Jeni’s small fist connected with his left bicep when he stood. “Cut it with the attitude. That won’t help anything. Take this first round like a champ and they’ll go back to Nebraska and leave us be.”
“You’re right,” he agreed.
“To be clear,” Jeni said in a low tone. “I’m asking for my sake. I’m the one they’re staying with.” She bugged her eyes out at him meaningfully.
Andrew laughed. “How’s that been going?”
“I’ve been eating well.” She paused. “It’s not worth it.”
“I bet not.” Andrew smiled and shook his head, and he and his family followed the woman through the door.
“I’m Karen, one of the medical assistants. Is this your first time here?” Her smile was kind but not pitying, something Andrew appreciated.
“Yes.”
“I’ll point out the important things as we go, then. The infusion center is U-shaped and separated into five nursing pods. Your chemo nurse is Mandi, and she’s wonderful.”
They passed rows of large leather recliners. Each chair had its own small flat-screen television in front of it, and curtains that could be pulled around for privacy. Few people had their curtains closed, and Andrew’s eyes passed over the other patients receiving treatment. The wide range of ages and health conditions was surprising. Before his own diagnosis, he thought cancer was something that only old people got. He hadn’t known anyone his age who’d had it, with the exception of a high school buddy whose little sister had had leukemia. They’d had a big fundraiser at school to raise money for a bone marrow transplant she needed, and as far as Andrew knew, she was okay now. Most of the patients he saw appeared to be older than fifty, but there were also a few who looked to be his age, or maybe in their thirties.
“There are two bathrooms in each pod. You can get up and walk around if you want…just stay on this floor and take your IV pole with you.”
Finally, they arrived at an empty recliner with two wooden chairs nearby. Karen glanced at the women who flanked him, two on each side. “Here we are. Have a seat, I’ll go grab two more chairs, then I’ll take your vitals.”
Karen left and Rhonda followed behind to help. Andrew hesitated before he sat down.
His mom sat down beside him and immediately started to cry.
Andrew took a deep breath. Patience, he told himself. “You okay, Mom?”
“I’m sorry,” she sniffled. “I’m f-f-fine.”
Jeni gave her a small shove from behind. “Move over. Andrew doesn’t need that right now.”
This was why Jeni was his favorite. Without argument, his mom moved to the second chair over, and Jeni replaced her in the one nearest to Andrew.
Karen and Rhonda returned, and while his sisters settled themselves around him, the medical assistant strapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm. She chatted with him as she worked, reading off his blood pressure and pulse aloud when she wrote it down. “Perfect numbers.”
“Look at that, healthy as a horse,” he said. “You know, except for the cancer.”
Karen averted her eyes, and Jeni glared at him. A fresh wave of tears came from his mother.
Andrew shrugged. “Not ready to joke about it yet? Okay.”
Karen gathered up her equipment and offered him an unsure smile before she left.
A tall blond nurse in blue scrubs soon approached, pushing a rolling cabinet with several drawers and a kit of supplies on the top.
“Hi there, I’m Mandi,” she said in a southern drawl. “You must be Andrew.”
“That’s me.”
“Looks like you’ve got a nice cheering section started over here,” she said as she took in the overcrowded space.
“That’s a nice way to put it,” Andrew remarked.
“He’s right. We’re more like squawking hens than a cheering section,” Jeni said.
“I resent that,” Valerie said. “I’d prefer to be called a mother hen.”