Page 18 of It's Just You

“Okay?” I asked when he stopped moving. Usually, if he got up, he could walk and deal with his bathroom issues himself, but today, he seemed to be unable to do anything alone. This was definitely getting worse. Damn.

I swallowed hard, fighting tears. It hurt to see him like this, to see his pain, his struggles, his inability to do what he wanted. He was too young to be this sick and helpless.

“Yeah. I’m okay. Help me get up. I can take it from there.” He didn’t sound convincing at all, but I wanted to let him keep as much autonomy as possible.

“Right. I’ll wait here while you go to the bathroom, then we’ll get you ready.”

He nodded then made his way across the room, looking unsteady on his feet. I prepared myself to jump to his aid, but he managed with minimal stumbling.

Rubbing a hand over my face, I stared at the closed bathroom door, feeling my own exhaustion down to my bones. God, how long were we supposed to keep this up? Not just the pretense that he was fine as long as Sam was home, but the general care, too. He needed more and more help, was getting worse and worse, and one day, I simply wouldn’t be able to do everything he needed.

Without a diagnosis and a treatment plan, we were stuck in this cycle, watching my dad age at a rapid rate.

I couldn’t stay at home all the time; I had to work. His disability checks weren’t much, and my mom’s retirement fund didn’t pay out all that much either. But Mom couldn’t take care of him physically when I wasn’t around, which made it harder to go to work each day. What the fuck should we do? I didn’t know.

When Dad emerged from the bathroom, he was a little steadier, but I could see the pain in his face. He had good days and bad days, and this was definitely going to be a bad one.

Maybe it would be better for him to claim a headache and lie down for the morning. Sam would probably leave before long anyway, and it would be better for Dad to stay in bed until his pain meds kicked in.

Decision made, I pointed back at the bed. “Go lie back down. I’ll tell Sam you were up too late and you’re sleeping in,” I told him.

He looked startled at first, then he frowned at me. “I barely get to see him as it is,” he said. “I want to get up and catch up with him.”

“I know, but you can barely move,” I pointed out. “What are you going to say, that you’re so sore because you went on a long hike yesterday?”

He flinched, and I immediately regretted my words. It had been a long time since we’d gone outdoors together, since we’d gone on hikes together, and he was just as aware as I was of the lost time.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant, it’s hard to excuse it as something else.”

“You mean as something other than we don’t know,” he said, and for the first time in a while, his voice sounded bitter. It wasn’t surprising. All this time with all these symptoms, with no diagnosis or real treatment in sight… It had to be wearing down on him even more than it was on us, and I felt guilty all over again.

“They’ll figure it out,” I said, but I wished I could put more conviction into my voice. “Then come on. Let’s get you your meds, get you dressed, and we can eat in the living room so you can sit in your comfy chair.”

Dad nodded. As much as he was hurting, he still did as much as he could on his own. I knew he was embarrassed and ashamed for me to see him like this, but even if we could afford to hire a nurse, that would be even worse. I had to be enough.

I had to be strong enough for both of us.

After he was dressed, we headed downstairs. Mom already had a glass of water and his pain meds ready, and he downed them quickly. They’d at least help relieve some of the tension in his joints, if nothing else, and hopefully they’d make it possible for him to at least act normal.

God, how fucking long were we going to pretend everything was okay? We didn’t have to let Sam stay home from college even if he wanted to. We could obviously handle it, Mom and me together, and Sam could continue living the life he wanted. There was no need for all of us to sit at home all the time.

Still, I couldn’t deny that there was a selfish part of me that wished he would find out and come home so I could try to have a life outside of working, outside of always being responsible for someone or something. It was selfish, so fucking selfish, and it wasn’t fair to either of my parents. I ducked my head, trying to hide my shame.

Mom and Dad had taken care of me when I’d been a baby, when I’d been sick, when I’d been utterly helpless. It wasn’t like he’d chosen to be ill. It was my turn to return the favor.

By the time we were settled, with me at the kitchen table and my parents in the living room, Sam came bounding down the stairs.

“Morning!” He smiled broadly, oblivious to the struggles Dad had gone through already just to keep Sam’s world intact.

“Morning,” I replied, though my words came out flat. I was too tired to pretend to match his good mood.

Sam either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He went into the kitchen, fixed a cup of coffee and a bagel, then returned to sit across from me. “What’s up? You’re all so quiet.” Before I could reply, though, he was stuffing his mouth. “What are you all up to?” he asked around the bite of food.

“Can you talk or eat instead of doing both at the same time?” I asked. Hadn’t he learned anything?

“Wow, touchy today.” Sam stuck his tongue out at me, but then continued to eat in silence, thankfully. I couldn’t deal with a bratty younger brother today. “You heading to work later?” he asked after he’d swallowed the bite of bagel.

I nodded. “Yeah, afternoon shift.”

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