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2002-11-11 : 6:46 p.m.
heat
The first of subsequent vivid memories of his sickness.
And they say cancer doesn't have a face. He was... we were... nineteen. Nine-fucking-teen... in 1996... I was home for the summer... car less, i had to depend on Jen to go see him at the hospital... Jen had already seen him quite a few times... but I was away at school, and to an extent trapped by it. But even she wasn't ready for this. We walked into I.C.U. and Danny had a small room to himself... The fourth wall and window... acted as a giant window... I realized in part... so that the medical staff could keep an eye on him... without having to go in. Jen and I had to get suited from head to toe... masks and all, to go see him. You see, he had just gone through a bone marrow transplant... his immune system was weak and any little thing could compromise it.... Because of this, we initially had to wait days, before even being able to visit him... when I had initialy gotten back from Gainesville. But when the doctor's finally said okay... we were there the next day. I'll never forget the conversation Jen (H.) and I had in the car on the way there: "Jennifer... I'm telling you... I've read a lot about this... this isn't good Jennifer... this is not fucking good...." I insisted. "But his mom said he was okay... that the doctor's decided to just go ahead with this, because it was the next thing to do... that's what she said, she wouldn't lie..." Little did we, or less... I know... But the fact was, Danny had only been fighting the cancer with chemo- and drugs, for about seven months (since his diagnosis) at that point... And I knew... such transplants... were only done as a last resort... only and if... you see, I had already watched my best friends mom (Jennifer F.'s- different Jen), my second mom, die from breast cancer... "Alex... they said he's doing good... they would tell us if it were different... right?" She looked at me. "Right." And that was the start of some warped denial I had let myself slip into... knowing everything I had and still know about cancer... and the way it eats you. So we suited up, and even found a bit of humor about it before going in... "Jesus, even our hair is tucked in this cap- shit... how the hell is he gonna even recognize us?" "Alex, even under that damn gown, you can see your huge tits... he'll definitely recognize you..." Looking down... "You're right... you jealous tiny bitch..." We fucking laughed... Then his mom seemed to be prepping us a bit before we went in. Going on, about how the previous night... all the nurses had to pin him back into his bed... because he had gotten up, in a hazed and confused rush: wailing for his friends... asking in protest "Mami... donde estan?" (Mommy... where are they?) Apparently, the delusions were a side effect of the high dosses of morphine that he was on. Then the nurse opened the door for us... I didn't know why, until I actually saw him... but I remember being so nervous. Danny was in a deep slumber... and he WAS NOT the boy I knew. His face and head had swelled to at least four times it's normal size... and the rest of his body was skinny... so skinny... His skin was so dark... as if he had just come off sun tanning in the bahamas for a couple months... and his now, bald head was red ( and burned), and scabs throughtout his face and body... from the sweltering blisters trying to heal... this was the trace of chemo in all it's hell and glory... I walked to the left side of his bed... Jen stayed at his feet... it was as if she couldn't move any closer... I remember looking at Jen and seeing her face... the stare... utter disbelief... this couldn't be Danny... She touched his foot and said he was so "hot"... Danny began to crack open his eyes... He looked confused at first... that was when we noticed the color of his eyes... they had always been a hazel/brown... but that day, his pupils were dialated and the color surrounding them was yellow... they looked like surreal cat-eyes... And then in almost a whisper... we each said hello to him... he was still a bit dazed... until his mother come though the door and said... "... mira amor... es Jenny y Alex... tus amigitas..." ( look love, it's Jenny and Alex... your friends...) And then he gave us that crooked smile and in the most delectable mumble said... "...what up..." I can't remember anything else Jenny and I talked to him about... anything really... because it was all so stupid really... stuff like... 'How are you doing?' and the such... the kind of shit that makes you want to slap yourself afterwords... because we just didn't know what to say... at all... I mean, what is the absolute perfect thing to say... there was simply no advice to give, no way to alleviate a thing... all I remember was petting his head... and at some point telling him... the bald look was good for him... "Yeah, your looking hot baby..." "Oh you know he's thinking dirty stuff about the nurses already..." Jen would add... he would then interject with his muffled chuckle... usually brought to a quick end... from the obvious pain the movement would create. I remember the silence in that room... in between those moments... I remember the feel of his head... It was rough from the hair folicles... and yet felt so delicate and soft, from the tightness of the skin... How strange that they had us suited up so well... yet we didn't wear any gloves... God how I remember... and the feel of the heat on my lips when we kissed him goodbye on his forhead... the heat.
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