Nothing Is Predictable Page 11

  “C’mon, Zara, don’t panic yet,” Benji our older brother said. “Yes, it’s cancer, but it may be in the early stages and if so, she can be cured. Let’s not jump to any conclusions, okay? I don’t want you thinking the worst before we actually know the truth.” I felt sorry for Benji, hiding his own pain while comforting us.

  I looked up at Benji with teary eyes and said, “You know, the whole world is in one hand and my mother is in the other, I can’t survive if anything happens to her.”

  We all went into the room where Mom was waiting. She didn’t know whether we knew anything yet. Somehow, we managed to walk in with smiles on our faces, acting confident and with no sign of worry or panic.

  “Zara, come here,” Mom said, patting beside her on the bed. “You okay? Don’t worry, I’ll be okay, I’m not worried. Don’t worry, honey, I don’t think it’s bad.” Mother tried to comfort me as well as my siblings.

  “You’re telling us not to worry, Mom, we should be telling you this!” Evangeline said to her and then she began to cry and walked out of the room.

  “I’ll be fine, I promise, don’t worry, something is telling me not to worry.”

  We didn’t know what to say to her, or how to react. We didn’t want to scare her by showing how worried we were, but at the same time we didn’t want to minimize her condition and make her feel we were being dismissive of it. We tried to comfort her as much as we could but in reality, she was comforting us.

  It was time for us to go home and for her to rest, so we kissed her goodnight and left. As we approached the door to the ward, I looked back. Big mistake. I saw her in that bed looking defenseless and all alone with a look of agitation and a pretend smile as she waved goodbye to me.

  I couldn’t sleep all night and wandered around from one room to another, in a panic at the possibility of losing her. How could I lose both Dad and her so young? It had been bad enough without a male role model around me when I was growing up. I couldn’t be twenty-two years of age with no parents. I wondered why my family had been dealt never-ending blows.

  I managed to calm down and sleep a few hours and then first thing in the morning, I made my way back to the hospital with a thermos of Lebanese coffee, which she loved as much as I did. The nurses let me in early. Mom had asked them to let us in no matter what time we came to see her. She knew I would be the first one there.

  “Good morning, my queen, look what I have,” I said with a bright smile, trying to look calm and collected.

  “What are you doing here so early? You haven’t slept, have you?” Mom knew. It wasn’t a question. “Thank you, my darling daughter, you know how much I need my coffee in the morning. But unfortunately, I have to fast. I can’t have anything before surgery.”

  “Oh no! Sorry for teasing you. The aroma of coffee in the room doesn’t help either. So how are you feeling today, Mommy?”

  “Drowsy. They’re taking me down to theatre soon. You should have stayed at home until they called you, no point waiting in the hospital.”

  “No way, madam. I will be here waiting for you until you come out, okay? I’m not going anywhere, Mom, I’ll be here.”

  “We’ll all be here,” Izabelle said as the three of them walked in.

  Mom’s face lit up with happiness knowing we were all there to support her. Unfortunately, we were all so emotional we began sobbing.

  “C’mon, let’s not get too carried away here! We’re here to support you, Mom, not cry and make things worse,” Benji said.

  “I’ll be alright, I’ll be alright, just as long you don’t leave your sister on her own if anything should happen to me, okay?” Mom said, crying.

  “Oh, for God’s sake Mom, please don’t say that!” I snapped and walked out of the room to hide my emotions.

  I walked along the hallway to build up my strength before going back in. I was distressed by this horrifying news and what might happen. I was not prepared to lose her. I didn’t have the mental strength to handle it if her cancer was incurable.

  Later, my siblings told me Mother said to them while I was marching up and down the hallway, “Listen here the three of you before your sister comes back in the room. You’re all married with children, she’s the only one left on her own. I want you to promise me never to leave her alone should anything happen to me.”

  “Are you serious, Mom? She’s our baby sister, you don’t even need to ask us,” Izabelle answered.

  “Nothing is going to happen to you, Mom, this is just a pebble in your shoe. You’re a strong woman and I’m confident you will get through this battle. I don’t know about all of you, but I feel confident she’ll be okay,” Benji said.

  “I agree, Mom, I feel positive. And don’t worry about Zara, just focus on yourself and on regaining your strength, Mom, please,” Evangeline said.

  I walked back in the room and right behind me were the attendants to take her down to theatre.

  “Be strong, Mommy, we’ll be here with a fresh pot of coffee waiting for you!” I shouted as they wheeled her away. We all stood silent and motionless while she disappeared down the hallway.

  After several minutes of silence, I asked, “Who wants coffee?” and began to pour it from the thermos.

  “Yes pleeeeeeease!” they all replied.

  We waited at the hospital all day, moving from the restaurant, to the coffee shop, to the outdoor park, then back to the coffee shop. The day passed with the four of us talking and trying to laugh at our sarcastic jokes to hide our pain. In between, we kept following up on her progress with the nurses until the doctor eventually called us in.

  “So how did everything go, Doctor?” Benji asked.

  “The cancer had spread into the lymph glands, but we were able to get it all out. It’s malignant, which isn’t good news, however, it seems we did get it all. She’ll need radiation treatment soon though. In the meantime, she will remain here until she recovers.”

  “Is it life-threatening at this stage?” Evangeline asked.

  “Not sure yet. If it doesn’t go well, she may have only six months to live.”

  “What on earth do you mean, six months to live! Are you serious?” I snapped at the doctor, wanting to punch him or the wall to vent my grief and frustration.

  “I’m not saying she has six months to live, she might live another fifty years, but if the radiation is not successful and the cancer comes back, then yes, that is a possibility.”

  “He’s not saying she’s going to die in six months, Zara, calm down,” Benji snapped at me.

  “No, I’m definitely not,” the doctor said calmly.

  “Thank you, Doctor, may we go in the room to see her now?” I asked.

  “Yes, you may. Just don’t speak loudly around her. She’s still very drowsy and needs rest,” he answered.

  Before he finished speaking, I was already walking toward her room. I opened the door and there she was lying in the bed with her eyes half closed. When she saw us walk in, her face lit up with joy and with that trademark loving smile of hers.

  “Hey, hey, hey, champion! Well done, Mom, it’s all over,” I rejoiced.

  “Excellent news, Mom. They got all the cancer. Thank God it was early stages,” Izabelle said.

  We all kissed our Mom’s hand and sat beside her to comfort her.

  We spent weeks at the hospital while she recovered. Although they couldn’t give us an indication of the extent of the cancer, we all felt confident she would fight the disease with all her energy. At the same time, we were all terrified of the unknown. There was nothing we could do except thoroughly follow through with her treatments and remain positive.

  It took almost a year of daily and then weekly trips to the hospital for her treatments and finally, on the last day of her radiation treatment, we were assured that the cancer had been totally removed and she was in remission. After the successful radiation course, she developed an internal infection from her surgery wound. Every time without fail, I would sit on the floor outside the treatment room cove
ring my ears as she was tortured by the pain of opening and draining her wound. I can never erase her cries. They couldn’t use anesthetic, because they needed to know if she felt any sensations in the area and if any new cells were growing after the radiation.

  My mother is the strongest woman I know. With all the agony she endured, the only thing that concerned her was the health and happiness of her children. The nurses loved my mother. They always told us she was the most pleasant and polite patient they had ever treated. She never complained, on the contrary, she constantly praised them for their assistance and gave gratitude to God for her strength. She must have kept them supplied with chocolates and candies for a lifetime.

  A couple of years passed, consumed by hospital visits, until her infection settled and the wound completely healed. From 1994 to the end of 1997, my mother’s health took an emotional toll on all my family, particularly on me. I lived with her and saw her suffer daily with her treatments as she tried to regain her strength.

  Meanwhile, my job was steady, which supported the two of us financially. As for my training, I had to cut back because my time after work was consumed with hospital visits and caring for my mother and meeting William, the doctor.

  Chapter 22

  The Doctor

  USA 1998

  He was one of the main unit doctors who treated my mother at the hospital. Having spent three years visiting Mom at the hospital and taking her to treatments, our faces became familiar and well acquainted. He was pleasant and calm. I warmed up to him, and both Mom and I trusted his advice. I was surprised to learn that he had been attracted to me ever since we had met. That was three years before. Talk about calm!

  You see, he hardly smiled, and it was hard to tell if he liked someone because of his expressionless face. I might have been lucky once or twice to see the dimples cracking on his cheeks from my sarcastic verbal diarrhea, and so I knew deep down he understood my sarcasm somehow. He had a stern look about him that made people fear and respect him. With everything going on in my life, I was in awe of his imperturbable demeanor. He walked calmly, talked calmly but with authority, and controlled everything and everyone around him. I really liked this man. He was my kind of guy.

  In 1998, Dr William and I began to date. We kept it quiet for a little while. I looked up to him and enjoyed my time with him except for his lack of humor. I would throw light jokes around and he wouldn’t even blink, while I would almost be on the floor with laughter. I am not sure who really had the problem.

  What I loved about him was his encouragement and moral support of me about starting my own business. He loved my strength and my ability to think outside the square. I opened a recruitment business. I was tired of working hard for others and not getting anywhere financially. I became focused and determined about leading a rewarding successful life. My life changed completely.

  The business boomed within six months. My life was on track and had purpose, and I was fulfilled and satisfied with myself and my achievements. William and I had our personal battles, just like in any relationship, however he was a decent man. After a year together, we announced our relationship to family and friends. Neither William nor I had a social life. He was a busy doctor and I had a new business to focus on. Whatever spare time we had, which was minimal, we spent with each other and at times with our families.

  In 2000, William proposed, and we got engaged. Everyone was happy; my family, his family, we all got on well.

  Although life seemed normal for once, deep down in my heart there was something missing and I couldn’t quite grasp what it was. While I was content with my career, I felt incomplete in my personal life and I didn’t understand it. I was not fulfilled somehow, and neither was I interested in or passionate about sexual intimacy. Was it because marriage wasn’t a path I was comfortable with after my first experience? Or was it from my childhood years? Those experiences left such an ugly imprint on my mind I was never able to erase it. I wondered if it was simply because we were not fully compatible. I had struggled with his serious demeanor, but I accepted him for who he was. I respected him.

  I genuinely cared for William, and he for me. I never doubted his faithfulness, and not once did I feel he was untrustworthy or disloyal to me. I knew he honored me graciously and loved me genuinely.

  So what was it? Did I want the freedom and independence of not having to answer to anyone? Women search all their lives to find a partner they trust and honor, and here I was feeling discontent. Obviously, I had deep underlying issues I needed to deal with. What was wrong with me? There were days I felt immensely happy, and then doubt would suffocate me. I would argue with my inner demons to convince myself it was my problems I needed to deal with in order to pursue a happy future with William. I battled to make sense of my discontent. Unfortunately, I was unsuccessful.

  It was time for me to do the honorable thing and end my relationship. I was not prepared to settle for the rest of my life feeling the way I did, nor was I going to let William marry someone who was not truly compatible. He deserved better than that. In fact, we both did.

  One year later, after endless emotional battles, I withdrew from our engagement.

  I built up the courage to visit his parents’ house to ask for their forgiveness and give them my engagement ring. I knew William would have thrown it away if I’d given it to him. I respected his parents and family and wanted to part without animosity between us. His mother cried and was heartbroken that our engagement was over. His dad was immensely disappointed at my decision, nevertheless, they gracefully accepted my wishes. I begged his mother not to tell William she had the engagement ring until our separation period had settled, and she did. God bless her!

  Next came the battle to tell my mother. You can imagine that didn’t go well, but there was nothing she could do to make me change my mind. Only I knew how I felt. No one else did.

  William didn’t accept my reasons for walking away and it took him years to forgive me. To this day, he doesn’t understand why I couldn’t continue in the relationship. Apparently, my reasons were not convincing enough. William was very special to me and still is. I never disrespected him in any way, I just needed the both of us to live honestly. My heart was blocked, and I felt like I didn’t know what love was anymore. He didn’t deserve that.

  Off I went again, single and with those damn nightmares.

  Chapter 23

  Swiss God

  Europe 2002

  I decided to go away on a trip to Europe. While I was there I thought I’d visit Lebanon for a week to catch up with some friends and see how the country was progressing. I booked a business class ticket and was so excited; my first real vacation and in business class too! Go, Zara.

  Arriving in Lebanon was the usual; chaos and mess and much more chaos and much more mess. I feared the war might break out again and was constantly worried about getting caught up in it. I spent five days in Beirut, five days too many, as I was looking forward much more to exploring Europe for the first time. With all my mixed emotions, the time I spent with Linda and her comedy group were the best nights I experienced in Lebanon. We wined and dined and partied in Beirut. They were famous comedians in Lebanon so at every place we attended, we were treated like celebrities. I laughed so much my jaw muscles hurt from overuse.

  Surprisingly, despite the threat of war, Beirut was still a party city. Every night of the week, the whole night through. Even at 3 am on a Monday there were traffic jams in the city. Mostly, I think, because of the lack of driving regulations and the gridlocks at intersections. Nothing had changed in that area.

  My visit was short, and I only had time to meet with my friends. I thought about visiting my father’s grave, but the same as back in 1993, I wasn’t ready to visit him yet. I was still very angry with him, and I didn’t care where he was buried. He had tormented me as a child for eight years with his violence, and continuously haunted me with nightmares.

  Despite my feelings toward him, he was obviously on my mind because o
ne of the nights I was in Beirut I dreamt of him. It was a dream, not the usual nightmare. In the dream, I was running away from him and he was reaching out his hand to me. After that, I thought again about visiting his grave but couldn’t bring myself to go.

  The five days went by so fast and before I knew it, I was on a plane to England.

  As the plane descended over England and I looked out of the window, I was like a little child in a candy store. The green fields with the tiny cottages and hills were an overwhelming sight. I’m obsessed with Jane Austen novels and life in England at the time, especially Pride and Prejudice, my favorite romance novel. Not to mention Mr Darcy! Why don’t we have more men like that now? I wondered briefly if he was the kind of man I was looking for, but then thought of William, who had a similar disposition to Mr Darcy’s, and knew that wasn’t the case.

  I arrived in London for one night. The following day I was ready to commence a guided trip around Europe. I was so excited to experience this on my own. I had booked the single occupancy, as I didn’t want to share my room with anyone. I have always been fussy with my own things and love my privacy.

  The Netherlands and Germany were charming European countries, however, as we drove into Austria and Switzerland, I was overwhelmed by the picturesque mountains in September. Truly the most beautiful countries I have ever seen.

  The coach arrived in Lucerne and we disembarked to check into the guesthouse. I walked in and there he was, a Swiss God, the most handsome man I had ever seen in my entire life, and that included movie celebrities.

  “Hello Switzerland!” I announced loudly. He took my breath away.

  The girls on the tour laughed at my boldness but they were also mesmerized by his beauty. Even the men were saying what a handsome man he was. The girls encouraged me to approach him and of course, I was the confident outspoken one who always put her hand up.