“He doesn’t know, but his wife found out,” I answer with a tight throat. “She’s been mixing his shampoo with hair remover for weeks now, just a little at a time so he won’t find out immediately. He’s still clueless.”
He puffs a laugh, attracting the attention of the old man. I avert my gaze, feeling my cheeks burn. I’m probably the same color of a tomato now. He casts us a disapproving look before leaning to grab a magazine.
“Page twelve is an article about erectile dysfunction,” Jack continues, eyes shimmering with barely contained laughter. “He needs all the help he can have now that he has to satisfy a younger woman.”
“That secretary is definitely not—”
“Slightlyyounger,” he interrupts, narrowing his eyes, and making me roll mine. “And she…”
“Mr. Willow?” The secretary calls from the doorframe and Jack tenses slightly.
“Yes,” my brother nods.
“Dr. Garret is ready for you.”
I start to stand but Jack places his hand on mine. “Can you go to the front desk to do the usual paperwork first? Join me after?”
I frown but after a second, I nod. He gives me a reassuring smile, but something feels a little off.
He wheels down the corridor to the usual door and the secretary leads me back towards the front desk. We usually do the paperwork after the appointment… Why does he want me to take care of it now? Is there something wrong? Does he want to talk to the doctor alone? If so, why not tell me?
JACK
“Leaving?”
I stare at the doctor calmly, answering with a simple nod.
“You’ve been here for barely six months, and your symptoms are getting worse. Are you sure it’s wise?”
“You won’t do what I want you to do. There is no point in me staying here.”
I look around the familiar office. I’ve been coming here twice every month since we moved here, if not a little more for various tests. It’s surprising how all doctors’ offices look the same. The same sterile smell but wealthy furniture. One could think that they all buy the same frames for their photos. Could also imagine that they almost have the exact same families. Or is it the picture sold with the frame? Anyway, it feels like no matter where I go and what doctor I see, it’s always the same place. Spotless. Expensive. Cold.
One of the frames is lying picture side down on the corner of his desk and my head tilts in wonder. Did he have a fight this morning with his wife and hiding her picture makes him feel a little better somehow? Maybe he’s also having an affair with his secretary and found out she’s leaving him for the guy in his waiting room…
“Mr. Willow,” the doctor sighs, “I’ve told you when you asked that it’s a long process. You are in a lot of pain, but we believe that you still have a fewyears ahead of you.”
“What is the point of a few years if I have to be high on morphine 24/7 to be able to bear the pain?” I ask quietly, returning my attention to him. “You are the doctor here. You may understand in a hypothetical way the pain I endure constantly, but you don’tknow.You don’tfeelit.”
“You’re right. Ican’tfeel it… But I do know. Unlike your sister, who is still in the dark. Why not discuss all this with her? She has the right to…”
“I won’t, and neither will you,” I interrupt coldly. “It’s bad enough that I have to watch her sacrifice her own life and happiness to help me. I won’t burden her with what I feel. What I want.”
He fumbles with his pen, eyes searching mine. I don’t turn my gaze. He won’t help me, and I won’t stand here waiting for him to change his mind.
“Mr. Wi… Jack. No matter where you go, I don’t think you’ll find someone who will go along with your decision. Steinert Disease is rare, but for now, in your situation, not life threatening.”
“Then I will keep moving until I find someone who does,Luc,” I answer through gritted teeth. “I can’t keep living like this. I don’t want to reach the point where I’ll be a burden no matter what. I want to go with as much dignity as I can.”
“You’re still young,” he says, his tone a little softer, but I shake my head. “I’m sure with the proper care you can reach thirty-five, or maybe even forty.”
“I’m thirty-one. I started showing symptoms about thirty years ago. It’s a long time to be in pain.”
“What about your sister, Jack?” My throat tightens. “Won’t she feel devastated?”
“I’m holding her back.” My hands fumble with the controls of my chair. “She might not realize, but she’ll do better when I’m gone. She’ll be sad, yes, but she’ll recover better if I go before she realizes how much pain I’m in. Because she will. Someday, all the morphine in the world won’t be enough to hide it.”
There’s a pause where I can just hear his frustrated sighs. I know he means well. I know what I’m asking is a lot and it’s not a decision easily made. But I don’t have the time to wait around. I’ll keep changing states, cities, until someone finally accepts to just end all of this.
