-7-
ONE YEAR AND THREE MONTHS BEFORE
- Jazmin -
I was born with an expiration date, like the cookies in my lunch box, and the milk in my fridge. It will all rot. It's unavoidable. It's destiny. However, some expiration dates are farther away than others. Mine, according to Doctor B, was pretty damn close. My ship had sailed, the cliff was close and I always knew I could never change the course of actions unfolding ahead of me. After all, we are all trapped in a domino that eventually...ends.
From my point of view, there were two ways in which a human being could face death. You could either bury yourself in depression or you could empower yourself with efficiency. For me, it was the latter. I needed to make decisions and I had to make them fast because my expiration date was close.
Despite my condition, I considered myself a lucky person. I had seen and done so many things before my sickness kicked in. Besides, having death so close to me had put things into perspective. My values and priorities had changed forever. Maybe my body always knew that the end was close, so it just got ready.
Now, to be completely honest with you, death scared the hell out of me. In particular, at night time, right when my eyelids started to feel heavy, sheer panic clutched at my throat. The mere thought of never waking up awakened all my fears. My coping system for that was something mom used to do with me and Cas when we were kids: writing lists of things we were thankful for. And, trust me, it was a good strategy because appreciation scares away anxiety.
This was my list last night:
◾I'm thankful for waking up today.
◾For smelling my dad's perfume as he hugged me and rushed to work.
◾I was able to sleep with less pain than yesterday.
◾My sister let me hug her today. She never does that.
◾I saw Matt; he acknowledged me with a small smile. Also, I am thankful Matt didn't see me when I stole a lavender flower from his field. I put the flower inside my copy of the Odyssey. I am thankful for lavenders. Their scent adds a whole new dimension to my reading time.
◾Damon kissed Elena in an episode from The Vampire Diaries today. It was on right when we were having dinner.
◼ Someone leaked pictures of Niall Horan sunbathing in Hawaii. I am happy I was alive to see him so happy—and hot.
Writing lists had always brought me comfort. There was nothing so good to me as to write small items one below the other on a blank sheet of paper, and just make them happen. Putting into ink the desires of my heart—even if it only meant cleaning up my closet—made it reachable, attainable. Oh! And the pleasure of scratching the items off once I was done with them? To me, that was the epitome of self-commitment and self-improvement. I had always believed that we all had to consider ourselves our most important project—in a healthy way.
There were also other lists in my journal. They were not so optimistic, but writing ugly things down helped me accept them because there was no other thing I could do about them. For example, I had a list of the missing organs in my body. It was short but enough to make a list:
Parts missing from my body:
◾Kidney (I was born with only one, and that was what made my disease so catastrophic).
◾Appendix (It had to be removed two years ago).
◾Wisdom tooth (Wait. That's not an organ. Nevermind, it hurt a lot so it deserved a place on this list).
◾My common sense. (It's been missing for a while. The doctors were to blame for this since they dictated that I only had three months ahead of me. And the three months turned into six so far. As far as I was concerned I could die at any moment. So, yeah, my common sense just melted away because there was no time to think rationally when my expiration date was burning my heels).
Diseases and conditions nagging the life out of me:
◾Lupus
◾Cataracts
◾Allergies
◾Depression
Hospitals I have been to in Argentina:
◾Garraham
◾Cemic
◾Gandulfo
◾Krime
Then, of course, I had a mental list of the prizes and scholarships I won in my life. It was very ironic that all my university life was covered thanks to all my hard work and good luck. However, I wouldn't live enough to actually use the scholarships or to show off my trophies.
On that particular night, that thought alone broke me down.
I needed to write a list to just get rid of the amount of grief I felt for myself, and the guilt that weighed my heart down.
This list had to include Cass. I had hurt her in so many ways, more than I realized. But also, it had to be different. I had to be honest about the things I wanted to do before dying. One thing I knew, this list was going to be epic. It had to be focused on the future—no matter how little of it was left for me. It had to contain all the things I really wanted to do before leaving this world, and I would make them happen. I had to make them happen.
So there I was, a sobbing ugly mess over my desk, and with my heart on my sleeve, I started writing my 'before-I-die' bucket list. I grabbed my favorite notebook, stripped off a page and I wrote every item on a different Stick note. I was feeling crafty, so I used Stick notes of all colors, Washi tape with different patterns, and glitter because I only used it for special occasions—and this was a special occasion.
There were too many nevers in my life: I had never been to a Coldplay concert. I had never kissed Matt, my crush since we were in kindergarten. Behind his house, there was this lavender field, and I always dreamt of sharing our first kiss there. I would be looking at myself from up above surrounded by this pale purple field of lavender buds, and the breeze would envelop us with the subtle scent of the flowers as he would kiss me. That was how the movie unfolded in my dreams.
Apart from that, I had never seen the sunrise because I used to feel tired in the mornings. Also, I had never kissed anyone famous. As a teenager who was about to die, I had the right to be kissed by someone famous. They would kiss me out of pity at least. I had to try.
The following morning I woke up with the bucket list stuck to my cheek, dried glue on my finger pads, and glitter littering the right side of my face.
Damn. I missed the sunrise again. But I made a mental note to do that tomorrow.
When people know you are about to die, they all give you this look of pity and sadness, like 'oh poor thing she is gonna die.' I was tired of that. That was why I loved Cassandra so much. She never looked at me that way. She always assumed she would see me again tomorrow. Sometimes, I wonder if she just lied to herself to survive, or if it was time for me to tell her the whole truth. Speaking of the Devil...
"What're you doing up so early?" I asked as I entered the kitchen.
"Dad promised to take me to driving school today," she claimed happily, her breakfast was almost done. "It's my third try. If I fail it will be the end of me. So he will be there for me."
"That's great." I smiled at her with my eyes set on the expiration date of the milk box.
"Yes. He's taught me some cool tricks to park the car, but I need him for support." Happiness colored her tone.
I nodded my head at her, my eyes doble-checking the expiration date.
"You're drinking expired milk," I informed her.
"Come again?" she asked for clarification, her eyes cast down to her phone screen.
"I said you're drinking expired milk," I repeated, annoyed.
Her fingers curled around her mug while she peered down at its contents. Then she took it to her lips, and drunk a big gulp. "It seems fine to me." She took yet another sip with her eyes locked on mine.
"Seriously, Cassandra?" I stared at her, disgusted.
"I'm just messing with you," she teased, throwing a slice of bread at me. "I used the milk that's at the door of the fridge. That one is good."
My eyes squinted, my lips pressing hard to suppress my smile. "Very funny." I grabbed the expired milk and left it on the counter because the smell was making me nauseous—someone else would have to throw it away.
"If something expires you just throw it away before someone gets intoxicated," I complained, fully aware that I wasn't doing what I was demanding others to do.
"Well, you know what dad says..." She trailed off with the back of the pencil against her lips. She was always so much prettier than me. "In nature, nothing is lost, everything is transformed, there is no planet B, and the cycle of life blah, blah, blah."
"I'm not sure that has to do with the expired milk in the fridge," I stated, taking a seat next to her.
"True. I was just waiting to see who would drink it." She smiled widely at me.
"Really funny. Now, I will not share the Nutella I bought last week," I teased her back.
"But Nutella makes you sick. And mum and dad have never let us try it." She looked at me confused.
I rubbed her shoulder. "Yeah, I know. But you have never tried it, so I may have bought one just to see your face when you try it."
She fixed her glossy blue gaze on mine, a question drawn on her face. She was still completely unaware of how much I loved her.
If someone was going to suffer when I left, that was going to be Cassie. In fact, that was why we decided not to tell her about my expiration date. She knew I was sick, but not that I was dying. I just needed some more time before breaking the news to her.
"Good morning, ladies," my dad interjected, his cologne filling the room.
He poured himself coffee and added the expired milk I left on the counter. The minute he drank it, the coffee burst out of his mouth, hundreds of droplets showering the kitchen counter.
Cassandra and I shared a look and we couldn't help but laugh loudly—my arms flying around my stomach, her head tipping back.
"Something is wrong with the milk," he declared, wincing.
Our laughter echoed in the room, and at that moment life felt perfect to me.
The phone rang, our loud cackles fading away with my dad's annoying ringtone.
"Hello?" My dad picked up the call. A long pause followed and I focused on drinking my tea.
"Now?" My dad stared blankly at Cassandra while he held the phone to his ear, his other hand on his waist.
He smiled, sighing in relief. "Is this for real? We've been waiting for this!" He strode toward me, his hand landing on top of mine.
"Hi, girls!" Mom hugged both of us, and kissed Cassandra.
She rubbed her cheek to remove the lipstick stain my mum left on her skin. "What's happening?" she asked my dad. But no one replied to her.
Dad's arms flew around my mum when he finally hung up the phone.
"Talk to us!" I urged him.
"We got an appointment with that doctor we wanted, Jazmin. He will see you at eleven, but it's in the south of Buenos Aires, so we need to leave now."
I smiled. "Really?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yes!" Dad replied. "We have really good references from him. He might give us a way out, honey." He and mum hugged me forcefully as if they would never be letting go of me.
"Come on. Get ready." He patted my back.
Silence filled the room. My parents were gone. I was still letting the information sink when I looked at Cassandra. I thought her eyes were rather glossy, but she quickly looked away, so I couldn't really tell.
"You okay?" I asked, before leaving the kitchen.
She cleared her throat. "Yeah."
"We're leaving, Jaz!" mum called me.
I rushed away, the door closed behind me. Maybe there still was some extra time for me to carry out my 'before-I-die' bucket list, and in that moment pure happiness flooded my heart like never before.
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