Mostof you…
Some of us would not see that success. I cast my gaze around the room and caught eyes with the other patients; it was clear they were thinking what I was—out of the eight of us, some of us still might not make it. It was a sobering thought.
“I apologize if that sounds too blunt,” Dr. Duncan said. A white-hot shiver ran down my spine. Fear, I realized. As if sensing it, Jesse leaned closer, his arm touching mine, offering me comfort. The warmth immediately took the brunt of that fear away. I didn’t look at him. I wouldn’t because I knew I would break if I did, and I had to keep positive. I was determined to.
“I have autism spectrum disorder,” Dr. Duncan said, pulling focus back to him. “I have a high IQ, and I have dedicated my life to saving people. But I’m afraid I’m better with facts than pleasantries. Science is my language and my strength. People skills are not.”
I smiled as he said that. He seemed like a nice man, and I appreciated him opening himself up to us a little. After all, the entire staff here knew everything about us; it was nice to be told something personal about them too.
Dr. Duncan waited for us all to stop shifting or whispering to one another. I felt a hand take mine and looked down to see it was Emma’s. I glanced up at her and saw the same frisson of fear I was feeling reflected in her blue eyes. I squeezed her handback. We had laughed and joked yesterday when we had all been together. But the reality was, there was nothing humorous about our situation.
We were all here because we weredying. That realization was always close by to remind us why we’d been given a spot at the ranch. The past couple days of fun had been amazing and had helped us form some friendships. But playtime was over, and we were faced with reality.
“The treatment is invasive, and the medicine is strong, stronger than you will have had before. Being young helps you tolerate this treatment better than people who are older, but the side effects can potentially be many and difficult. It will be uncomfortable for most, if not all of you.” Dr. Duncan pointed at the back of the room. I hadn’t seen the nursing staff and Neenee enter, but they were standing back there. My parents had come in too, along with what seemed to be everyone else’s—except Jesse’s.
My heart fell at that.
Jesse was the only one here alone. We were being told the side effects would be awful, and he had no one here to help him through it.
“The medical staff will administer a round of chemotherapy on days one to four in your rooms which are sterile, and FDA approved. You will have four days rest after that. Then you will receive a new form of monoclonal antibodies through infusion for four days. This will be administered in your room too for about an hour each morning. After that you will be free to move about the ranch. After the first immunotherapy cycle, you will have a few days’ rest, then we will repeat the antibody treatment until phase one ends. We will review your results to see how you are responding, then phase two will begin. Adjustments to the treatment’s strength may need to be made at this point, but we will assess this on an individual basis.
“You will all be under twenty-four-hour surveillance in case you have any side effects or need urgent help. Frequent blood tests and scans will be done along the way to monitor how you are responding to treatment. Questionnaires will be given to you to fill out.” Dr. Duncan pointed down the hall. “Everything we need is on-site, and the nearest large hospital is on standby should we need it for emergencies, though we are equipped for them here too.” He gave us a tight smile. “I’ll go and set up with the nurses for the pretreatment checks and the fitting of your chemo ports. Neenee will speak to you now about what else you can expect from your time here.” He gave us a sharp nod and left the room.
Neenee took Dr. Duncan’s spot at the front of the room, and I took a deep breath. It suddenly felt like too much. Emma squeezed my hand, and I let that connection and the touch of Jesse’s arm on my own soothe my frayed nerves.
“Before we start pretreatment today, I just want to talk to you about a few things. First, alongside your treatment, you have access to Michelle.” Neenee pointed to a lady with long, blond hair and a kind smile standing on the side of the room. She waved. “Michelle is our resident therapist. She will hold some group sessions and meet with you all individually on a regular basis. Your mental health is just as important to us as your physical health.”
Neenee gestured to someone else. “This is Pastor Noel. He will be here for any of you to talk to and will also carry out services in the ranch’s chapel should you wish to attend.” Pastor Noel’s smile was warm. “Then, finally, is Mrs. Frank. She will be your educational supervisor.”
Jesse groaned loudly, breaking the tension in the room by making everyone laugh—including Mrs. Frank. “We’re here for life-saving treatment and westillhave to do math?” Jesse said but followed up his complaint with a cheeky smirk. We all knewwe would be continuing our studies. Many of us had our sights set on college or at least high school graduation. That didn’t stop because we were here.
“I believe all of you can make it through this treatment with clean bills of health,” Neenee said, conviction in her voice. “So we need you to keep living life normally.”
Chills of excitement rushed through me. I glanced behind me at my parents. They were looking at me, hopeful expressions on their faces too.
This was my—our—chance at a new start.
Neenee stepped forward and relaxed her stance. She sat down on a chair at the front of the room. “Just a few more words that are a bit off script.” I leaned closer, not wanting to miss a thing. “Rely on one another.” She pointed at the eight of us. “I have been doing this a long time, with lots of different patients of all different ages. And I have found—and so has scientific research—that if you bond with the people going through this alongside you, it can help get you through treatment and into remission quicker.”
I jumped a little when Jesse placed his hand on top of mine. I stared down at it. It was tanned and held the occasional scar, no doubt from years playing football.
I smiled to myself at the feel of his palm’s warmth on my skin. Feeling bold, I gently turned over my hand until our palms met. Clearly being the most forthcoming out of us both, Jesse curled his fingers and threaded them through mine. I inhaled. I had never held a boy’s hand before. I couldn’t stop staring at our entwined fingers.
They fit together perfectly.
“And there is a reason we fought for so long for this ranch to be approved as a hospital,” Neenee said, breaking me from staring at our hands. I looked up at her. She gestured to the floor-to-ceiling windows on one wall. “Nature is healing. Studieshave shown that those fighting cancer respond better when surrounded by nature.” The trees and foliage swayed in the light breeze outside, as if showing us their worth.
It was beautiful, serene. All I knew from hospitals were sterile white walls and antiseptic smells. I felt privileged to be at the ranch. Doing our treatment here would feel vastly different. “We also have therapy horses. Again, studies show that animals can help people heal. We are here for the trial’s drugs and new chemo treatments, but don’t underestimate how healing the people, the place, and the animals can be for you too,” Neenee said.
The fear I had been feeling was gradually trickling away. Emma’s and Jesse’s hands in mine and the trees and horses outside had given me more hope than I’d dared to let myself have before now.
“Take walks regularly; see the horses, feed them, groom them at the stables—just make sure you tell us where you are at all times so we can monitor you. Like Dr. Duncan said, the price for this new, exciting treatment is the harsh side effects. We need to be sure you are okay, twenty-four seven.” Neenee smiled, then moved toward the parents for a chat with them.
We patients were silent, reflective, until: “Jesse, bro, give me your hand.” Chris grabbed hold of Jesse’s hand and gripped it in his own. “Why am I being left out of the hand-holding train with y’all?”
I laughed along with Emma at Chris’s petulant expression.
Jesse turned to him. “Sorry, man. I just don’t feel that way toward you.”
