The Castaway Hotel
Book 6

By: B W
(© 2012 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 39
The Ultimate Struggle. 

The center began Cody’s chemo treatments the next day and the drugs they used really wiped Cody out.  Within an hour after the treatment was administered, he fell asleep and was out for an hour or two.  Graham and I stayed at his bedside as he slept and Graham fussed over him the whole time. 

Graham brushed the hair off of Cody’s face, held his hand, stroked his arm and, occasionally, when just the three of us were in the room, he would give Cody a kiss.  It was very cute to watch and reminded me of the way a mother would take care of her child.  Graham even asked me if he could sleep with Cody, but I couldn’t allow that.  The nurses would have had a fit if they came in and discovered that happening.  However, there was one nurse who caught on to how close the two boys actually were and was willing to look the other way when things of that nature happened.

For example, when the boys’ favorite nurse came in to give Cody a sponge bath one day, Graham asked if he could help.  I know he wouldn’t have done that with any of the other nurses, but he seemed to feel comfortable with her, so he got up the courage and asked the question.  She told him he could wash the ‘more sensitive’ areas, as it might make Cody feel better if she wasn’t doing them, and he leaped at the opportunity.  She left the room as he did this, but Graham also took time to grab the electric razor from my travel kit and tidy the area up a bit, while he was at it.  Cody thought that was a stitch but wasn’t sure how he’d explain it to the other nurses, if they noticed the difference.

When bedtime rolled around, I let Graham use the second bed and I slept in the reclining chair in the room, but we only did that for a couple of nights.  One morning, when the doctor came in early to see Cody, he discovered what we had been doing and had another bed moved into the room.  Luckily, this wasn’t a small room, and although it made it a little cramped, everything fit and now we each had a bed to sleep in. 

After the doctor fixed the problem for us, I decided to confront him about how he thought things were going with Cody.  When he left the room, I followed him into the hall, so I could make my inquiry in private.  As soon as the door to the room was closed, I spoke.  “Doc, is he getting any better?”

He didn’t answer right away, but the look he gave me when he turned around told as much as any words could.  After an awkward pause, he answered.  “I’m sorry, but he’s not responding well to the chemotherapy.  The tumors have hardly been affected and the drugs are throwing his other bodily functions into disarray, so I’m considering stopping the treatment.”

“Then what would you do next?” I asked, concerned.

“If I stop the treatments, I’m not sure what, if anything, we could do next,” he responded.  “I’ve consulted with several of my colleagues about this, and I’ve shown them his complete medical file, but as of yet we haven’t come up with a better solution.  However, we aren’t going to give up until we’ve considered every option.  I know this isn’t easy for you, but none of us are giving up on your son.”

“I appreciate that,” I told him, “but can’t you contact other specialists in this field, to see if they know of any other options?”

“I’ve already done that, but so far none of them has recommended another course of treatment,” he confirmed.  “We’ll all keep trying, but for right now, I don’t know what else I can tell you.  Unfortunately, there is another complication, as well,” he continued.  “It appears Cody is also suffering from a fungal infection around his brain and that might cause him to start having seizures.  If that happens, it will only complicate the situation.  I wish I had better news for you, but this is all I have to offer.”

After hearing this, I was devastated.  Even though he promised not to give up trying to help Cody, the implications behind what he told me painted a different picture.  He seemed to be saying there wasn’t much he could do for my boy.  Now, I was determined to confront him and find out for sure. 

“Doc, is he going to die?” I asked, point blank.

“Mr. Currie, there is no easy way to put this,” he answered, “but unless someone alerts me to some new procedure or some miracle cure, I think we’re running out of time.”

My heart sank when I heard his reply and my knees became weak.  I think the doctor noticed this too, because he reached out to steady me.  “Are you all right?” he asked, concerned.

“I’m not sure if I’ll ever be all right, unless we find a way to save Cody,” I confessed, nearly in tears.  “I’ve already lost one son, in an automobile accident, and I’m not sure if I can survive losing another.  You’ve got to promise me you’ll go that extra mile to try to save him, no matter what it costs.  Money isn’t an issue here.”

The doctor looked shocked by the intensity of my statement, but I think he understood what I meant and why I said it.  He was very comforting in his response. 

“Mr. Currie, I’ll do everything for your son and give him the same effort I would if he were my own child,” he assured me.  “Money is never the main issue with me, so you don’t have to worry about that.  I promise I will give this my best effort and Cody will receive my utmost attention.”

This did help to reassure me a little, but the reality of the situation was beginning to hit home.  How in the world would I be able to cope with losing another child, especially when the loss of the first one almost killed me?  Even though I was being prepared for this in advance, Graham had tired to alert me about Brent’s death too, but that still came as a shock.  I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle this one any better than the first, since I still believe a parent shouldn’t see his children die before him.  I decided it was time to turn to prayer and seek heavenly intervention.

Later, when I called home and talked to Jake, I explained the situation.  He offered his support and tried to convince me not to give up hope.  I told him wouldn’t, but felt he should start preparing the boys for this possibility, without coming out and telling them Cody was going to die.  I didn’t want them to be shocked, if something did happen.  He said he would do as I asked and then suggested he would bring all the boys to the hospital this coming weekend, so they could visit Cody.  He felt that might help lift Cody’s spirits and put him in a positive mental state. 

I agreed it was a good idea, but realized he couldn’t fit all the boys in one vehicle.  Jake then said he’d have Mark or Dustin drive the van or Suburban, as they were the oldest and most experienced of our other drivers.  Once I agreed with his idea, Jake asked what things he could bring for us.  He understood I would be staying here for longer than I’d anticipated and wanted to make sure I had everything I’d need for the stay. 

We even discussed what we should do about Graham.  I knew there was no way I could convince Graham to leave Cody, but I wasn’t sure how he would handle it if he saw Cody die.  After talking this over for many minutes, Jake and I decided there wouldn’t be any significant difference in how Graham was going to react, whether he was with Cody at the time or not.  However, we concluded it might be easier for him to deal with Cody’s death, if he was there for him at the end.  Otherwise, he might always have psychological and emotional issues to deal with, such as regrets about leaving or failing Cody when he needed him most.  After a great deal of discussion, I finally told Jake to bring some things for Graham too, as we might not be home for quite a while. 

The next morning, I called and reserved rooms for Jake and the boys at a nearby hotel and informed both Cody and Graham that the rest of the family was coming for a visit.  I knew the others would probably only be allowed to see Cody in groups of two or three at a time, so Graham and I would make ourselves scarce while they were here, to give them an opportunity to be with Cody too. 

I not only talked this over privately with Graham one afternoon, while Cody was sleeping, but I also arranged it with Cody’s doctor, so there would be no problems when they all arrived.  I think the doctor was quite amazed when I told him how many people it involved, but he did agree to let them visit Cody three at a time.  He told me he also knew our family would be the talk of the hospital for months to come.

I also mentioned the visit to our favorite nurse, the one who was so good with Graham and Cody.  She reacted in disbelief too, once she became aware of all the details.  At first I think she thought we were pulling her leg, but then we showed her the family picture, to prove our point.  Even though she had seen the photo sitting on Cody’s nightstand before, she admitted she thought it was of a group Cody belonged to or possibly a picture of a neighborhood recreational organization.  Once I explained who each of the boys were and how they came to live with me, she realized this was no joke.  That’s when she announced she’d prepare the rest of the staff for what was to come, so it wasn’t so awkward.

I also made sure to call my older children and explain the situation to them as well, just in case they also wanted to visit Cody.  I advised them against bringing my grandchildren, but they argued Jordan and Nicky might be old enough for this.  I thought the others were still too young to deal with the situation, but I was willing to reconsider the older pair.  I told them we’d discuss this again, later. 

Each of my older children then told me they would come for a visit and I told them to let me know exactly when they’d be here, so I could reserve rooms for their stay.  They told me they would and then took down the number for the phone I had hooked up in Cody’s room, since you’re not supposed to use cell phones in the hospital. 

I originally had the phone hooked up so he could talk to everyone while I was gone, but now it took on an even greater importance, as it would become the information hub concerning Cody’s condition.  I still held a great deal of hope that a miracle awaited us, but I also had to concede the need to be a realist.

Before my children arrived, I had an opportunity to speak with the doctor alone again, as I wanted to see if there were any changes in Cody’s condition.  “Doc, have you discovered anything new since we last spoke?”

“No, Mr. Currie, I’m sorry,” he told me.  “No one from any of the other cancer centers has been able to offer any other options.”

“Then there’s no chance for him?” I wondered.

“I wish I could say there was, but I’m afraid there isn’t, at least none under my control,” he replied.  “However, I have seen unexplainable things happen, but those are very rare.”  Even though he had basically pulled the rug out from under me, he had also left me a very slim ray of hope to cling to.

I was unable to respond right away, as I was too choked up with emotion, but the doctor was patient and waited for me to compose myself.  When I did, I tried to clear up another question. 

“Do you think it would be better if I took him home for what little time he has left?” I wanted to know.  “I think he would feel more comfortable there.”

“Mr. Currie, he’s liable to be in considerable pain at the end and having seizures,” he informed me, “and we’ll be better equipped to manage his pain here.  Besides, how will your boys react if he dies at home?  Would they be able to put that behind them later or even be able to enter the room he dies in without thinking about the fact it was where he passed?”

“No, I suppose you’re right,” I conceded, “but can we at least have permission to have everyone who wants to be here in the room with him when that time comes?”

“Certainly,” he told me, even though we were both a little choked up at this point.  It was clear he was willing to do anything to help us get through this when it happened. 

That weekend everyone showed up, as planned.  Some of them arrived on Friday, while others got there before noon on Saturday, but the whole family rallied around our stricken loved one.  As the various groups began to arrive, the staff allowed them to go in and see Cody, three at a time, but I asked them to keep the conversation light.   I suggested they talk about things at home or maybe recall something memorable or humorous that had happened in the past.  We also suggested they not mention the seriousness of his condition, as I didn’t want Cody to panic or lose his incentive to keep fighting.  Everyone agreed to my conditions and then started going in to see him in shifts, which lasted about fifteen to twenty minutes at a time. 

Peter had come with the others and cornered me, while some of the boys were in with Cody.  “Pop, I’m so sorry he is this bad,” he told me and I could see the sincerity in his face.  “I do hope he will get well.” 

“I’m afraid there isn’t much chance that will happen,” I told him, which caused Peter to look shocked and sad.  “I just feel bad that you had to be here and are now forced to deal with this too.”
 

“Oh, no, Sir. I’m fine and I hope I can help in some way,” he offered.  He was just so sweet. 

“Thank you, Peter.  It is nice of you to think like that,” I told him.  “I’m sure you will have your hands full helping Ricky, because I suspect this will be hard on him.  Even though he hasn’t know Cody for very long, they did bond and are very much alike.”

“I’ve noticed that too, Pop,” he confirmed.  “I haven’t been here long either, but I have seen how they are when they are around each other.”

“Precisely,” I concurred.  “So you help Ricky and that will help me.”

Peter and I talked for a while longer and he did everything he could think of to try to make me feel better.  He was a very caring and sensitive young man.  I was even more surprised he had survived Ricky’s abuse, but I guess he can dole it out too.

Getting back to Cody, he was quite excited when he began to receive visitors.  He thought it was nice that everyone had come so far just to see him.  The early conversations were about how he was feeling, what types of things they had done to him so far or if he had any trouble sleeping, especially with me snoring in the same room.  Broaching this topic usually meant Cody would end up doing an exaggerated impression of my nocturnal sound show and this would get everyone laughing, including Cody. 

Some of the boys asked Cody about the food.  They wanted to know if it was better or worse than what they served at school, but Cody would only tell them it was okay, but nothing special.  Later, they did get him to admit it was in the same league as the general school fare, which wasn’t a compliment.

The visits seemed to go very well and the others appeared to lift Cody’s spirits and made him lose focus on his concerns.  However, some of the sessions were dramatically interrupted by one of Cody’s seizures.  Whenever this happened, those in the room would be asked to leave for a while, until the seizures ended and Cody had been able to rest for a short time.  Even though we experienced these minor setbacks, I thought, overall, everything was going quite well.  That was until late Saturday night, just before we went to sleep. 

Cody had been in a fairly good mood for the past couple of days, but after everyone left his room that night, he began to get very serious.  Graham had gone out to eat with the others, as we had all been living on hospital cuisine for longer than we cared to.  Knowing he would benefit from the change, Cody and I talked him in to going with Jake and his brothers for dinner, and then possibly to a movie, just so he could have a brief break.  Cody had tried to get me to join them as well, but there was no way I was going to leave him, unless he suddenly got better.  I would never be able to forgive myself if he expired while I was away. 

Now that we were alone, he must have felt it was time to clear the air a bit.  As he turned toward me, I noticed his facial expression was very sad and pathetic looking.  Just seeing how he looked would melt the heart of the coldest person who had ever lived.  I suddenly felt a lump forming in my throat, even before he began to speak.

“They’re all here because they know I’m going to die, aren’t they?” he asked, putting me on the spot.  I tried to mask my surprise and control my emotions as I responded, but my resolve was now shaken and my acting abilities weren’t up to the task.

“No, Cody.  They’re here because they love and care about you,” I told him.  “They came to show their support and to let you know how much they want you to get better.”  I put on as brave a face as I could for him, but I think he noticed the cracks in my mask.

“Dad, you can tell me the truth,” he responded, and his eyes were pleading with me not to treat him like a little child.  “It’s going to happen pretty soon, isn’t it?  I know, because I’m feeling weaker every day.”

“Cody, I won’t lie to you.  You are very sick and it’s possible you might not make it,” I confessed.  “However the weakness you are feeling is because of the chemotherapy and the seizures you’ve been having.  You must remember how the chemotherapy did that to you the last time too, don’t you?”  He nodded, and then gave me his ‘don’t try to fool me’ look.

“I remember how it was the last time, but this time it’s not like that,” he reasoned.  “I can feel the difference and I didn’t have seizures before.”

“Well, not every time is the same,” I informed him, “and last time you were taking the drugs to kill the diseased cells in your body.  This time you’re taking different drugs, to shrink the tumors, and you didn’t have this other infection before either.  I think it might have something to do with the difference in the drugs and what they’re meant for.  That might make it seem a little different to you, but it’s to be expected.”

“Maybe you’re right, Dad, but I don’t know.  I just have this feeling…” I cut him off.  I didn’t like where this was going and I was praying there might still be a chance for him to pull through.  If there was, it would have to begin with him, so I intended to put him in the right frame of mind, to help make it possible.

“Well, you just get rid of that feeling then,” I urged, “because you’ll have to fight, if you want to get better.  Any doctor will tell you one of the biggest factors in a person’s getting well is his mental attitude, so you’ll just have to let go of all those morbid thoughts.  If you don’t, then I’m afraid your fears might come true, as that negative energy will work its way through not only your mind, but your body as well.”

He seemed to consider the meaning of my words, before he said anything, and looked very thoughtful, before he responded.  “Do you really think it can make that big of a difference?”

“Yes, Cody, I do,” I confirmed.  He took another minute to reflect on this, before he decided what to do next.  Finally. he reached his own conclusion.

“Okay, if it’s that important, then I’ll try not to think about dying any more,” he agreed.  After telling me this, he gave me a weak smile, which made me feel he was doing this more for me, than for himself.  Regardless of the reason, I just hoped he would keep his word.

“Good,” I told him, to let him know I approved.  “You just spend your time concentrating on getting better and that will make all of us very happy.”  He smiled at me again and then we hugged.  Hopefully a change in outlook might at least make him feel better, if nothing else.

To be continued...

Posted: 11/16/12