking quietly. Coen does most of the talking because it robs Aiden of breath to engage. I know we’re close to the end and I wonder how many more conversations he has left.
I take stock of my internal feelings, and I’m not ashamed to admit that while I want a million more back-and-forths with my brother, I also know he’s starting to get restless. He’s sleeping longer and requesting more of the morphine. It’s not an existence I want for him and so when I analyze how I feel, I know I’m ready. I turn around and step out of the room, running right into someone.
“Lilly, darling…”
I smile at Boone’s mother whose arms come to my shoulders. Claire stands right behind her. They’ve been here since the day before yesterday and I don’t know how long they’re going to stay. Maria, the hospice nurse, said that as Aiden’s body shuts down they’ll be able to give a much better prediction, but for right now he’s being the tough little boy who has conquered so many hills.
“We were just going to step in to visit Aiden.”
I throw my thumb over my shoulder. “Coen’s in there with him. Thought I would use the opportunity to stretch my legs. Want to join me for a short walk around the oncology ward?”
“Of course we do,” Claire says and somehow I end up between the two women, linked at our elbows as we stroll around the hospital.
We talk about everything but Aiden. Mostly stories about Boone to make me laugh and keep my mind blessedly occupied for a few minutes. They’ve been unobtrusive, coming up once yesterday to meet Aiden for the first time. He was groggy and a little out of it, but later he mentioned them.
We make the perimeter walk around the square oncology ward. I pass by a few kids I’ve come to know and love over the months and when we reach the elevator lobby, none other than the sweetest, hottest and most amazing man walks out.
Boone’s eyes light up when he sees me, his mom and sister together. They move forward to give him side hugs because one of his hands holds a huge platter covered in tinfoil. I’m sure it’s filled with desserts he somehow sweet-talked out of a cafeteria worker.
“Coen’s in visiting Aiden,” I say as I jerk my head toward his hall. “You two might be able to gang up on him to take a bite of whatever you have there.”
Boone’s expression morphs into one of challenge and he brushes past us. “I’m on it.”
Claire, Patricia and I laugh as we watch him hightail it around the corner, but it doesn’t last long. The smiles always end up sliding away and disappearing when we focus on the ugly truth behind that exchange.
Aiden is dying and his body is shutting down, thus he’s not hungry. No amount of chocolate cake is going to help him at this point.
CHAPTER 33
Lilly
It’s been alittle over two weeks since Aiden developed a cough.
Ten days since they diagnosed the fungal pneumonia.
Five days since Aiden decided to remove all supportive care to extend his life. He’s been living on borrowed time and morphine since.
