When the smell of coffee wafted into the guest room, I slipped out of bed and joined my aunt and uncle in the kitchen.
They were so kind; they didn’t ask too many questions, and they offered just the perfect amount of small talk to make things pleasant. When Lou finally came out to the kitchen, we all looked up with anticipation. Did things miraculously change during the night? No. They didn’t.
So my uncle drove Lou to the ER.
I stayed behind to do two loads of laundry, but for some reason, I got almost no pleasure from the fact that I got both pairs of Lou’s shorts clean. I felt like I was growing numb with fear, and nothing was going to make me feel better until Lou got back and told me he was going to be OK. While I waited for Lou to return, I borrowed my aunt’s awesome iron, and I pressed some shirts before I repacked them into our suitcases. Forcing the creases out of a piece of fabric felt so good.
Wrinkles were the enemy.
We were selling anti-wrinkle cream, after all.
When Lou and my uncle finally got home, the news was terrible. The ER doctor basically assessed the situation with a cursory glance, and then he told Lou that he thought he “probably had cancer.” But, he’d need to refer Lou to a specialist to make sure. Lou told me later that the doctor spent about 15 minutes with him, 14 of which were spent talking about how this doctor’s parents owned a condo in Sarasota when he was growing up. The whole visit was horrible. And, it cost us $550.
Lou was understandably upset, but what could we do?
Well, the first thing we did was stop at Walgreens to pick up some adult diapers. This toilet paper and facial tissue situation was not working. So after I loaded up the back of our SUV, and we hastily hugged my aunt and uncle goodbye, I made a quick dash into the drug store to find some Depends. Lou waited in the car. This whole thing had been incredibly humiliating for him, and now, we were facing another massive low: we were buying diapers for him. I remember asking the checkout girl to double bag my purchase.
