If I Should Die Before I Wake (5 page)

“P
am, I want you to act like nothing’s
strange about a roomful of doctors
playing video games while the patient lies on
the operating table waiting for surgery,” Mrs.
Coffman said. She stood in the room directing
the actors for the portable TV cameras.

Deanne giggled and glanced down at the clipboard. They already shot seven scenes and the production was going smoothly. She had to admit that she had been scared to death of the project when Mrs. Sanders had told her to do it. But, after discussing it with Clare Coffman, she became excited to do it.

The play had been fun, planning it, writing it, and getting the kids together. Pam had been chosen to be the Narrator. She would guide the viewer through an imaginary day in the life of an oncology patient.

The script was outrageous. There was a lot of fun made of the staff, the hospital, the treatments, and each other. Once Deanne had started talking about it to the kids on the oncology floor, suggestions about how to make it funny flowed like water.

Pam decided to play the part of the Narrator without wearing either a scarf or a wig. Her head was covered with a brown fuzz and she seemed proud to show it off.

“Very good!” Clare shouted as the kids played the roles of the doctors and ignored the guy playing the patient on the operating table. Their scrub clothes hung down to the floor and the patient lay wrapped in a sheet. He pleaded for the doctors to hurry up. “I tell you, I can’t wait all day,” the patient yelled according to his script. “I must get back to my room! It’s lunch time!”

“Cut!” Clare called. “Excellent! Deanne, where do we go from here?”

Deanne checked off the scene they just finished and said, “Let’s see. We need to go to a room so the Dietician can serve lunch.”

“Okay,” said Clare. “Who’s playing the Dietician?”

Matt stepped forward. “I am,” he said.

The troupe of actors, cameramen, staff, and assistants went upstairs into a room already brightly lit for the new scene.

“In bed, patient,” Clare directed.

The kid actors took their places. “Camera and . . . action,” Clare announced.

“Here we have the typical patient resting comfortably and waiting for her meal to arrive,” Pam said from her memorized script. The bed was aimed at a cockeyed angle so that the patient looked folded up in the bed.

Matt, as the Dietician, came into the room carrying a large tray heaped with thick cardboard cutouts of different food items.

“I have a wonderful meal for you!” he announced. He put the tray on the patient’s bedstand.

“It looks so stiff and unappetizing,” the patient said.

“You vill eat this or you vill be shot!” Matt shouted in a thick German accent.

Deanne kept stifling her laughter. She was having a great time and so was everybody else.

On cue, Susan rushed into the room carrying a three-foot-long foam rubber syringe. She yelled, “Shot! Shot! Did someone say shot?”

“Cut!” Clare called out. “Terrific, kids! That was just terrific.”

Deanne checked that scene off on her clipboard. “Now we need the VolunTeens giving the patient a sponge bath,” Deanne said.

Two younger kids, dressed in the familiar VolunTeen outfit, came forward carrying a basin of water, a rubber duck, and a blow dryer.

Pam began her narration. “One of the best parts of a patient’s day is when the friendly, helpful VolunTeen staff arrives to give the patient a nice, quiet sponge bath in bed.”

Immediately, the two VolunTeens began bickering over who was carrying the bowl. “I’ll do it!” the first VolunTeen shouted.

“No, you won’t! I’ll do it!” the second VolunTeen shouted back. They both kept tugging at the bowl they carried between them.

The bowl was dumped right on the patient’s lap. “Now look what you’ve done!” the patient shouted.

“Oops!” said the first VolunTeen.

“So start sponging!” cried the second VolunTeen. Together, the two girls began rubbing the struggling patient all over with the sponge. Then, they turned on the blow dryer and aimed that at the patient.

“Cut!” Clare called out. “Outstanding!” she cried. “Oh, you all are really doing a terrific job. Just wait until we sit down and see the finished tape! You will be so proud.”

The day seemed to fly by. Deanne ran around to help set up scenes. She reminded the actors of forgotten lines. She got cans of pop and snacks for everyone working on the project. By five o’clock the production was complete.

“It’s a wrap!” Clare called. “
Hairless
is officially ‘in the can!’”

The group clapped, cheered, and whistled. “Now, I’ll edit it. I think we’ll be ready to officially view it in a couple of days.”

“We need to have a premier party,” Pam said.

“Good idea!” Clare agreed. “Who should we invite?”

Everybody started talking at once. “Hold it! Hold it!” Clare laughed. “Deanne, help plan this thing!”

Deanne called out, “I need a committee. You, you, you, and you,” she said, pointing to various faces. “Tomorrow, at two o’clock in the rec room, we’ll plan the party.”

“The gala opening of
Hairless
!” someone shouted. Another cheer went up. Deanne beamed. She had never had more fun.

* * * * *

“Are you okay?” Deanne came quietly into Matt’s room and walked over to his bed.

“Sure,” Matt whispered. But Deanne could tell he was in pain.

“I missed you after we finished taping this afternoon,” Deanne said.

“I was feeling a little tired.”

“Matt,” she reached out for his hand. “My father’s waiting down in the lobby for me. I’ve got to go home. But I’ll be back first thing in the morning. Can I call you later tonight?”

He squeezed her hand weakly. “It’s all right,” he said painfully. “I’ll be okay until tomorrow.” Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead.

Deanne felt a lump rise in her throat. She felt so helpless! She wanted him to stop hurting. “Did you have a good time today?” she asked.

“Sure,” he whispered. “You wrote a great script. I can’t wait to see it all put together.”

Deanne ached inside for him. She could think of nothing else to say. “I-I have to go,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“If I should die before I wake,” he said with a half-laugh.

“Oh, Matt, don’t say that!” Deanne pleaded. She squeezed his hand and left the room.

It had been an interesting day. They taped a twenty minute video play about cancer. They made fun of all the things that kids with cancer had to endure. Everyone had fun doing it, too. They had laughed and joked about a very serious topic. Deanne hurried down to meet her father.

* * * * *

The auditorium was crowed. Doctors, nurses, patients, parents, and hospital staff were all waiting to see the production of
Hairless
. Deanne squirmed in her seat. She felt nervous. So many people had shown up. Even her own parents were there.

Mrs. Vandervoort, smiling and waving at the people she knew, sat next to Deanne in the auditorium. Deanne silently wished it would start. The waiting was the hardest part.

Matt and his family sat two rows in front of them. Deanne had talked to all of his sisters and his brother when they first arrived. She also introduced the Gleasons to her parents.

“You must be very proud of Deanne,” Janet Gleason smiled. “Matt tells me she helped write and produce this entire show. And I heard she thought of the idea in the first place.”

Deanne blushed. Mrs. Vandervoort looked at her with surprise.

“Why, no,” her mother said, “Deanne only said she helped work on the story.”

“Well, according to Matt, she was the driving force behind the project.” Janet paused. Then she added. “You know, I’m glad to finally meet you. Deanne has been such a good influence on Matt. She’s been a real friend to him and so helpful. With the kids and all, I can’t get to the hospital as much as I want. But Deanne’s been here every day. I just want you to know what a fine girl my husband and I think you’ve raise.

“Why, thank you,” Mrs. Vandervoort said. She sounded impressed. Deanne had only blushed, waved at Matt, and gone back to her seat. Now, sitting and waiting for the production to start was making her nervous.

Suddenly the lights dimmed and the bigscreen TV lit up. The show was on.

Deanne watched the show. She thought it was funny. But the reaction of the audience surprised her most of all. They loved it! They laughed and clapped and stomped during the different scenes. Everybody seemed to recognize themselves and think it was funny. Deanne was thrilled.

When it was over and the lights came back up, the audience actually cheered. Clare Coffman walked to the front of the auditorium. “Let’s give a big hand to the real stars of this production!” she cried. “All you kids, my actors and actresses, my assistants, my camera people, all of you, please stand up and be recognized!”

Deanne got to her feet. Pam stood up. So did Matt, Susan, Carl, Todd, Mary, and all the other helpers on the project. The audience clapped and clapped. They shouted, “Bravo!” They made all the participants feel wonderful!

Afterward, during refreshments, many came over to Deanne and told her, “Great job.” “Nice work.” “Watch out, Hollywood.” Deanne beamed. She felt so proud and so happy. She did a good job and had a lot of fun doing it.

Mrs. Sanders came over and told both Dr. Vandervoort and Mrs. Vandervoort. “Your daughter is a fine nurse. She really cares about the patients. It showed tonight in that play.”

Dr. Vandervoort smiled warmly at Deanne and told her, “I’m proud of you, honey. You helped them do a fine job.”

Only her mother seemed a little withdrawn. Mrs. Vandervoort congratulated Deanne, but she also seemed preoccupied.

“Did you like the play?” Deanne asked when they were riding home.

“Oh, yes,” her mother said. “Very much.” They rode a while in silence. Then her mother said, “I had no idea how involved you were with the hospital. I mean, I know you spend a lot of time there, but I didn’t realize how much everyone thinks of you.” Then she added softly, “You’re not a little girl anymore.”

They drove on into the night.

“A
re you looking forward to going back
to school?” Matt asked Deanne one
afternoon.

“Not particularly,” Deanne replied. She shifted in her chair and smiled at him.

Matt was sitting in a semi-reclining position in a special chair in the Chemotherapy Department. A long plastic tube reached from his arm to a bag of fluids hung on a rack next to his chair.

“It’s not much longer now before school starts,” he said.

“Right after Labor Day,” she agreed. “But I’d rather stay here at the hospital than go back to a boring old classroom.”

“What!” Matt asked in mock horror. “And become the
only
Vandervoort not to get a diploma?”

Deanne chuckled. “You’re silly,” she said. Then she asked, “What will you do?”

“Get tutoring. I wish I could go back to school.”

Deanne understood what he meant. “You’ve been here a long time,” she said.

“Too long,” he told her. “The worst part is I don’t think I’m getting any better.”

“Of course you are,” Deanne protested.

A half-smile crossed his thin, handsome face. “I sure don’t feel like I’m getting any better.” They both were silent. Finally, Matt spoke. “You know,” he said, “what I’d really like to do before this summer’s over is go up to Loch de Nor.”

“Your parents’ place at the lake?” Deanne asked. She remembered hearing his whole family talk about their lake home.

“Deanne,” Matt began, his blue eyes shining, “it’s so beautiful up there. Ever since I was a little kid, we’ve been going to North Lake, that’s what Loch de Nor means, you know. Even before I got sick we went there. I used to take the canoe and paddle along the shoreline for hours, just exploring. I found one place—that’s just incredible. You’d have to see it to believe it. It’s fantastic! I wish I could show you Loch de Nor. . . ,” his voice trailed off. Matt took a deep breath. Deanne could tell he wasn’t feeling well.

“I’d love to see it!” Deanne cried. She didn’t want him to lose his enthusiasm. “What’s your house like there?”

“It’s just a house. Anthony and I share a room. Tina, Theresa, Janette, and Patricia share rooms, too. Old Anthony’s spoiled, he’s had the room all to himself this summer.”

“Maybe you’d better check yourself out and go re-stake your claim,” Deanne teased.

“I would in a minute, if my doctors would let me.” He paused. “We do lots of stuff as a family,” he continued. “We play Hearts and Monopoly and every outdoors game you can think of.”

Deanne felt a twinge of jealousy. She couldn’t imagine a big family playing and having fun together like Matt said. Her childhood had been so different. “I like your family,” she said. “Tina is very pretty.”

“Don’t I know it. Last summer this guy who lives over on the other side of the lake used to come all the way around every day at noon just to talk with Tina when she walked out to the mailbox.”

Deanne giggled. “I’d be flattered,” she said.

“Are you trying to tell me that no one would walk all the way around the lake to see you?” he teased.

Deanne blushed. “Don’t be silly! Besides, who’s got time for that?”

“For love?” he asked.

“Stop it!” Deanne protested.

“You’re blushing! Did I hit a nerve? Ah, so there is someone special!” he said triumphantly.

“No one you know,” Deanne said in a huff.

“Will you see him when school starts?”

“He doesn’t go to my school.”

“Someone here at the hospital?”

She glared at him. Her face was red. “I told you there’s no one special. Now knock it off!”

“Hey! Hey! What’s all the racket?” asked one of the nurses as she poked her head in the room.

Matt and Deanne looked at her. “Patients on chemotherapy are supposed to be kept quiet,” she told Deanne. “You know that.”

Deanne swallowed hard.

“It was my fault,” Matt said. “I’ll keep calm. I promise.”

The nurse gave them a stern look, then left.

“Sorry,” he said.

Deanne shrugged. “Me, too.”

“Friends?” Matt asked,

“Forever,” she smiled back.

“Forever,” he whispered.

* * * * *

“Ugh! I hate the thought of going back to school.” Susan sipped her pop and made a face at Deanne.

“I know,” Deanne sighed. “Me, too.”

“I don’t know why my parents insist on keeping me in that fancy prep school anyway,” Susan grumbled. “Mother works, Dad works . . . just to send me to some silly rich kids’ school. I’d much rather go to a public school.”

“You never told me that!” Deanne said, surprised.

Susan glanced down. “I know,” she said. “I shouldn’t say it now. You can’t help it if you’re rich. You know, when the summer started and you started to work here at the hospital, I couldn’t believe it.”

“What do you mean?” Deanne asked.

“Well, you have so much. Why would you want to do volunteer work? It didn’t make any sense.”

“I would have never done it if you hadn’t encouraged me,” Deanne said sincerely.

Susan smiled. “I’m glad you did. Otherwise, we’d never have become friends.” She took a big sip of pop through her straw. “I’ll bet you’ve logged more hours than any VolunTeen in the program.”

“It’s been fun. I’ve never thought of it as work.”

“Still, when Pat Jacobson gives out the service awards next month, I’ll bet you get the most.”

“I wish we didn’t have to go back to school,” Deanne said, changing the subject. “I’ll miss everyone.”

“Especially Matt,” Susan finished.

“Especially Matt,” Deanne agreed. “But I am going to work on Saturdays and after school.”

“Yeah. Me, too. Next summer, I’ll be old enough to get a paying job. So, this may be my last summer fling with volunteer work,” Susan added.

Deanne felt sorry for Susan. She was glad she could afford to be a VolunTeen, glad that she could work at the hospital for as long as she wanted. All in all, Deanne realized that she had a lot to be thankful for.

* * * * *

Mrs. Vandervoort paced around the living room. Dr. Vandervoort stood leaning against the fireplace. Deanne watched the whole scene, her heart beating.

Matt’s family had asked her to spend the entire Labor Day weekend with them at Loch de Nor! She was so excited, she could hardly sit still. The whole weekend! Best of all, Matt’s doctors had given him a seventytwo hour pass from the hospital so that he could go, too.

“I don’t know,” her mother said, shaking her head.

“Mr. Gleason came to me personally,” Dr. Vandervoort told her. “He said that Matt had asked especially for Deanne to come stay with his sisters. It means a lot to the boy.”

“But the whole weekend,” Mrs. Vandervoort protested. “Hans, we don’t even know these people.”

“I know plenty,” he assured his wife. “They’re a fine family with a very sick son who wants to go home for a few days. He wants our daughter to come, too. It’s no different than letting her go spend the weekend with your sister, Christine.”

“But, Christine’s family,” Mrs. Vandervoort said.

“The Gleasons are family to me,” Deanne said quickly. “I’ll be staying with Matt’s sister, Tina, the whole time. Oh, please let me go! Mother, I want to go! I’m almost fifteen. I know how to act. I won’t embarrass the Vandervoort name, you know.”

“That’s not the point, Deanne,” her mother began. “It’s—it’s just not proper.”

“Why not? You wanted to take me to spend a whole weekend with Judson Cortland over July Fourth.”

“That was different . . .”

“Hold it!” Dr. Vandervoort said in his deep authoritative voice. “You’re my family, and I will decide.”

Both Mrs. Vandervoort and Deanne looked at him. “Sylvia, I see no reason why Deanne can’t go. She’s a mature, smart girl. The Gleasons are caring people and their son is very sick. They’ll take good care of both of them. I want her to go.”

Mrs. Vandervoort started to say something. But she changed her mind when he turned his determined face toward her. Deanne wanted to jump up and hug him.

“Very well,” Mrs. Vandervoort said finally. “I’ll speak to Mrs. Gleason and make the arrangements. Maybe you’re right, Hans. Deanne’s grown up a lot this summer. Maybe this is the perfect thing for her to do.”