“No, Beautiful. At least I don’t think so?” I shrug because I don’t know why she didn’t mention to me that she’s obviously not feeling too hot. “Want to tell me why you had dialysis yesterday?” I make sure no judgment or anger is in my tone.
She shrugs in response, “You have a lot going on right now. I’m not trying to add on to it.”
“No, that’s not how this works and you know it. The truth. I’ve told you the truth about everything you’ve asked me, but you don’t tell me you’re getting worse?” As hard as I try, the irritation shines bright through my tone.
“Don’t do that, Mac. It’s not a big deal. My kidneys are shit and they’re going to get worse until I get a new one, you know this.”
Her voice seems so small, and it stops me in my tracks. She’s right. I do know that, so why the fuck am I staying away from her right now? She obviously needs me, and I’m majorly dropping the ball here. How many times have her siblings or parents had to carry her to bed or take care of her when it should have been me?
“I’m not leaving again. I’m so sorry I haven’t been here. I’m so sorry I’ve missed so much the past two months.”
Her eyebrows shoot to her hairline, “No.”
“No?” Confusion takes over my features.
“No, you aren’t doing that. You’re going to leave on Sunday and work through your fourth step. We’re going to be fine. Once you get through that step, you can stay longer than a few nights a month.” Her tone brokers no argument, and I can’t help the temper that surges through me.
“I can’t fucking do this right now.” Throwing my hands up, I storm off to her room and call Davis before I say something I’m going to regret.
He answers on the second ring, “Hello?”
“She’s getting worse. She’s getting worse, Davis, and I’ve missed it.”
“Slow down, kid. What are you talking about?” Come on, keep up here.
“Lee, I’m talking about Lee. She’s gotten worse. She’s lost weight, like a lot of weight. Her dialysis has been bumped up, although I’m not exactly sure by how much because I stormed out of the room before I could get that far. I need a fucking drink, Davis. I can’t handle this. Just a fucking shot, and I’ll be fine.”
“Are you kidding me, Mac? You don’t need that shit. I’m not going to lie to you and say that doesn’t suck, because it does. It really sucks, but I am going to remind you that you aren’t alone in this. You have people to lean on and so does she. Also, you made these once a month rules. You can change them. I’d do it within reason, but that’s also an option. You and her are in control here, but if you take that one drink, it all goes away. Just play that tape forward for a second. You know howit goes, you know where it leads. You’ve been there before, and that story ends with you in jail or in the ground. So just try dealing with this in a new way, without booze. What’s the worst that could happen? You can always go back to drinking if you want. But I promise you, you can do this.” He doesn’t get it.
“I can’t. She just told me she won’t let me see her more until I get past the fourth step. You know how fucking hard that is for me?”
The fourth step in my program seems simple enough, ‘take a moral inventory of yourself’. Basically writing down all my resentments, fears, and anything that I think contributed to me being an addict and the effects it’s had on my life and well-being. You’d think, ‘easy enough’ until you sit down and begin to write out all the fucked up shit you’ve done or experienced that made you turn to alcohol. Especially when the biggest reason is not someone, but something that happened to someone you love.
“Then I guess we better get working through that fourth step then. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get through it together then you’re going to go get your girl.”
Davis and I talk for a few more minutes and make plans to meet up when I leave here Sunday evening before hanging up. I lean my head back against the wall and take a few deep breaths before going back into the living room.
“You okay?” Lee asks as soon as she sees me. Her olive skin is so pale she practically matches the walls. Her face is too thin. She looks so sad, and I feel like an asshole.
“Yeah, I’m fine. How are you feeling?”
“Don’t do that. Please don’t dismiss me like that when we just fought and then I heard you talk about wanting a drink.”
“I’m not trying to dismiss you, Beautiful. It’s like my hands twitch for it, and my mouth waters thinking about it, but I’m not going to do it. I made my mind up when I laid in that bed and seriously thought I was going to die, that I’d never go back. If I was fortunate enough for the withdrawal not to kill me, I’d never touch it again, and I meant that. So yeah, out of habit, I wanted to throw one back to ease the burn of us fighting, and I’ve itched to have my hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey most mornings, but it passes. This is far from being ‘the past’, it’s very much still a part of my present, but I’m going to keep working on it. And I refuse to go back.”
She moves to make room for me behind her back and gestures for me to move in behind her.
“You’ll tell me if you’re going to go back? You’ll tell me?” Her misty eyes are practically a spear to my heart.
“I’ll tell you the truth, always.” Moving to get settled behind her, I wrap my arm around her waist, making sure not to tug or pull on anything. Her nurse gave me the rundown on how this shit wreaks havoc on her body multiple times a week. So I already knew it’d be a slow day just like the last time I was here. She doesn’t have to ask for anything. She just has to gesture for what she needs, and I’ll make it happen. “Lee, I need you to tell me how you feel. Remember this agreement is a two way street. If you’re struggling…”
She snuggles back into me, making sure there’s no space between us, “I’ll tell you. Truth, always. I’m okay, just a little light headed and sleepy. I’m sorry for not telling you, Quill. I’m now a five day a week patient. A new kidney will come soon, I know it will, and you’re going to work through this step, then come home to me a little more often.”
I can’t help the small smile that plays on my lips. “I’msorry too. I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I’m just scared. I’m going to work through it, then come straight to you, I promise.”
“You can do this. I believe in you.” She says past a yawn. I can’t say anything in response, my throat is too tight with emotion.
Peeking over at the clock on the wall, I note that she’s about halfway through her dialysis. She drifts off to sleep not long after she tells me that she believes in me. The rest of the day I stay awake and hold her while her body fights to keep her kidneys working. All I can do now is pray that one of my family members and men that work for us are a match while keeping her and I as healthy as I can.
