"And you stood tall...now you will fall..."

Lullaby by Sia
 

Routine.

   A slow daily replay of the same existence. Wake up, yawn, stare at the ceiling for approximately two and a half minutes, roll out of bed and turn right and make eight paces straight ahead to the bathroom where I will then shower. Starting with washing my hair, neck and shoulders, torso and then everything else from the waist down, dry off in the same order. Shave; apply the scented foam on my left cheek, followed by the right. Clothes; Boxers, then socks, jeans, shoes, shirt and topped all off by my watch and thick framed glasses. And finally . . . the routine is done.

     Everything is set out day by day in the same exact pattern, never straying off course, never changing.

   That is what my life is.

   I’m not an unhappy person. I’ve no complaints in my life. The combined income of both my spouse and myself is enough to thoroughly take care of any expenses we occur. I have a job as a composer in which I love and take pride in. And though some would call our relationship dull, I am married to a good man who shares my daily routine with no complaints.

   What more to life is there?
 

  
“Jun,” Dr. Park stated as he entered the room that I had been sitting in for the last ten minutes. He wasn’t one of those mean doctors that seems heartless and doesn’t care what they tell their patients, that’s why I chose him. It was his eyes. They held emotion, compassion. And right now, those emotional eyes were glistening. “I don’t . . . want to say this.” He sat down in the chair in front of me and I knew there was something wrong. “Your blood test results have come in . . .”

   I waited for him to finish but instead was met with a kind of sadness in his aura that didn’t do much of a job at reassuring my fears of the unknown. “What’d you find?”

   “You’ve tested positive for Acute Myelogenous Leukemia.” Dr. Park spoke gently, slowly, well rehearsed. But that didn’t make his next two words any less genuine. “I’m sorry.”

   Leukemia. Acute – something – Leukemia. No .

   I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, suddenly feeling my mouth go dry, or maybe it was just in my head. “This . . . doesn’t mean I have to die from it, right?” What were these words coming from my lips? “I-I mean . . . people live a couple decades without even showing signs of leukemia and, um– and even then–it can be treated . . . right? There’s gotta be something, I’m . . . healthy and strong, right?”

   I never thought I would be sitting where I am at the age of twenty-five, stuttering for a doctor’s explanation, a way out . . . something to tell me that the scientists and medical experts that studied for years were somehow flawed, they were wrong and what was being told to me was some kind of sick mistake.

   Dr. Park sighed. “That would be true, if you had a chronic B-cell type of cancer, like CLL. Patients with Acute Myelogenous Leukemia, once the symptoms start showing, it’s . . . pretty much an uphill battle and–”

   “How long?” I didn’t mean to cut him off, but I needed to know.

   “Well, we’re gonna give you some medications and there are some treatments you can look into that will help once your symptoms start becoming more severe, but . . . you’ll start showing signs of the sickness anywhere within a couple months to a full yea–” 

   “How long do I have to live?” I repeated, lifelessly.

   The doctor reached out to give my hand an sympathetic squeeze, and for some odd and unknown reason, I found my fingers curling around his, just accepting the attempted comfort as I braced myself for whatever he would tell me. “With some cases . . . five years, if you respond well to treatments.”

   The number repeated in my mind.

   Five years, it would pass by in no time.

   It was just five years ago that I ran away with a strikingly tall younger man who offered me a stunning smirk and a seat on the back of his motorcycle. Just five years. As the time was passing, it felt like five decades but now, looking back . . . it seems more like five days.

   “Min-Jun, listen to me.” The doctors words make me look at him again, eyes clouded with a dull despair. “My advice to you, for now . . . Take some time off work, go home, enjoy some time with your husband while things are still normal for you– take a vacation, even . . . You have a tough road ahead of you . . . You need to rest before you walk it.”

   All that sounded lovely, if only.

   I nodded to my doctor and stood up, he did the same and then pulled me into a hug before I could even move. It wasn’t a half-hearted, emotionless embrace. And if not for the fact that I just found out that I’m dying, it would’ve felt nice. But at the moment, I found myself unable to even cry. What use are tears, anyways? Why waste precious time trying to rid yourself of a stuffed up nose and rubbing at burning eyes when you could just . . . not cry?

   “I just want you to know that my staff and I will to anything it takes to help you with this, and make it as easy of a transition as possible.” Dr. Park said.

   Easy? Did he actually think it might be easy? I just bowed at made my way out the door.

   On my way out, one of the nurses came up and gave me a hug. She was familiar, Dr. Park’s head nurse in the office, what was her name again? “Mr. Kim, first I’d like to say that I’m sorry, for your current situation . . . I just want you to know that Dr. Park and I will do everything in our power to help you in this.” I let out a breathy chuckle, a humorless response to the irony and then looked down as she placed a thick packet of brochures and stapled papers in my hands. “Just some info that you’ll need to know about your condition . . . Try and relax, Mr. Kim. And don’t be afraid to call us any time.”

   “Thanks.” I whispered before finally breaking away and leaving out the front doors to the office that felt so crowded and thick.

   The fresh air hit my face and I closed my eyes, savoring the smell, the taste, the feel of wind on my cheeks and I realized that in the past few years, I’d completely forgotten how beautiful everything was. I sighed as I opened my eyes, fishing my car keys out of my pocket and leaving, but I didn’t go home.

   No, I didn’t make my way home until some hours later, after a concrened call from my husband. Dread cast over me the entire drive back to our house. How would I tell him? Surely I couldn’t just waltz in the door with a ‘Hi, honey~ How was your day? Mine was adventurous . . . I found out that I have terminal Leukemia~’ No. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do that to him.

   I hadn’t fully realized that I was sitting in my driveway until a tap on the window scared the hell out of what little life was left in me. I looked over and then rolled down the window when I saw my husband looking at me with a pair of questioning eyes. “Taecyeon-ah~” I smiled at him.

   “You should come inside . . . I made dinner already.” He said and then returned a smile before heading back in the house. I watched his retreating figure and then looked over at the passenger’s seat, where the packet of medical information was lying open. A sigh of relief crashed over me that he hadn’t noticed it and then I quickly hid the folder under the seat before going inside.

   The smell of fresh ddeokbokki filled my nose as I stepped through the door. Taec looked up at me as I entered the kitchen, he had a mouth full of half cooked food. “I was too hungry to wait for you to get home so I started cooking . . .” He informed me as he stirred the simmering pan of rice cakes. There’s so many things that I’d forgotten, like how great of a cook Taecyeon always was. Since I got home from work before him, I would usually try my hand in the kitchen, which resulted in us getting take out more often. I smiled, watching the tall and bulky frame move around the kitchen until the food was ready. “Min–” Taecyeon started to call, but realized I was still standing there. “Food’s ready~”

   “Thank you.” Sadly, I wasn’t hungry. But I grabbed a small serving of food anyway, watching my husband take his dinner to the living room, where he would sit down on the far left side, finish his dinner, put his feet up and eventually fall asleep around nine o’clock or so . . . Just as he did every weeknight.

   It was routine.

   After watching my food get cold, I finally decided to take a few bites before cleaning the dishes and turning in for the night. By the time I was out of the shower and climbing into bed, I could hear the television going quietly from the living room, curling up in the queen sized bed and closing my eyes. Just like any other night.



My eyes flew open and my heart raced as I looked through the darkness. I reached over to pull the clock on the nightstand closer, squinting through my blurry eyes to see that it was only two in the morning. I ran a hand over my face and sighed, pulling a pillow over my head.

   It had been two weeks.

   And the dreams hadn’t stopped.

   At first I would dream of happiness. My teen years that seemed so long ago; high school, parties, friends. And then I dreamed of the years immediately following, my will to be a musician and how I would glide freely though life . . . how I met Taecyeon, all the things we used to do, the goals we made and smiles we shared, together. Always together.

   Those dreams were the worst.

   Because they would inevitably end, just like everything in life.

   I could hear the sound of the television running in the living room, even though my pillow and the closed door. And something sparked. I lifted the pillow away from my face and looked at the empty spot in the bed next to me, debating sleepily before biting my lip and sliding out of bed.

   The house was dark, but I knew it well enough to navigate. And when I got to the end of the hallway, I stopped to take in the sight before me. Taecyeon was sprawled out on the couch, sleeping with his mouth open and the television remote in his hand. Many spouses would have rolled their eyes, but I honestly thought it was comical, that’s why I never bothered him about it. Until tonight.

   I walked over and shut the TV off, leaning over the edge of the couch. “Taecyeon-ah~” I prodded gently at his shoulder and then running my fingers through his hair. It had gotten so long lately. “Taec, wake up.”

   When his almond eyes blinked and squinted at me, I smiled, reaching over the coffee table and putting his glasses on for him. “Yah, Junnie. . .” He asked through a yawn as he sat up.

   “Come to bed with me.”

   Taecyeon raised an eyebrow. “Are you okay?” His voice was groggy and deep, and I smiled more.

   “Yeah, just . . . come to bed.” I tugged at his arm. “It’s more comfortable.” Surprisingly, he got up with no complaints and then went to turn the television off, realizing that I had already done it and then he hugged my waist. What a feeling, so much better than cold nostalgia.

   We lay down together, his arms around my waist and my back to his chest, and I closed my eyes at the missed warmth. Another forgotten treasure of my life. Just as I was drifting off to the place that was sleep, Taecyeon’s subtle voice whispered against my jaw. “Do you remember that time we went camping?” My mind flashed with memories from a couple years ago. “It got so cold and you used your super survival one-oh-one and we huddled up in the sleeping bags?” I could hear the smirk in his voice and I nodded, knowing he could feel the movement. “We’ll never go camping so early in the spring again, right?” He whispered through another yawn.

   A tear ran down my face, soaking into the pillow where he couldn’t see, as I remembered it all vividly.