THE LITTLE THINGS

 

THE LITTLE THINGS

CHAPTER FOUR

Five years later

London, United Kingdom

Sheldon sat next to his sickly mother brooding, hunching over the hospital bed holding her arm tightly as if holding on to his dear life. Rose had been diagnosed with stage four cancer and was now spreading into her brain. The hospital smelled of rubber and a thick scent of sterilization liquid. 

The weather was raining outside, it was cold like his mother’s hand. Small mists formed as she breathed in and out, bandages covering her head like a solemn crown. She had gone for three surgeries now but all the more the tumor burrowed indignant and continued to grow.

“There is nothing we can do.”

“She will be dead in three weeks.”

“Pay your respects, she won’t make it.”

All the doctors said.

Sheldon’s eyes gleamed white and slippery as tears started form on the eyelids. His hair was wet filled with dew like wild flower in the morning sun. Rose’s breathing was slow and sauntered as the life support machine beeped on and off like a sign of hope thought Sheldon. 

The nurse would come in and out giving her some food, bland, thought Sheldon and also to replace her fresh blood and green fluids on the IV.

Rose’s checks had become hollow and harrowing. Her skin was pale as the moon that now glimmered into the room like sparkling star dust almost appearing translucent and leathery. 

She would not speak as tubes covered her mouth to give her fresh oxygen and all sorts of tubes would pump blood and green liquids into her veins- fragile, breakable thought Sheldon. She slept as Sheldon watched over her like an unsung guardian sentinel.

He wept.

They moved to London for a more comprehensive diagnosis. Now while in London her health seemed to deteriorate tenfold. Unable to speak and was pumped with all sorts of sedative medications. 

Sheldon, now an adult was forced to work at a nearby deli and could not afford basic food let alone the extremely high medical bills. He would sometimes sneak in the hospital cafeteria to get some food and sleep in one of the toilets to save up for the mother’s bills.

All seemed in vain as the doctors cautioned him that his mother’s health would continue to worsen if he kept on insisting on her living on the life support machine and not going to surgery as recommended by the doctors. 

There were times she would wake up and talk in some ancient language filled with confusion and disarray. Her eyes dancing on her eyelids, unfocused.

“The cancer has spread into her brain.”

“She will be dead in three weeks.”

The words from the doctors still ringed in his head like church bells announcing a funeral.

Present Day

Sheffield, United Kingdom

“Hello Sheldon. Good morning” said Margaret his therapist.

“Good morning” said Sheldon reluctantly.

He had been going for the therapy more than six months now and he was tired and exasperated. Nothing seemed to be working. All he could think about was his father David Leister who died while on tour in Iraq. His mother had found his husbands’ Swiss army knife in Sheldon’s room covered in dried blood and reported it to his therapist without him knowing.

Margaret’s bony fingers clenched her clipboard as she read wellness questions to him. All routine checks.

“How are you sleeping?”

“Are you eating well?”

“How is school?”

Sheldon answered them all non chalantly.

Her black hair seemed to hover above her head as he stared into her black obsidian eyes. Sheldon snapped out of his trance as she put the brown clip board down. She looked at him disgruntled and disappointed.

“It has come to my attention Sheldon that you are not taking your medication as prescribed” said Margaret now interlocking her fingers and resting them on her scrawny knees.

“You might-”

“I am sorry” interjected Sheldon.

“Please don’t take me away from home!” cried Sheldon.

“That is not our intention Sheldon” said Margaret assuredly.

“But you did sign a waiver with the school to keep on coming to therapy and be consistent with your medication,” said Margaret.

Sheldon looked down at the Burgundy carpet, looking at the patterns as if deciphering the secrets of the universe. Again, he snapped out of the trance by a knock on the door.

“Come in” said Margaret as her assistant whispered something to her ear.

“Unfortunately, we will not be able to continue with the session,” said Margaret.

“Please take our sessions seriously. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for your mother” she said her words heavy like a rock as he looked down again.

“Okay” said Sheldon stuttering.