Jack's Story: A Short Story By Andrew Hon
Number: 00S10. Issue: Spring 2000
Author[s]:
Andrew Hon
Keywords:
Abstract:
Light lanced into Jack's eyes. He groaned and rolled over.
Eventually he mustered up enough resolve to sit up and was immediately
overcome with a coughing fit. The
bedside wastebasket beckoned. A couple
wads of phlegm later, Jack replaced the basket and reached over for his smokes.
After his
second cigarette Jack felt better.
"Honey,
I really wish you would stop smoking," Jack's wife Peggy said from the
other side of the bed.
"Yeah,
I know, I know," Jack muttered, taking another puff. It was almost a routine.
"Especially
because your appointment is today," she continued. "Don?t you think the chest pains you've
been complaining about have something to do your smoking?"
Jack
grunted noncommittally.
"Well,
I'm sure the lung specialist will have something to say about it. Come on, let?s get ready."
* * *
Dr. Lee
walked into the room with an odd look on her face. Looking first at Jack and then at his wife, she began. "Well, I have both good news and bad
news. The bad news is that,
unfortunately, the tumor is spreading.
We don?t know how it progressed as fast as it did. The good news is our hospital has access to
the latest medical technologies, so we have some options. First we will have to operate on Jack to
remove the cancer. However, due to the
cancer's advanced state, he will need additional treatment."
Jack could
not believe his ears. Lung cancer? That was something that happened in the
twentieth century! He opened his mouth
to say something, but could not as he was overcome with a sudden coughing
fit. The pack of smokes he had in his
pocket suddenly seemed to be burning a hole in his pants.
* * *
Jack awoke
to sterile fluorescent hospital lights and the steady beeping of machinery. Peggy was bent over him, an anxious look on
her face. Although he could barely
move, he could see that there were all sorts of tubes and wires attached to his
chest. His chest throbbed with hurt in
time to the beeps. Jack moaned at the
equipment and instantly regretted the effort.
"Don?t
worry honey," his wife assured him, "You'll only need that equipment
for a little longer. They removed your
lung..."
"What?"
Jack wheezed painfully, almost passing out.
"...but
the transplant should take hold very soon and then you'll be right as
rain!"
Jack opened
his mouth to respond but Peggy interrupted, kissing him on the forehead
"Oh, you poor dear. Don't try to
talk. Here, write on this."
Jack was
skeptical, scrawling on the pad of paper she gave him: "How much is this
costing us? Can we afford all
this?"
"We'll
be okay." Peggy replied.
* * *
Jack's body
rejected the artificial lung within a couple of weeks. He was operated upon once again and a
request was put in for a replacement lung through the normal channels.
Peggy was
at his side when he regained consciousness briefly one day. He thought of his friends strolling
leisurely through golf courses and on ocean cruises. Then he thought of his own painful existence, with a bloody gaping
hole in his chest and with machines keeping him alive. Machines that with his limited finances he
surely could not afford. He was too old
for this.
Jack wrote
slowly but resolutely, "Peggy, if they can?t get me a lung by the end of
this week, I want you to disconnect me," and let the darkness wash over
him.
* * *
Jack
wrestled in the park with his grandchildren, allowing the rambunctious kids to
romp over him. They tickle-fought,
laughing happily. Finally, they
collapsed, exhausted, and lay on the grass looking at the clouds. Jack pointed into the sky, identifying the
clouds for the kids. He breathed deeply
of the fresh spring air, savoring its sweetness, and let himself sink into the
warm grass under his back. Jack had
something on his mind though, and lifting his head, he saw his wife and
remembered.
Getting up
seemed to be harder than he ever thought imaginable, but somehow he had made it
up and was hugging his wife from behind.
He nuzzled her neck and let her familiar scent calm his thoughts. She turned around, smiling into his eyes,
looking as pretty as he ever imagined her to be.
"What's
the matter Jack?" she inquired.
He didn't
know how to begin. "I, um, don't
know if this was a dream, but I just wanted to say that if you remember me
scribbling something silly and stupid back in the hospital, I just wanted to
let you know that I?m glad you didn't take me seriously back then,
and..." His thoughts were tumbling
over one another, incoherent.
Peggy only
smiled at him in understanding.
Her smile
was the last thing to fade away as Jack?s world spun away into darkness.
* * *
Jack never
regained consciousness. Lung
transplants for his blood type were rare to begin with, and Jack's age put him
low on the priority list. His wait
would be indefinite. As a result, after
much deliberation and soul-searching, Peggy reluctantly decided with the doctor
to honor his DNR request, to let him go at the end of the week.
In the end,
as morphine was applied and life support removed, Jack seemed to be smiling in
his sleep.
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