Sleep evaded JC that night. Worries and fears bombarded his mind from all directions. With every grunt and flop on the mattress, the thoughts only got worse. Around five a.m., he surrendered and processed his feelings about the upcoming surgery.
Cancer. The word sounded so cold and harsh. He’d known others with the disease, even lost two of his grandparents in his lifetime. Yet he still had trouble wrapping his mind around his condition. This didn’t happen to young, fit, active people like him, did it? Sure, maybe to men who smoked and drank alcoholic levels of illegal beverages and who were at least 20, 30 years older. But cancer didn’t give a damn. It didn’t give a damn who JC was, that he had been healthy all his life or that he could do backflips across the stage night after night. It’s a cruel and harsh reality and the sooner JC accepted that, the sooner he could heal.
The road ahead of him would be long and daunting. Even if the surgery was successful, there was no guarantee the disease was completely gone. He was scared of chemotherapy. Through research he’d found out the treatment could make you just as if not even more sick than the original offender. Needles will be a daily occurrence. Maybe the exposure will desensitize me. I highly doubt it. I’ve hated needles since I can remember. And even chemo wasn’t set in stone to work. Still, he had to try. The past few days reminded him that, in fact, he did have people in his corner that would miss him if he died. And he couldn’t stand the thought of hurting them.
What’s going to happen to my voice? I can’t bear not being able to sing. I’ve been singing since I was a kid. He used to hum melodies under his breath while daydreaming. Karen tried to get him to sing at family functions, but he wasn’t ready. He liked those intimate moments, just him and his voice. And that carried over into adulthood. He enjoyed getting to know a song’s intricacies privately before sharing it with the world. Tunes sometimes stayed in his head for days before he wrote them down. His voice was an integral part of writing songs, which in turn carried him through difficult phases. He had no idea how he was going to cope with this new challenge.
A knock came at his door around 6:30. “Josh, are you awake?” It was Roy.
“Yeah, Dad. Come in.” He replied.
Roy gently opened and closed the entrance. “How did you sleep?”
“I didn’t.” JC groaned. “My brain wouldn’t shut up.”
“I don’t think your mother did, either. I heard her wake several times through the night.”
The younger man scooted up in bed as his dad sat down. “How are you this morning? You don’t need to pretend.”
“Exhausted and scared. I don’t know how to do this, Dad. I don’t know how to be a cancer patient.”
“No one does until you don’t have any other choice. It blindsided me when Dad got sick, too. But we had to face each day as it came.”
JC’s grandfather died of cancer when he was in his early twenties. He’d lived a healthful life beforehand: ran competitively, ate reasonably, and didn’t smoke or drink.
“It can happen to anyone. We can ask ourselves why this, why that, but it’s not going to get us anywhere.” Roy said.
JC snorted. “You make it sound so easy, Dad. This could rob me of something I’ve had my whole life.
“You don’t know that. Trust God that He gave the doctors the knowledge to treat you to the best of their ability. They will do all they can to help you. Maybe God’s trying to tell you something with this.”
“I have no idea what. Am I not allowed to be scared?”
Roy shook his head. “I didn’t say that, son. I’d be worried if you weren’t scared. It’s okay to share thoughts like this with me. However, I’m also trying to give you thoughts to comfort that fear. You’re in good hands. You have a support system and don’t be afraid to use it. We’re going to help you through this.”
“I’m so scared of the operation going wrong. That they might accidentally hit my chords while trying to get the tumor out. What if the chemo doesn’t work?”
Roy sighed. “Chemotherapy is a brutal treatment. I watched your grandfather go through it. But you can make it. Lots of people do.”
JC wasn’t around when his grandfather was ill. NSYNC was touring over in Europe at the time and it was like pulling teeth to get a few days off to go back to Maryland for the funeral. “Maybe I’d feel more ready for this if I’d seen Grandad sick.”
“No, it’s better you didn’t. It’s Hell seeing someone you love go through that. You have plenty of good memories with him. And what happened to him may not happen to you. Every case is different.”
“I hate that I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. That I don’t know what to expect.” He sighed, feeling another coughing fit coming on.
Roy smiled sadly. “It would make this seem a lot less daunting, wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah,” He coughed. “But I have to try. I have to fight. You guys have reminded me that I’m worth it and have something to live for.”
“Of course you are, Josh. Don’t let idiots like Eric make you think differently.”
JC rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to get started with him right now.”
“Don’t. All you have to worry about is getting better.”
JC smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Anytime. Care to give your old man a hug?”
They both chuckled. “Of course. Heaven forbid I want to do something not masculine like hugging.” He replied sarcastically.
The duo hugged. “I love you, son.”
Warmth ran through his body. He and Roy didn’t say those words often, but he knew it was heartfelt. “I love you, Dad.”
They broke away. “Are you going to get ready?”
“Yeah. I need to get a shower because I’ll be too tired to move after surgery. Not to mention staying overnight afterwards.”
“We better get going; you have to be at the hospital at 8.”
“Don’t remind me. Let me have a moment’s peace before the storm.”
Roy nodded. “I completely understand.”
A moment later, JC let the water run to heat up as he stripped layers one by one. This would be his last moments before he officially came became a cancer patient. He didn’t to start, but at the same time, he was tired of dwelling on the fear. Now was time to be proactive. He was going to try to get better. He had to try. He moaned in pleasure as the warm water hit his skin. For now, at least, the worries could wash down the drain.
Tension echoed in the deafening silence as the Chasez family went through the motions. When JC arrived downstairs, everyone was picking at cinnamon rolls and sipping their coffee of choice. JC wasn’t allowed to consume anything. Even if he could, the nausea overwhelmed him and he knew he wouldn’t have been able to keep a morsel down. No one spoke on the car ride over, either. Trivial talk seemed inappropriate in this context.
The hospital had a room ready for him when he arrived. The nurse, Wendy, instructed him to put on a hospital gown. He was allowed to keep his boxers on. Once alone, JC shook his head at the garment. I haven’t seen one of these since NSYNC filmed I Drive Myself Crazy back in the day. I see the designs haven’t changed. The gown was a muted blue with little circles all over and dinky ties in the back. I suppose it’s better than that elephant patterned one I wore. They’d filmed the video in a closed mental hospital. He was a little uneasy at first; the place had a cold and haunting aura about it. But as time went on, he eased into the character for the video. Hopefully my depression isn’t so bad that I’ll have to admit myself for real during treatment. He sighed. As much as he wanted to say that struggle could wait, it couldn’t. Cancer and depression coincided with one another. How one battle was going determined the other’s fate. He dressed and lay down on the rickety bed.
Wendy came back with a shiny chrome needle attached to a tube. It was his IV. Calm down, it’ll be only one pinch.
JC cringed. “Oh, I hate those.”
She nodded sympathetically. “I understand. Even though I prick patients all the time, I hate getting them myself.”
Wow, even a nurse doesn’t like them and she works with them daily. He smiled. “Really? You don’t get desensitized?”
Wendy started attaching the tube to the machine. “Not really. See, I’m giving them to other people, not myself. So I’m not the one feeling it. I still hate it, even though I’ve been a nurse 15 years.”
“Maybe it won’t hurt so much with having you as my nurse,” he winked.
The woman blushed. “You’re a charmer, aren’t you?”
JC shrugged. “Well, every girl under 20 thought so about 15 years ago.”
“Oh! I didn’t realize who you were until you said that. I missed that phase. I’d graduated college by then and started a family.”
“Yeah, it was nuts. But a lot of fun, too.”
“Relax your right hand. Now, hold still. It’ll be over before you know it.”
JC took a deep breath and relaxed. The pinch came and went within a matter of seconds. Wendy taped down his IV to his hand.
“Okay. Dr. Franklin and Dr. Burgess, the anesthesiologist, will be here in a moment for a final briefing. Your family will also come back here, so they can ask any last questions before the surgery. Then, you’ll get the anesthesia and we’ll be ready to go.”
JC nodded. I’m about to go under the knife. This is really happening. The reality was ingrained now. And it made him nauseous once again. He started coughing.
The coughing subsided a few moments later. Karen arrived first and immediately rushed to her son’s side. She held his hand as he fought through the episode. He breathed heavily, attempting to relax.
“Oh, honey,” she said.
“Is anyone else here?” He whispered.
“Your dad, Heather and Tyler will be here in a second. Your NSYNC friends are out in the waiting room as well, along with your uncle and aunt and Matt.”
JC’s jaw dropped. Coming over to the house was one thing, but coming to the hospital at eight a.m. to waiting for him to get out of surgery? He was flabbergasted. “All of them?”
“All four,” she replied as the rest of the family arrived.
Dr. Franklin and Dr. Burgess followed a moment later. “How are you doing, JC?” Gavin asked.
JC waved his hand slightly. “I’m just ready to get this over with.”
Dr. Franklin nodded. “I don’t blame you. I’ll cut off the lesion in surgery today. The wound will stay open because sewing it shut could possible damage your cords further. Therefore, strict vocal rest follows. No sounds whatsoever for the first two days. The cut will need to heal. I’ll refer you to a voice therapist so you can learn how to talk without damaging it. Also, you’ll come back to my office a week from now to talk about how this goes and where we go from there.”
Yikes, that sounds like bundles of fun. Sounds good.” JC said.
“I’ll give you general anesthesia, so you won’t feel any of that.” Dr. Burgess chimed in.
“Oh, good. That endoscopy was scary enough.”
“I’ll start putting the medicine in the IV; you’ll have a few minutes with your family before it takes effect.” Dr. Burgess said.
Roy was the first to approach him. “You’re so brave for doing this, Josh. You’ll be okay.”
“Love you, Dad. So glad you’re here.”
“Anytime.” Roy squeezed his hand reassuringly.
Karen was next. He saw tears brimming in her eyes. JC’s heart sunk; he was the reason for her tears and he hated that fact. “I’ll be okay, Mom. Don’t worry about me.”
“That’s what mothers do, honey.” She kissed his forehead. “I love you so much.”
Heather simply hugged him and kisses his cheek. Tyler hugged his older brother and role model into a bear hug. “Love you, bro.” the younger Chasez whispered.
Just like he and Roy, JC didn’t say those three words out loud to Tyler often. It was more of an unspoken fact. Yet it was still heartfelt when spoken. “Love you, Ty.”
They let go. Wendy asked the Chasezes to leave so they could finish prepping JC for surgery. He felt light headed; the anesthesia must have been working.
“How are you feeling?” Wendy asked.
“Dizzy and sleepy. Is that normal?”
She nodded. “Oh, yes. You’ll be out before you know it. Most patients tell me they don’t notice the transition.”
And just like that, JC was transported into dreamland.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Story is fiction. Original characters are mine.
I hope you all like this chapter. Certain parts of this installment were theraputic to me. It was like the character was talking to me instead of the story!
Story Tags: postsync jc cancer tearjerker
