Hot Blooded, Cold Hearted! - Carolyn Barber (best authors to read TXT) 📗

I suggest you harness that feistiness and use it to your advantage. Get angry at the cancer and fight it with everything you have. As tough as you are, the cancer won't stand a chance" he said trying to be encouraging. I chuckled, "Thank's doc, you know it's kind of funny to me, I spent a lifetime trying to keep people out of my head, and now I have cancer invading it, makes me wonder who the real enemy is" I said suddenly realizing, there are worse things to fear than people. "Call Dr. Yoshida right away, I'm sure you'll have many questions and this is her area of expertise, I'll be checking in with you on your progress the whole way. Trust me when I say you're not alone, you'll have an entire team of doctors that will see you through this flawlessly" he said. Morris who hadn't said a thing spoke up his voices sounding strained and emotional. "You won't be alone Penny, I'll be with you too, the whole step of the way" he said choking me up as he said it. I had always felt alone, even in a crowd of people. The feeling was delightfully foreign and awkward, but I welcomed it, any feeling was better than the feeling of being alone. Chapter 9

Dr. Yosida was amazing, she had a personal demeanor that made me feel comfortable. She had explained the six week process to me. I'd go in for about twenty minutes, during that time I'd be receiving radiation for only one or two minutes, so as not to harm healthy cells in that area. I would do this five times a week. The two day a week break was to give the healthy cells time to heal. She had explained that I would most likely start losing my hair around the second or third week of the treatment. Within two months after the therapy it would grow back. The five-year survival rate was fifty-five percent for my age catagory for the type of cancer that I had, that was with treatment. Though the information was grim, I appreciated her candor. I wanted to know exactly what I was up against. She didn't baby me or try to cotton-candy the information which I highly respected. "Penny, this is going to be the battle of your life, I want to do everything I can to help you tack on as much time as possible, that's why I'm here. I want you to think of me as the weak link in the chain, you need to be stronger than me in this, together we'll be a force to be reckoned with and kick some cancerous ass, capiche?" she said with conviction. "Capiche! I must say I like your style Doc, you remind me of me, straight forward with no holds barred, what do you think of my doctor, Morris?" I asked. "I almost feel sorry for the cancer!" he said as we all laughed. 

As Morris and I left the office, I decided to do something rash, "Morris I need to get my hair done, would you mind dropping me off at the salon over by my appartment?" Morris looked at me with a perplexed look on his face."Penny, what are you up to?" he asked. "Nothing! I just want to get my hair done, you know, treat myself to a little primping" I replied knowing he was on to me. "You're going to shave your hair off aren't you?" saying it more like a statement than a question. "Wouldn't you?" I replied sadly. "Yes, that is exactly what I would do. I would take as much control of the situation as possible" he responded surprising the hell out of me. "Thank you Morris, I'm glad you're here" I said as I reached out and held his hand. He smiled.

We walked into the salon, "Hi, can you fit me in for a shave?" I asked the receptionist. "Are we talking about your head?" she said smiling. "Yes ma'am, I want it shaved clean off!" I replied. "We can fit you in, but are you sure that's what you want? I mean really, your hair is absolutely beautiful" she said sounding almost desperate. "This is what I want for sure, is there anyway we could donate it to Locks of Love?" I inquired. "We sure could, that would be awesome!" she replied. "What's Locks of Love?" Morris asked me. "It's an organization that makes wigs of real hair and donates them children that have lost their own hair to cancer treatments" I said. "That's such a great idea Penny!" he replied thoroughly impressed. I would miss my hair, it hung all the way down to my waist and was a shiny chestnut brown as straight as and arrow. My hair, in my opinion, was my best attribute.

I sat down and a gal named Pixie through a cape around me. I had made sure to show her where they had recently shaved a small patch exposing the ugly stitches. She began brushing out my hair as I watched Morris sit down in the seat next to me while another stylist threw a cape around him. We said nothing, we just looked at each other in the mirror. I watched as his stylist, began combing out his thick dark brown wavy hair. I saw her pull out the clippers while she began giving him a clean buzz. He watched as my stylist did the same to me. When she was done, I reached up and felt my head, I liked the feel of smoothness. I wanted to feel Morris's shaved head, "You can touch mine if I can touch yours!" I said smiling. "Ooow, sounds kinky!" he said chuckling. I felt his head, as I did I looked into his eyes, dark brown, warm and compassionate. I smiled, "this is a really good look for you Morris" I said thoroughly meaning it. "My turn" he said as he raised his hand and began slowly gliding his hand over my head. As I felt a flutter in my stomach I put my hand on his wrist while he continued to rub my head, "Thank you Morris, from the bottom of my heart" I said softly. "Well, looks like I'm committed now" he said. "I'd say so, looks like I am too" I replied. We left the salon and he took me to my apartment. As he pulled up he asked if I wanted company, but I declined. I was exhausted from the day and just wanted to get some rest. "Do you want me to pick you up for work in the morning?" he asked. "That would be fine if you don't mind" I answered. "Don't forget, we've got to be at therapy by three" he said reaffirming he planned on being there for me every step of the way. "Oh, yeah, that's right, gee if you hadn't reminded me I would have completely spaced it!" I said sarcastically. "That's my girl, always the smart-ass!" he said chuckling. "See ya in the morning!" I said to him as I shut the car door and headed up to my apartment.

Chapter 10

I settled down into a nice warm bubble bath. The lavender scent filled the air instantly relaxing me. I laid back thinking about Morris and how I refused to look at him any other way than a business associate over the years. Even though he was strikingly handsome and I could lose myself in his eyes, I refused to give into the attraction. I thought about all the times, especially in the beginning, how mean I was to him. In fact I went out of my way to be mean to him and still he hung around. The thing with Morris that I liked the most was he wasn't afraid to tell me when I was out of line. He was always had a way of putting things to me that made me think. We had gotten into a quarrel long ago about what I don't remember, I do recall him telling me that the reason I was so rude and confrontational with him was because I was attracted to him, and that scared the hell out of me. Ofcourse I denied it and told him he was a delusional narcissist.

Our chemistry together was cataclysmic for the most part. There had been many episodes in the office where either he or I would slam the door in our office to privately feud aggressively until eventually one of us caved. Sometimes it was him, sometimes it was me, in the end it always came down to what was the best decision for the magazine. Our brains worked well together, even when things got volatile, sometimes our best ideas would be born out of the ashes of our heated discussions. Neither of us in the five years of working together had any relationships, the passion for the magazine was our love, it was the very thing that motivated, inspired and rewarded us. Morris was the most interesting person I knew, and the fact that he would drop some of his work load in my hour of need, told me volumes about him. If I was to be completely honest here, I would admit that he was right when he said I was attracted to him. I just refused to acknowledge it.

I had suddenly realized my thoughts were consumed by Morris, and yet here I had brain cancer and at best possibly five years left to live. Strange set of priorities, I thought to myself. I have the battle of my life ahead of me. Shouldn't I be thinking about that instead of some silly romanticism. But the fluttering in my stomach, what the hell was that? Why do I keep picturing his face, his expressions, the way he carries himself with such confidence. I keep recollecting our conversations, the heated ones, the kind and compassionate ones. Him insisting I would one day hold his hand because I wanted to, so right he was and how much I needed to hold his hand and so very thankful it was there. It must be the cancer, it's making my brain crazy with these thoughts! 

I climbed out of the tub, changed into my nightgown, curled up in bed and tried to get Morris out of my head. Soon I drifted off to sleep only to be woken in the middle of the night with the same damn nightmare