Chapter 3 Chapter two

After that, the effeminate designer and Frank hit the ground running without letting up.We moved in a few weeks later, Frank told me proudly, that in addition to the newspaper, the ad agency responsible for the three international magazines, Monument Magazine, two design groups (including a Danish company with a hot .After hearing that I kept my mouth shut about the budget overrun, the money was spent anyway) and landed a new client.It turns out that owning a company of your own is easier than imagined. "Hi!" I greeted everyone when I entered.Everyone is here.I went to the coffee maker in the kitchenette first, out of sight of everyone.An open office has this shortcoming. Everyone can see clearly what you do.The coffee machine was purchased by Frank, so coffee is a reasonable expense.It usually takes about half a minute after the button is pressed for the coffee to fill the cup.Today, I feel that time is flying fast, and I will be fine all at once, so I am not in a hurry to go out, and I want to calm down.I mustered all my courage and walked past Mulder's office, avoiding her gaze.

Frank looked at me questioningly as I sat down. "Well—she's in the hospital." I tried to be as vague as possible.Mulder came in too, and I felt the other guys staring. "Okay. Let's see what happens, shall we?" I said, turning on the computer.I could hardly hold back the tears.Mulder put his hand on my shoulder, and I put my hand on hers, and looked out the window.How nice it would be if I were a child.That way I can convince myself that all suffering is over if you don't talk about it. a man meets a woman they fell in love should have been easy it should be simple

But there's a commotion all around The next journey also began to be rough Bruce Springsteen, from Tunnel of Love (Tunnel of Love, 1992) I got a call from Carmen at 5:00 p.m. as I was driving to daycare.You don't even need to ask how she is, you can hear it in her voice. "The doctor just left--it's terrible, Dan." "I'm already on my way, I'll pick up Luna, and then I'll go to your place." I dare not ask anything else. I walked down the hallway of the oncology department with Luna in my arms, my heart pounding.I went into the room I left Carmen in the morning, and she changed and sat on the bed, clutching a crumpled tissue, staring out the window.Her eyes were red and swollen, and she had two equally crumpled tissues by her side.She saw us coming in and put her hands over her mouth.Without saying a word, I ran over and hugged her.She put her head on my shoulder and couldn't help crying anymore.I still don't have the courage to ask anything else, I can't ask anything, I can't say anything.Luna has not made a sound since we entered this ward.

Carmen kissed Luna and forced a smile. "Hi baby," she said, stroking Luna's head. I cleared my throat. "Tell me," I said.After all, it has to be faced. "Cancer, a serious one. Spread, they say. It's not a lump, it's an inflammation that has spread throughout the breast." boom! "Are they sure?" I squeezed out the words. She nodded, sobbing, and blew her nose on the impossibly wet toilet paper. "Mastitis—" I nodded, as if I understood—"Dr. Walters said you could go to him if you wanted. He's a few rooms back."

Walters, the name, we kept quiet about it all week.Regarding Thomas, Anne and Carmen's mother's question six months ago, asking if he made a serious mistake, our conclusion is that cancer cells may have existed at that time, and the current situation was caused by misdiagnosis and not being detected .That said, I risk losing Carmen to a damned misdiagnosis.Walters sat behind the desk, had met six months earlier, and I recognized him immediately.But he doesn't recognize me.I knocked on his open door. "Hello?" he said, frowning. "Hi." I said badly so he wouldn't forget it was all his fault. "I'm Carmen Van Dienpin's husband."

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Van Di Ampen, hello," Walters said, standing up to shake my hand. "Please sit down." "Just stand there, my wife is waiting for me." "Okay. I assume you're here to ask about the biopsy results." Am I here to ask about the results of the NAC vs. Ajax match, please! "yes." "Well, it doesn't look very good." "No. I know that." There was sarcasm in my tone that he probably didn't even notice. "Can you explain to me exactly what the problem is?" Walters told me why it was so bad this time, and I only heard half of what he said, and even less of it.I asked what was the degree of diagnosis.

"It's pretty much definitive - but we still have to check, it looks like inflammatory breast cancer. There's only so much we can do at the moment." I nodded and Walters shook my hand. "Now, be brave, both of you, and go to Dr. Shetma tomorrow. She's a physician and can tell you everything that's going to happen. Will you?" I nod again.I didn't hit him.More importantly, I didn't say anything.No.I kept my mouth shut.If the client tries to interfere with my strategy, I cut him off and now this bastard has messed up our lives with a mistake six months ago and I'm acting like a first-timer from Limburg player of.

When I got back to my room, Carmen held Luna on her lap and looked out at the empty hospital parking lot. "Can you go back with me, or is there something else going on here?" I asked. "I think it's all right," said Carmen.She turned her head to look for her black bag.I walked quietly to the table, covered by her coat, and I helped her put it on, which I never usually do.But I do it now because I find it's the only thing I can do to help her at the moment. "Not too far back," Carmen said as I spread my coat over her back. "I can't put my arms too far back because the breast wound hurts."

"Oh, sorry. Come on, Luna, let's go home," I said, picking her up from the bed.She remained unusually calm. Carmen stuck her head into the nurse's room and said, "Bye!" The morning nurse quickly put her steaming food dish aside, stood up from her chair, and grabbed Carmen's hand with both hands, hoping to give us strength. "Can you do it tonight?" "Sure." I said firmly, and nodded to her to reassure her. The three of us walked to the elevator without saying a word. the reality is cruel i have seen enough Please turn off the lights and lock the door to protect me

Bruce Springsteen, from Cover Me (Born in the USA, 1985) I called Frank when I got home and told him Carmen had breast cancer. "Oh my God." He yelled over the phone. Carmen calls Annie and tells her what happened.Within an hour, Anne and Thomas were standing at our door.Annie hugged me tightly when I opened the door, and then ran into the living room without taking off her coat and hugged Carmen tightly.Carmen immediately burst into tears. Thomas gave me an awkward hug too. "It's awful, man," he murmured.He ran in, barely daring to look at Carmen, just stood there, staring at the floor, shoulders slumped, hands in pockets.

He was also wearing a suit and tie. Thomas is also from Bredalud and I have known him since elementary school. "We like the same music, we like the same clothes, we like the same bands," Bruce sings.That's exactly what happened to me and Thomas.When we were twelve we went to see NAC together, when we were sixteen we went to see punk bands together in Paradiso, when we were eighteen we went to Di Sukojiste in Breda to have fun on Saturday nights, Thomas was there Very popular, I had acne and thick glasses and had to pick Thomas' leftovers. After secondary school we both went to the business school in Amsterdam, which is where we met Frank.Thomas struggled to get his degree.Thomas wasn't very bright before, and he isn't now.After graduation, he worked as a sales representative of a company, selling salt sprinkled on the road (because of the snow in winter in Europe, the government sprinkles salt on the road before snow to prevent vehicles from skidding).His customers are council officials or water boards.Thomas was close friends with them, and I think it was because Thomas, like them, liked to laugh at jokes about Belgians, blacks, and blond women who went to the doctor, and because he also wore a German brand of pastel button-down jackets. shirt.Thomas and I talk on the phone a lot, and we don't see each other as often as we used to.Apart from the carnival in Breda, he didn't like to go out to drink and revel.On weekends he prefers to stay at home, eating delicious cheese, drinking wine, watching movies full of guns, beautiful women and helicopters.His less interest in binge drinking has something to do with the fact that he started balding a few years ago, and his stomach has started to grow in size. "Damn it, Danny, we age at different rates - I'm like milk, it gets sour the longer you let it sit, but you're like red wine, it gets better with age." A big reduction has become a set trend.Thomas was a pragmatist by nature, and he took action.Six years ago, he invited a cute young intern to dinner when she hopped into their company's office, and he never let go since then. That intern is Annie.Thomas and Anne were a match made in heaven.Anne is the standard urban chic, but also very fond of children, cheese and wine, and like Thomas, she looks like she is always pregnant.After the birth of their children Kimberly (4), Lindsay (3) and Danny (1), Annie put family above everything else.She used to love to dress herself up very much, but now she only wears cheap T-shirts.Carmen said that Anne has become like a yellow-faced woman now, but Anne doesn't know it.Carmen never hurt Anne.Because of this, Anne became Carmen's best friend.They talked on the phone every day, and when Carmen was terrified of her biopsy six months ago, Annie had barely left our house.Annie was always there when I came home from get off work every day, which drove me almost crazy, but I must admit that Anne understood what friendship meant.Carmen and Anne are closer now than I am to Tomas, Carmen has nothing to say to Annie, I have stopped talking to Thomas, at least since I found out he tells me everything I do (everything he wants to do) After Annie.Anne would always tell Carmen that this is something I don't like to see. Although the two of them must be honest and honest with each other, sometimes Anne will add fuel to the story, so when the words reach Carmen, simple things will become complicated. Anne was very sensible and suggested that we write down all the questions we wanted to ask the doctor tomorrow.this is a good idea.We are really in a mess today, and our heads are in a mess.The four of us discussed a lot of questions we wanted to ask, and I wrote them down on paper one by one. This is very useful.We have temporarily made cancer a neutral thing that can be analyzed critically, almost objectively.Carmen's mood also calmed down. Thomas and Anne left at half past nine.I called Frank and Carmen went online.When I hung up, she asked me if I remembered the English name for her type of breast cancer. "Walters didn't tell me. But he told me the Latin name mastitis carcinomanosomethingorother—" "Carcinomatosa, that's it." She looked at the screen—"Inflammatory breast cancer—that's the kind of cancer that—if it's too late—goes into blood cells. That's the way it is, isn't it?" "Well—I suppose so, yes," I replied cautiously. "That would be terrible, because it would mean—"—her voice changed—"that my chances of living another five years are less than forty per cent." forty percent. "How can you be so sure it's the same kind?" I asked angrily. "Are you sure you read it right?" "Yeah, I'm not a fool, Dan!" she growled. "Here it is! Isn't it?" Instead of looking at the screen, I pressed the computer's shutdown button. "Okay, it's time to sleep." She looked at the black screen in bewilderment, then at me with a lifeless expression, and then she started sobbing like hell. "God, if that bastard found out six months ago, maybe it wouldn't be too late!" I supported Carmen and led her upstairs to her room. She cried for a while, seemingly endlessly, and finally she fell asleep in my arms.I don't feel sleepy at all and don't know if I can face it tomorrow and wake up tomorrow and realize it wasn't a dream but the truth. Carmen has cancer. It's raining hard i can't bear it Bl f, from Harder dan ik hebben kan (Boven, 1999) Dr. Shetema shook our hands, motioned us to sit down, and sat behind his desk. She began to look at Carmen's medical records in a brown folder. I glanced at it. It was the one that the nurse took the day before yesterday. It contained X-rays (it was Carmen's), and I saw a handwritten report. (Written by Dr. Walters?) and a hand-drawn diagram of a breast with a small arrow pointing to a piece of illegible text.Dr. Shetema looked at the material as if we were not there, and her office was eerily silent. Dr. Shetema has a good-humored look—gray hair, a breast pocket full of pens, and a Frankenstein-like face.But in fact, she is not what you see.The look on her face the first time I walked into her office wearing my tan leather jacket from the '70s told me—I just don't get along. I gripped Carmen's hand tightly.After half a minute, Dr. Shetma still didn't speak. He continued to read the material, turned a page, then turned it back, and then turned it again. Carmen blinked at me and made a Mr. Bean-like dozing motion.I looked away from Carmen, trying not to laugh because I had a strange feeling that this wasn't going to bring me closer to the doctor.I looked around the office again and there was a framed Imagist painting on the wall behind the desk (don't ask me who painted it, I'm from Bredalud and I'm pretty sure it's an Impressionist painting), the door There is a small shelf on the nearby wall, and there are many booklets in it, "Cancer Diet Guide", "Cancer and Sex", "Overcoming Cancer Pain", and I also saw the familiar blue booklet, "Knowing Breast Cancer" . Dr. Shetema finally looked up from the chart. "How's it going these days?" she began to ask. "Not very good." Carmen adopted this understatement. "Yes, I can imagine," said the doctor. "It was so bad last time, it was, uh—careless." "Yes, because it's too late now, isn't it?" Carmen whined in a low voice. "Listen, you can't think like that," Shetma said. "We still have a lot of things we can try. There's no point looking back now, we're going to see what else we can do." I was stunned by her done-for-all attitude towards colleagues' mistakes, and I glanced at Carmen, whose expression was docile, but I didn't say anything. "I have 'inflammatory breast cancer,' right?" Carmen asked. "The official name is mastitis carcinomaatosa, but you're right, inflammatory—well, how did you know that?" "I checked it online yesterday." "Oh, then, be more cautious about things on the Internet." Shetma's tone was displeased. Of course it will, I think, because you don't like it.I snicker, I'm not the same as I was yesterday when Carmen was pissed off when she browsed through dozens of websites about every possible breast cancer and thought it was terrible, and now I'm proud of her because she already knows enough Many, many make the doctor feel uncomfortable. "Is it true that only 40 percent of women diagnosed with this cancer live past five years?" Carmen continued. "I'm afraid it's less." Xietema said coldly, obviously wanting to stop Carmen once and then go to such a website, "Because you are still young, which means that the speed of cell division is faster than that of older people. You The lump in the left breast is already 13€? cm, and it may grow very fast within a few months." 13 €? cm?About the size of an eggplant!And grow within a few months?Oh, yes, it should be later, otherwise even Dr. Walters would never turn a blind eye to such a big thing. "Can it be removed?" Carmen asked. "I can live without breasts if I have to, you know." I can't believe my ears.Carmen can say such words without fear. Shetma shook her head. "It's difficult to operate at this time," she said. "The tumor is so big. We can't see exactly where the cells have spread. If we do remove it, there is a risk that the tumor may enter the wound tissue where the breast was removed. , it would be worse. We are unlikely to operate until we are sure that the tumor in the breast has shrunk." She said it as if we should be happy about it. "Another thing we sometimes use to fight tumors is hormone therapy—"—yes, hormone therapy!I remember seeing it in a brochure-"But this method doesn't work either. We have found through your blood that you are negative for estrogen receptors. Hormones don't work on tumor cells, but they are the most annoying The problem is, the biopsy showed—"—okay, go ahead—"the tumor was diffuse, which means it might have spread into the blood vessels, you know, um—" No, I don't know, because I was an art major in school, and it might sound ridiculous, but until recently I never thought about cancer, not once.Because Carmen also had a look of incomprehension on her face, Shetema continued to explain, like an announcer on a children's TV show explaining why adults start wars. "Look, it's like this. Blood cells go to the whole body, which means that cancer cells also go to the whole body. The tumor markers in your blood haven't reached the warning level, but it's still possible that the cancer cells have spread throughout your body. .” Carmen and I looked at each other for a long time without speaking.I rub my thumb against her hand.Shetma fell silent too, and after a while she broke it. "If you let it go now, I'm afraid you only have a few months left, a year at most." This sentence was nothing more than a logical consequence of all that information just now, but it still felt like a bolt from the blue to us.Finally said it.That's it.A woman goes to the doctor who tells her she has only a few months to live.Carmen began to shake, put her hands over her mouth, and began to cry, her shoulders shaking.Heartbroken, I hugged her with one hand and held her hand tightly with the other. "It's a blow, isn't it?" Shetma said insightfully.We didn't answer, the two hugged each other wordlessly, Carmen kept crying, and I was already in a daze. "What now?" I asked after a while. “I recommend starting chemotherapy as soon as possible,” Shetema continued the conversation, visibly relieved by the return to her area of ​​expertise. “This week, if possible.” chemotherapy.It took a few minutes before I felt better.chemotherapy.I've seen it in brochures: balding.Seen: terminally ill.Seen: We all know chemotherapy won't do anything, but we have to do something about it. Shetema went on to say, "Chemotherapy actually affects the whole body, so it has the best chance of fighting the cancer." "What about radiation therapy?" I asked.Carmen looked up now too.Yes, radiation therapy, they are also commonly used, I see her hopeful.For some reason radiation doesn't sound as bad as chemotherapy. Shetma shook her head.stupid question. "Radiotherapy is only effective locally. If it is only on the breast, it can be used. But now we want to eliminate cancer cells from the whole body, so chemotherapy is the best way." She said, obviously she was annoyed, because just now she It has been explained. "Can you explain more about chemotherapy?" I heard myself asking, as if I were asking about the satellite navigation system in the new Audi A4. Shetma looked up, she looked like a child glad to be asked to talk about her favorite game.We had a crash course in chemotherapy.The principle is very simple. Chemotherapy inflicts heavy trauma on the human body, with the purpose of inflicting more severe trauma on cancer cells.The cancer cells lose their support and scurry in all directions, like a football team without a midfielder.They can even grow through bones, Shetma said, admiringly, with an excess of enthusiasm that made her out of proportion.But they are also more susceptible than healthy cells in the body for the same reason.Unfortunately, all healthy cells that divide rapidly are also destroyed. "For example, your hair, Mrs. Fan Di Anpan, you will lose your hair." Shetma is now back at her best, "I think a course in CAF therapy is the best option for you. CAF, that's cyclophosphamide, doxorubicin, and fluorouracil—"—we nod like we know What was she saying—“There is another medicine for the nausea and vomiting caused by chemotherapy—”—we nodded again—“Even so, some people still vomit badly, but there are medicines To combat this, take pills after each chemo session if necessary" - we gradually enter a kind of trance-" - so most people generally eat less, of course nausea plus Lack of appetite will discourage you from eating - and possibly diarrhea, if it persists for more than two days you must contact us -" - as if she were talking about a leaking washing machine - "the oral mucosa may also be inflamed , menstruation may become irregular, or stop altogether. Finally, care must be taken not to have a fever. In case of fever, you must call us, even in the middle of the night." I don't want to hear it anymore, I don't want to hear anything.Carmen went numb at the words "hair" and "hair loss."But Shetma went on with hers. "By the way, it's also possible that CAF therapy doesn't work on the cancer cells in your body, but the chances are only 25 percent." "then what should we do?" "In that case we would try other treatments." "Oh." "But our treatments are not based on assumptions." "Won't." "I have one more thing to tell you," she said, taking a yellow booklet from a desk drawer. "If you want, you can see the psychiatrist at San Lucas Hospital, who specializes in cancer patients." Carmen glanced at the booklet for a moment and said, yes, we might go.And it's the top priority.If we welcome cancer into our lives, let's do it thoroughly. I looked at the list of questions I had prepared in advance, and Shetma saw it and glanced at her watch.I see another question, this one doesn't lighten the mood here. "Wouldn't it be better for my wife to go to Anthony Van Ravenhoek Hospital? Isn't there a cancer treatment there?" "It's funny, we discuss the condition of all patients with Anthony Van Ravenhoek Hospital. We discuss it once a week, and all medical records will be discussed together." Dr. Shetema said excitedly. I looked at Carmen, and she nodded hurriedly, saying yes, she didn't want to conflict with the doctor who was about to treat her. Deciding not to continue with this question, I looked at the list of questions again and saw a good question this time. "One last question. Isn't America a bit more advanced than Europe in treating cancer?" Shetma looked at me as if I were a student at school who dared to look up at the teacher's skirt. "I'm sorry, um—I don't doubt your professional level," I added immediately,—of course I doubt it, but I don't want to say it, lest I be thrown out of the classroom—"It's for my wife's sake, can you Do you understand?" Shetma didn't understand me at all and she was genuinely irritated, as could be seen on her face.She sighed, her voice becoming icy. "We read everything we can about cancer, we read all the medical research that's been published, Mr Van Di Ampen, if something is found in Chicago or Los Angeles, we'll know it the same day. Since the Internet, all information is completely It's public. Everyone can see it, your wife has figured it out—" Oh, how I hated her sarcastic tone, the arrogance Shetma displayed, especially since she already knew about the "too careless" mistakes of her colleagues in the same hospital. "Anything else?" Yes, there are three slices of roast beef, stinky three eights. I look at Carmen and she's shaking her head.She wants to get out of here.Issues that seemed relevant yesterday only prolong our boring time in the hospital. "No more, that's all." I said. We stood up and put on our jackets. "I'll do it if you want to let me know if you want to start chemotherapy," Dr. Shetema said, shaking Carmen's hand, and she was amiable at the time. "Yes—well, we'll call you tomorrow." "Good-bye, then," she said, her voice cold again.She actually shook my hand too. "Thanks. Goodbye," I said. I hold Carmen's hand and walk down the corridor, not daring to look directly at the other waiting patients.It felt like everyone was watching us, it was like walking across a platform with a beautiful woman whose skirt was too short - you knew everyone was watching but you had to act like you didn't care.Carmen didn't wear a skirt that was too short today, but her eyes were red and she still had a handkerchief in her hand.I put my arms around her and stared down the corridor.People must be nudging the people next to them, nodding in our direction, talking in low voices.Oh my gosh, that woman, so young and so pretty.She must have just heard that she had cancer.Look at the boy next to her, how sad he is.I could feel their sympathy, their emotional longing.Fortunately, Luna is not here today, otherwise this scene will make them feel more sympathetic. I don't believe in miracles but for you i believe darling for you i hope for a miracle Bruce Springsteen, from Countin On a Miracle (The Rising, 2002) Carmen was reading from the pamphlet given to us by Dr. Shetma, a psychotherapist who uses the Karl Simonton method.According to the brochure, he was "a pioneer in the field of cancer therapy in which not only the body plays an important role, but also the brain." "It should be a relative of Jim Carrey." I said sarcastically. Half an hour later, we bought two books by Simonton and left the bookstore. We put Luna to bed, the phone has been on all night, we put the handset off, and we each pick up a book by Simonton.Carmen turned to "Journey to Healing" and I started watching "Getting Healthy." "Some people may worry that we are giving patients some 'false hope', but we hope that patients can face it with a positive attitude." I read. Not long after, I saw Journey to Healing flying past me. "My God, I'm sitting here reading about cancer! I don't want to read about cancer!" screamed Carmen. "It's not fair, it can't be true, it can't be!" I couldn't agree more with her insightful analysis, but all I could do was hug my growling, trembling little Carmen, Touch her, kiss her, comfort her in a low voice, "Calm down baby, don't do this, don't do this—" It was the night before the Queen's birthday.The whole city was busy celebrating, but at 872 Amstelveen Straße, two distressed people hugged each other tightly. i want to dance, dance, dance dancing on a volcano De Dijk, from Dansen op de vulkaan (Wakker in een vreemde wereld, 1987) At a quarter past nine the doorbell rang and Frank stood in the doorway.I almost fainted in surprise, because when he wasn't working, Frank didn't think the day had started until lunchtime. Frank is lazy, self-centered, smug, and my best friend.Unlike Thomas, Frank knew everything about me.We work together all day, he knows what I think, what kind of sandwich I like, he knows that at Bonnieville I fuck not only Sharon but Lisa and Cindy and Diane, knows me and Back when Carmen was still in a relationship, I still had regular sex with Mulder, because we shared apartments and hotel rooms for many years, and he could hear exactly what I was doing in my room at night.Frank's sexuality was the exact opposite of mine.When I hadn't known him for too long, I thought he must be sneaking off to whorehouses, but now I know he's just not that interested in getting laid.As many times as we went to the bar, there were very few girls he talked to and had sex with. In the fifteen years we knew each other, he had only slept with three women.I guess I understand what he's thinking, he's pretty self-important, he doesn't want a woman, he doesn't want a family, nothing else matters except himself.The only money Frank has to spend is Frank himself, and he spends money like hell, but he spends it carefully.Frank has a style, and he wants everyone to know it.Frank would visit the right exhibits and go to the decent restaurants.He's got the latest Prada before it's even in the stores (and he never misses a chance, casually mentioning it over lunch at MIU).Most of his money is spent on a luxury penthouse in Boreham Grant. The apartment was as big as a ballroom, and everything in it was worth a fortune.The kitchen alone cost more than all the furniture in our house on Amstelveenstrasse, not that Frank was in it a lot because he couldn't cook.Frank can't iron clothes, or do laundry, or go shopping, or change bicycle tires.In addition, Frank has no housekeeper, no driver's license, and does not know how to deal with these complicated affairs.Sometimes his father would come here from Breda to do all the chores in his apartment.His mother tidies up and does his laundry.He came to my house for dinner twice a week, and he took it for granted that wherever we drove, he could go with us.He often goes with us, and he feels that if he is a real friend, he will not care so much. "I sure can't leave you alone for Queen's Day, can I?" Unlike Thomas, Frank doesn't feel awkward hugging and kissing me.When returning to the office from vacation, birthdays, and winning new clients, Frank and I always hug each other.I like this.It reminds me of the kind of friendship you usually only find in Bruce Springsteen songs or beer commercials.Our house was immediately turned upside down by Frank, Carmen was delighted and surprised, and Luna was crying with joy.She liked Frank very much, and Frank liked her very much. We sat at the table, and Frank happily accepted Carmen's invitation to eat mooncakes. He asked how we were, and Carmen told him exactly what I was interrupting.Frank put his hand on her arm every time she found it difficult to continue, and he listened carefully to what had happened yesterday.Dr. Shetema's explanations, chemotherapy, and our moods as we walked down the corridors and out of the hospital. At this point I became more silent.Got up to go to the toilet several times, I didn't really want to, but I was just restless.Fortunately, I smell shit. "I took Luna upstairs and changed her diaper." I carried Luna up the stairs.My eyes filled with tears.I wiped Luna's bottom clean and put on a new diaper.Luna looked at me with a surprised expression. "Oh baby my dear baby—" I snapped her jumpsuit up, lifted her up, and held her tight in my arms, looking over my shoulder as tears rolled down my face outside the window.I still can't get it, we're thirty-six, we have a lovely daughter, we both have our own careers, we've got great lives, we've got enough friends, we can do whatever we want, but now , Queen's Day, and we sit here and spend half the morning just talking about cancer. After seeing Frank off (he asked if we really didn't want to go out with him today - Carmen didn't let up), I was even more anxious.She told me earlier today that she didn't want to spend the afternoon in a shouting crowd.Of course I understand, but the thought of sitting here all afternoon grieving almost drives me crazy.Keeping Danny from the party was worse than taking Luna's puppet doll.Right now, especially now, I want to go out, I want to get drunk, I want to party, I want to do anything but keep talking about cancer. I sighed heavily as I sat back at the table. "You don't have to be so obvious when you're bored," Carmen said sharply to me. "There's nothing I can do about cancer." "No, neither can I," I said angrily. 我想跑我想躲我想挣脱那困住我的牢笼U2,from Where the Streets have no Name(The Joshua Tree,1987)13一个小时以后，我再也无法忍受。卡门坐在那翻阅《身体内部世界》，我知道她其实看不进去。 “该死，看在老天的分上，我们在家里干吗？”我突然吼道。 她看着我，眼泪就要流出来了。哦，不，这就是我所需要的吗，过去二十四小时无数次的痛哭？我逼着自己冷静下来，然后跑向她，紧紧抱住她。“宝贝，我认为出去做点什么对我们会更好，这样对我们一点好处没有，至少我们带卢娜去沃德尔公园吧。” 她擦掉眼泪，“好——是的，也许这样更好——”女王节这天，沃德尔公园满是来自城市高级区——阿姆斯特丹南部的孩子，甚至急于表现天分的孩子也都是阿姆斯特丹南部的，两个小男孩正在卖自制的桔馅饼，他们的声音听起来就好像他们是儿童唱诗班的。我小时候从来没有做过馅饼，也想象不出布雷达鲁德的哪个朋友做过这个。还有一个孩子在背诗，脸上严肃的表情与她的年龄极不相称，“如果我有个这样的孩子，我宁愿不要。”卡门说。 是谁让孩子做这些？诗歌就像华丽摇滚，像4—3—3布阵的足球队——除了我年迈的荷兰语老师和《荷兰国家日报》的评论员，我不知道还有谁会读诗。这些孩子在自豪的父母关切的目光下演讲朗诵、弹小提琴、耍宝，通常他们都很恼人，我和卡门越来越厌倦。一个穿橙色衣服的小女孩，扎着马尾辫，让我们听她学小提琴的经过。“我宁愿卢娜进监狱也不愿让她去上小提琴课。”我在卡门耳边轻声说，她哼了一声。这个穿橙色衣服孩子的母亲不会认为我们很风趣的。 “很好，不是吗？”我问，将卢娜抱到我的肩膀上坐着，穿过巷子走向公车站。 卡门吻我脸颊，眨了眨眼睛。 那个可爱的夏天已经远去了那个始于五月的夏天你以为它永远不会结束但不知不觉间夏天又已远去了Gerard Cox,from Het is weer voorbij die mooie zomer(Het beste van Gerard Cox,1973)14再过三个月，夏天就结束了，化疗也会结束了。那时卡门头发已经掉光了。开车带卡门去医院做第一次化疗的路上，我突然意识到，这个夏天有很多事我基本上可以不用想了。周日布鲁明岱尔海边之旅？不，如果卡门没有头发了，她几乎不会想去。如果化疗对她身体产生极大影响，那我们也可以打消去纽约过复活节的计划了。星期二下午在公园踢足球？forget it.我必须待在家给卢娜喂吃的，哄她睡觉，因为卡门正在楼上躺着，不停呕吐。当然我可以经常给弗兰克或穆德打电话，让他们来替一会儿，然后自己去踢足球—— 我甚至还没有考虑这个夏天、这次化疗以后的生活。我甚至不敢开始去想接下来的几个月将会发生什么——我不敢往后想。 我们开车到环形路时，开始下小雨。it is good.就我来说，这个夏天结冰都可以。我关掉收音机，今天上午DJ埃德温?艾维斯对我来说过于快活了，我打开CD，迈克尔?斯戴普唱道：“不管日子多么艰苦都要撑下去，就算所有的事都是错误，就算明明知道生命无法继续都要努力。”我们俩都沉默地坐着，卡门也在听。她擦去一滴眼泪，我把手放在她的腿上。 “不，不，不，你不是单独一人。坚持，坚持。”卡门把手放在我手上。 “坚持，坚持。”“嗳。”歌曲结束时卡门叹了口气。 我们朝走廊尽头谢特玛的办公室走去，首先是抽血样，不记得是验什么了，大概跟白细胞有关，不然就是红细胞。他们给卡门扎针抽血，然后给她一块棉签压住扎针处，再然后我们又回到走廊上。Wait.在医院的这几个星期我明白了一点，等是这个世界上最自然的事情。他们给你的预约时间只是准备阶段。一刻钟以后，我已经看完了在医院商店买的《人民报》。刚才我在走廊上看见女性杂志中有《荷兰国际足球》，还有《故事》和《玛格丽特》，《国际足球》里面介绍的比赛结果，我大部分都已经知道了。终于，我们被叫进去见谢特玛医生，这次她看起来甚至兴致很好。 “那么，今天我们是要治疗了，不是吗？”她说，就像个童子军领队带着一群小童子军在阿登山脚下。 卡门的血液没问题，治疗可以继续。她说，我们要去三楼的化疗室。 我从来没有做过，但隐隐觉得看化疗不会是一个灾难。我答应卡门每次我都陪她一起去，她放了心，说我真好，想陪她。嗯，是，“想陪她？”我暗想。我只是不想卡门一个人去面对这些罢了。我无法想象会有人真想陪着去做化疗。 我没有错。大部分化疗病人的爱人都在家、在上班、或在别的什么地方，在哪也罢，反正不是在化疗室。 我们走进去时，一个新世界展现在我们面前。这不是一个普通的医院病房，远远不是，有人是花了心思把这个地方弄得看起来很温馨。靠近窗户有一张桌子，上面放着两个咖啡壶，一些咖啡杯，还有一碟姜味面包片，一半涂了黄油，另一半光秃秃的，符合化疗主题。有两个空的圆桌，铺有桌布，其中一张桌上放着一盆小植物（不要问我那是什么植物），已经干枯了。两张桌子边都有低椅。这里的一切布置都给人感觉像普通家庭的普通房间。但是，很可惜，这里的病人多少破坏了这里的基调。他们手上有大块胶布，胶布下连着透明管子，管子另一头连着挂在推车上一包包红色透明液体。现在可以看到，液体通过导管滴下来，然后消失在胶布后面，恐怕，再然后就是进入身体内了。这看起来并不健康，肯定也不会令人愉快。 四个病人中有三个都推着吊挂点滴的推车。一个看起来是很开朗的男人，身上有大块已经消褪的文身，他没有吊点滴，这意味着他和我一样，不是病人，或者只是我这么认为。他肯定是和坐在他身边的那个年龄较大的胖女人一起的，他紧紧握住她的手。他的妻子在吊点滴。她头发很少，染成深红色，透过头发可以看见她的头皮。坐在她旁边低椅上的是一个约五十岁的男人，他和意大利裁判科里纳一样秃，他的眼睛也很奇怪。仔细看过他之后我发现，不是眼睛使他显得很怪，而是因为他没有眉毛和睫毛。 另外一个是一个时髦的年轻人的，他戴着一顶盖茨比帽。我想他大概二十岁。我记得，上星期他也来了，在谢特玛医生的办公室外面的走廊上。那时他和他的女朋友一起，一个小女孩，看起来像意大利人，齐肩黑色卷发。她是个漂亮的小美人。我记得那时我觉得高兴，因为我们不是与癌症有关的唯一年轻人。那么今天他的女朋友去哪了呢？我想她已经离开他了，因为他可能有睾丸癌或其他什么癌。如果她还没有离开他，那么她更是个胆小鬼，她的男朋友在做化疗她去哪了？不，我没有那么糟糕，我有些自得。 “早上好，我是珍妮。”一个斜眼的护士说道。 “嗨，我是卡门。”卡门语气充满同情。 “嗨——我是丹。”我说，一边和珍妮握手。 斜眼护士指着旁边一个二十几岁穿着白色护士服，看起来有点笨手笨脚的小女生说：“这是优兰达，我们的实习生。” intern?intern?一个二十来岁的黄毛丫头就有机会列席我们的化疗洗礼，我内心认为这肯定是一个充满泪水的过程，而这却是她实习的一部分？毫无疑问，今晚她就会在酒吧告诉她的同学朋友们，“今天有一个女的去做化疗，她长得很好，不会超过三十五岁，她的名字叫卡门还是什么的，待人很友好，她的朋友和她一起，一个傲慢的粗人，他一句话都没有说，这个女的和她朋友，对了，这是他们第一次去化疗，然后这个女的开始哭，我得照看她——哎，你还要啤酒吗？顺便问下，你的实习怎样？你说过你要重新评估了。” 讨厌的小护士。 珍妮告诉我们，卡门的化疗药物已经在医院药房定好了，不会花很长时间，因为今天病人不是很多。有时他们这里同时会有八个病人，那就会非常无聊，因为药房要到中午才能准备完药物。 电话响了，珍妮拿起话筒。 “范迪安潘夫人的化疗药物已经准备好了。”她放下电话对那个实习生说，“你能去取吗？” 她点头，走出房间。 “她是个好女孩。”珍妮说，微微弯腰靠近我们，“不是所有实习生都能得到这种评价的。” “是的，”卡门面露微笑说，“我知道。” “你也有实习生吗？” 卡门和珍妮兴高采烈地聊起了关于实习生的一些事情。卡门又一次让我惊讶于她与人交谈的能力，友好、无须准备、无忧无虑。我知道她非常紧张，她把化疗当做她必须攀登的高山，但是她仍然能够饶有兴趣地去听珍妮讲她前一位实习生的事。 我做不到。我不是故意粗鲁，但每次走进医院，我就控制不了。我无力改变。我恨癌症，我恨它对我们的生活所造成的一切，我恨我现在是癌症病人丈夫的新身份。我愤怒，沮丧，无奈。我很生气，气沃尔特斯医生，气谢特玛医生，气护士、实习生、其他病人，气这个遭上帝遗弃的、压抑的圣卢卡斯医院的建造者，气今天早上路口那辆车里的人，绿灯亮了很久他都没有注意到，还气珍妮，她太友好，我只好尽量不把她看做是头母牛。 我对自己这么生气也感到生气。我气自己不能听天由命，我不能接受卡门患有癌症，我是她丈夫，祸福与共。是，我今天陪她一起来了，当然，昨天卡门在电话里告诉她妈和安妮，她说我真的很好，陪她来做化疗，那时我为自己而骄傲。当然，我说过我们俩一起对抗癌症，我们不会让它占上风的。当然，这一切我都知道！我还应该做点别的什么呢？难道要告诉卡门因为我故意逼自己表现好，所以才在走过走廊时给她拥抱，说安慰的话，吻她的脸颊和头顶，用拇指抚摩她的手心吗？我只是为了实践当时在教堂里的承诺？但是说真的，我的确是在勉强自己 做一个温柔体贴的老公。 那个实习生拿着一个巨大的特百惠盒子进来，盒子的盖子用两片铁片固定住了。 “很快啊。”珍妮愉快地说，“我来打电话叫医生准备滴液。” 医生是个羞涩的年轻人，穿着白大褂。 “这位女士需要滴液，弗兰斯。”珍妮指着卡门说。 弗兰斯医生和卡门握手，脸红了。和那些老家伙不同，呃？弗兰斯很幸运，卡门穿着一件宽松的毛衣，不然我想他可能不知道要将目光放在哪里。看见别的男人认为卡门有魅力时，我会非常骄傲得尾巴都翘上了天，通常我都会以典型的丹尼式的方式来表现——就是尽可能酷地看着那个当事人。你喜欢这位你盯着看的美丽女士吧，你这个傻瓜？继续做梦吧！然后我就会无比骄傲，因为我是卡门的丈夫。 卡门的哭声把我从白日梦中拉回来，因为弗兰斯越来越紧张，说他必须再重新做一遍。他没能把那根大得荒唐的针——我看到针，吓傻了，直径有半厘米——扎进正确的血管。我怒视弗兰斯，但他没有注意到，因为他和珍妮忙着止住卡门手上涌出的血。 弗兰斯第二次尝试似乎很成功，这是我得出的结论，因为他鼓舞性地说，“看起来好些了”，还一边轻轻拍着卡门的手。 “是的，成功了。”珍妮马上说，松了口气。她抓住卡门的左手，轻轻抚摩，而我——几乎无法控制住泪水——坐在卡门的另一侧，把她的头靠在我胸口，这样她就不用看医生在她手上到处下针。 “对不起，用了这么长时间，你的血管不容易找。”弗兰斯抱歉地说。他笨拙地握握卡门的左手，含糊地说了句“再见”，没有看我们，尽快从门口走出去了。 珍妮问我们想不想跟别人一起坐在其中一张长桌边，那些人似乎并没有为卡门哭而感到尴尬——癌症病人已经习惯了任何事，还是我们更愿意在旁边的房间里坐。我看看卡门，她正在用那只还没有插入导管的手擦去脸颊上的泪水。 “不，我们还是坐在那张桌子边，和那些人一起，这样合群些。”她笑着说。 我不确定这是不是真的很合群。我知道我在其他人面前会有点害羞，戴着大盖茨比帽的那个男孩、那个没有眉毛的人、穿着白色毛衣的女人和她那性格愉快的丈夫，所有人都清楚地看到了我好几次亲吻卡门头顶，他们肯定也看出我用了多大的力量才控制住自己。专心安慰一个人就像是你的裤子掉了下来，你让别人看到你最私密的一面。但也许卡门是对的，让我们加入到别人一起吧。我们必须习惯这个。就像网球名将理查克拉契克说的，“如果避不掉，那就面对吧。” 我走向窗户边的那张桌子，上面放着茶的那张。卡门过来站在我身边，等我倒完茶，我有种感觉，她不想自己一个人走过去坐在那些和她一样的癌症病人中间。 “不容易吧？”那个穿白色毛衣、头发稀少的胖妇人问道。红色液体沿着导管滴进她的手里。 “不——”卡门说。 “我想这是你第一次做化疗吧？” "yes." “别担心，你会习惯的。” “希望如此——” “但是，当然这绝不是什么有乐趣的事。” “上帝，这就像是去税务办公室。”她丈夫愉快地说，带着浓重的阿姆斯特丹口音。 “只要他们把我们照看得比那些植物好。”胖妇人说，朝可怜的植物点头。大家都笑了，卡门也是，我也是。我看着她，决定要把今天过得尽可能好。这时，年青男孩推车上的仪器开始哔哔响了起来。 “有人在微波炉中放了什么东西吗？”我说，试着尽可能接近那位胖妇人丈夫的幽默感。 “是，我放的！一个土豆炸肉丸和一个奶酪蛋奶酥。”他得意地说，接下了我的话题。 大家笑得更开心了，卡门融入了他们中间。那个实习生跑到戴帽子的男孩身边，把另一根小导管插进机器中。我发现三个人里面有两个人的点滴都空了。 我和卡门移到另一张空桌子坐下。另一张桌子边所有的椅子都有人。可惜，现在气氛正好着呢。 卡门也有一个自己的推车了，好在是珍妮弄的。尽管她斜眼，但任何时候我都宁愿叫她，而不是那个实习生。天知道像那样的孩子会犯下什么错误。在推车上方，珍妮挂上两袋透明液体（一袋是对抗呕吐的）和一袋红色液体（这是阿霉素）。红红的看起来像毒药一样恐怖，就是它，从这一刻开始就离不开卡门了，也就是它会让卡门掉头发。 透明的管子和卡门手上的注射管接在一起，另一头连着一部机器，挂在点滴架中间，机器上面有两排红色的数字和箭头，一排数字是控管透明液体的。珍妮按了按机器说，大概需要二十分钟的时间，机器上的数字也显示了二十。 “完成之后它会鸣叫，如果我恰巧没有看见的话，你就得叫我。” 根据刚才那个男孩的经验，我已经知道程序了。 “酷——我自己的化疗车。”卡门眨着眼睛说。 现在我们开始变得可笑起来。 “上帝，她真的是斜眼，不是吗？”我在卡门耳边低语。 卡门点点头，板起脸，忍住了笑。 “我们可以叫她克拉伦斯吗？”我故作天真地问。 卡门呛了满口的茶，吐了出来。我假装被卡门的点滴架绊倒装作恼怒的样子，转过身，趁珍妮没看见，做了一个憨豆先生式表情和动作，威胁要把这个东西扔出房间。 “拜托，丹尼！”卡门大笑着喊道。 珍妮微笑着看看卡门，很高兴她在笑。“听起来你感觉好一些了。”她对卡门说，并对我眨眨眼。我脸红了，觉得她可能已经猜到刚才我低声的玩笑话是冲她来的。我意识到这个斜眼的珍妮会愿意尽她所能做任何事，只要能使病人的生活不那么痛苦，哪怕只有一个上午，一个小时，一分钟。如果成为笑柄能够帮她做到这个，她也绝不会推辞。与斜眼珍妮相比，我觉得自己有些渺小。 我过去坐在卡门身边，她吻我，在我耳边低声说她爱我。我充满爱意地看着她，为我们俩感到骄傲。第一次的化疗就在微笑中结束。