Pam opened her eyes at great cost. 

They felt so dry that she was pretty sure she could hear herself blinking. Everything else was dim and out of focus. The only thing she could really make out was the dim bathroom light somewhere in her peripheral vision. She tried turning her head, but snapped back quickly. Every single muscle in her neck and shoulders were stiff. She must’ve fallen asleep last night on the bathroom floor, where the migraine had eventually led her. After five days it was still as strong as ever, having hit her initially somewhere between surgery and Jim’s room in ICU. 

“Pam?”

The voice came from the direction of the light, but this time she knew better than to look. The voice could come to her. 

A blurry figure appeared above her and Pam tried again to clear her vision, but to no avail. 

“Just sit still,” it urged. “I’m going to get you another hot water bottle.”

Pam did what the voice said, like she had a choice. Minutes later she heard footsteps back in the room and the blur appeared above her again. 

“Feeling any better today,” it asked. 

Pam shut her eyes tightly, opening them once more to finally clear vision. It was her mother, in whose house she and Cece were staying, that had asked the question. 

Pam mouthed some words, but no sound came out. Her throat felt like sandpaper, like someone had taken a razor to her vocal cords. Still, she tried again. 

“The pain made me sick in the middle of the night,” she choked out. “I must’ve fallen asleep in the bathroom.”

Her mother was busying herself with adjusting the hot water bottle. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Well I just fed the baby. She’s a bit fussy today,” she said almost too cheerfully, “But don’t you worry, that phase will settle soon. Probably by the time Jim comes home!”

Pam swallowed hard, a difficult feat when your mouth has zero moisture. 

“Mom, you know you don’t have to do all this,” Pam asked imploringly. The room was swimming and she was beginning to feel very dizzy. Everything in her begged her to close her eyes, but she wouldn’t, not yet. “I could’ve stayed home with Cece.”

Her mother purposefully ignored that statement like she had done yesterday and the day before. 

“She’s going to be so happy you’re awake, but first I need you to come lie down in the living room. You’ll feel much better in there.”

She didn’t wait for Pam’s approval. 

“Do you want some breakfast,” she asked, helping her slowly to her feet. 

“No thanks,” Pam croaked, her eyes closed tightly as the blood pounded in her ears. 

“How about some juice,” she insisted. 

Pam stared at her hopelessly. She probably should try eating something. It had, after all, been a few days. 

“Okay, mom,” Pam agreed. 

“Good. Good,” she said. “Now on a scale of one to ten how’s the pain?”

Pam assessed herself while trying to move as little as possible. “A four,” she determined with a small shrug. 

“Alright,” her mother said, comfortingly placing her arm around Pam and guiding her towards the door. “Why don’t we get you settled in on the couch so you can try to get some rest if you can. It is only four in the morning right now,” she informed. 

Pam had been so disoriented since the hospital trip that her body clock didn’t know when she should be asleep or awake. She’d developed the unfortunate habit of sleeping during the day and sitting up at night, usually thinking or staring into space. She should’ve been helping her mother or taking care of the house or, you know, bonding with her own child. 

The guilt of just how unproductive she’d been felt like too much for her wrung out mind to soak in at the moment. 

“Can I have some water,” she asked after her mother finally deposited her onto the couch. Her head felt much better in the darkness. 

“Of course,” her mother said, and Pam heard her soon rummaging through one of the cabinets in the kitchen. She pulled out a plastic blue cup, filled it with room temperature tap water, and set it on the table beside Pam’s head. 

“Little sips, okay darling,” she asked. “Let’s take it easy on that stomach right now.”

“Thank you,” Pam mouthed still soundlessly. 

She then heard her mom leave the room with a, “I’ll be right down the hall of you need me!”

Pam was soon very aware of the silence in the room. She reached for her water, but decided she didn’t really even want it. Conscious of the fact that her mother would be back soon though, she attempted to bring the cup to her lips, and shakily took a minuscule sip. She swore under her breath as the cup sloshed a few drops of water on her chest. Her hands were shaky and weak, and again she felt ashamed. 

Jim had been in surgery for hours and hours when a doctor had finally brought her news that he was going to be okay. Then they brought Jim to a room and tried to pull him out of the anesthesia and couldn’t. That alone seemed like the end of the world at the time. They said he would probably wake up before the end of the week, but what if he didn’t? What if he was comatose for months? What if he never woke up and she had to raise their baby alone?

Alone... 

She had just gotten Jim. Just gotten to the place where she was confident that she’d never have to be alone again. But now... They’d taken Jim for an MRI and had found cancer in his stomach. Cancer. He was perfectly fine the day before, seemingly always healthy. It was too much. She wanted off this roller coaster of emotion. 

Pam stopped herself before she could think any farther. These were the same thoughts, the same stresses that she’d been debating for days now to no avail. There were no answers. There was no future. Only the now, with no Jim near. 

The weight of knowing that she may eventually have to support their family alone crushed her even as she sat in the darkness. 

She was a failure. Even her own body had failed her in the hospital. When her coworkers had shown up, she could barely move without reeling from the stress migraine. It was humiliating having Michael drive her home to her mother like she was a child. 

The pain in her head surged again. She couldn’t stay here anymore. She needed to go back to the hospital, back to her husband. She had to go see Jim. He was the only thing that had ever made sense in her life. 

Pam stood a little too quickly from the couch and, after letting her head settle, felt her way to the kitchen counter to scratch out a note for her mother. 

“Couldn’t sleep. Gone back to the hospital. Will call you later.”

More guilt washed over her, but she pushed it back down. She was supposed to spend the day with Cece, but she was leaving her baby for what seemed the hundredth time that week. 

Pam shook the thought from her head. She didn’t have time to deal with that right now. She had to go. Somewhere. Anywhere else. She grabbed the keys from the hook and shut the door silently behind her. 

XXX

It took Pam almost two hours to eventually arrive at the hospital. She drove the backroads of the town, procrastinating all the way, the walk into the ICU. Meanwhile, her guilty thoughts grew, shaming her with every mile. Finally, when the orange light on the horizon told her that morning had come, she gathered her courage and pulled into the hospital parking lot. 

Her legs felt like weights as she pulled them from the car and forced them to walk, walk, walk to the elevator. The ding that signaled she had arrived on her floor seemed unnaturally loud in the still, dim hallway. Did the hospital know how she was feeling? Did it know that her world was crumbling? 

She shuffled to the door, and paused. She didn’t know if she could even bring herself to look at him, unconscious in that bulky bed, wires everywhere. That wasn’t her husband. 

She inwardly decided that she wouldn’t look. She’d walk in and go straight to a chair, maybe turn the tv on to distract her from the noise in her head. She persuaded her hand to grab the door handle. Her muscles felt like lead. Then slowly, she pushed open the door. 

Even with the dawn, it was still fairly dark in the room, which was good because that way she couldn’t see Jim even if she wanted to. She could, however, see Phyllis, sleeping soundly in the chair that Pam was going to take. She hoped that Phyllis wouldn’t wake up for a while. She didn’t feel like talking. She didn’t feel like herself, not really. 

She tiptoed further in, pulling at her cardigan as the cold air whooshed around her. She had brought the fuzzy one that Jim had bought her for her last birthday. It still smelled like him from being in his car so long. That was probably why she liked it so much. 

Then, out of the heavy silence, something said her name. 

She almost came out of her sweater. 

It took her just a moment to recognize the voice, and at once all the feelings, all the insecurities, all the guilt and shame that she had been harboring the past week, came spilling out of her like vomit. 

“Jim,” she breathed, then, without waiting for an answer, threw herself onto him, immediately crumbling into tears. “I thought you were going to die,” she sobbed into his chest. “I thought you were-. And I would never-. And I just can’t do this without you,” she choked out. “And Cece-.”

“Hey. Hey,” he soothed as she sunk down off his chest onto her knees, her face buried in her hands against the sheets. She couldn’t stand anymore. The circumstances of the past week had finally come to crush her. “Pam, look at me,” she heard. “Babe, everything’s fine. Okay? I know these last few days must’ve been hell for you, but look, I’m here now, and I won’t let that happen again.”

He didn’t know. 

He didn’t know their lives were about to change. He didn’t know his death sentence. He didn’t know what had been threatening to overwhelm their marriage since even before the hospital. She had to tell him. She had to finally say the dreaded news that had been consuming her for days. 

Her whole body was convulsing with sobs, but she no longer cared. Now was the moment. 

“I’m gonna be fi-.”

“They found cancer,” she blurted out, desperately searching his eyes for a reaction. 

A whole week and that was the best she could come up with?

Jim closed his mouth as the news took root, staring without blinking back into her eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again, but again no words came. 

The heaviness had finally become too much for her to bear as she watched him come to the realization that he might not be able to carry their family anymore. She couldn’t think about that happening. She couldn’t bear to watch his undoing. Racing thoughts all came at once, so quickly that she couldn’t decide what needed to be asked now and what could wait. 

“Say something,” she begged. 

Jim stared at her still, and her heart pounded in suspense.  “Where,” he finally whispered. 

Pam desperately tried to compose herself as a weeks worth of suppressed emotions came pouring out of her mouth. 

“Stomach,” she gulped. “Stage two. They want to do chemo to shrink the tumor and then op- operate to remove it,” she stammered. 

Jim still sat silent in the darkness so she continued, whether to discuss or just to fill the emptiness, she did not know. 

“They found it when they did the MRI on your appendix after surgery,” she continued with a sniff. “I haven’t told anyone, though. Just been saying there were complications.”

Jim nodded, brow furrowed. What was he thinking? Her mind felt sluggish, like an inchworm, constantly playing catch-up, but her heart hammered inside her. She shook her head according to its beat. 

“I can’t do it. I can’t,” she said, beginning to cry again. “I can’t do it without you. I can’t be a good mom. I can’t be a good human if part of me is missing, Jim.”

Anxiety had begun to take control, and she barely noticed as Jim silently reached over to hold her shaking hand. She shouldn’t be saying any of this to him. He had enough to deal with without listening to her selfish fears. If anything she should be listening to him say these things right now. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself now that she had opened her mouth. She had to explain herself to him or the guilt would eat her alive. 

“With the chemo and the surgery you still have a 70 percent chance,” she sniffed. “But all week,” she gasped, “All I could think about was the 30 percent chance...that I don’t grow old with you,” she squeaked. 

Pam could feel her face growing red, although she doubted he could even see her. She felt humiliated at how she had acted this week, so ashamed that this is how she, a grown woman, had reacted to the news. But again she couldn’t stop herself from spilling her words. She needed to tell him everything. Jim, so far, seemed unphased, only lifting her hand and kissing her fingers, again silently. 

“I fell apart,” she choked, finally admitting her sin to him. “I wasn’t there for our daughter. I didn’t call my mother. Michael had to drive me home from the hospital. I failed, Jim,” she confessed through red, bleary eyes. 

Her heart broke to think of how he must see her now. What would he think of her failings? He was already a great man. But one thing she’d learned in their short time married was that it’s never about you. Did he think she being selfish? Did he think she making his life changing news about her? 

After several more long minutes in which Pam continued to sob into her hands, no longer able to meet his gaze, Jim moved, just barely, to the side of his bed, and reached out for her arm. She looked up as he began to pull her in beside him, and still crying, she climbed over next to him, allowing herself to weep, head on his chest, for as long as it took. 

When she finally stilled, her chest no longer heaving with gasps and sobs, he reached up to stroke her hair, eventually moving it out of her eyes. She could feel his shirt clinging to him, whether from fever or her tears she did not know. In the silence, in the dark, in the fear, she heard Jim finally speak.  

“For better or worse...I still want you,” he whispered, and kissed the top of her head. 

Instantly, relief flooded her soul and her tensed muscles finally relaxed for the first time in several days. She felt the comfort of his words wash over her, her heart becoming still in the knowledge that he was unafraid of her fear. Selfish or not, he still chooses her. Even as she inhaled, then exhaled, she felt the pain in her head begin to recede. Above her, Jim no longer moved. Maybe he’d fallen into much deserved sleep, or maybe he’d taken refuge in her touch as she had in his words. Either way, she said no more. Later on she would surely have to carry heavier things, but for now they could still happily bear their burden together. 

And together, they continued in silence until their hearts fell in rhythm, and Pam drifted back to sleep to the lullaby of a heart monitor.