Lavender Smile

I was only 13 when my sister was diagnosed to be having the third stage breast cancer. Dad did not cry in the doctor’s room, not at the hospital, but his face showed everything. Deep inside, his heart sank in tears. All of us cannot accept the fact that what mum had suffered 10 years ago, will now be suffered by my elder sister. I kept telling myself, ‘Lavender is so young. She can’t and she won’t die from cancer. I won’t let her die’. But those words did not really help. I cried when I noticed dad cried so hard in front of the TV. It was his favorite football match on the screen and for the first glimpse, I thought he was watching. He was not. He was crying, imagining how painful and difficult Lavender’s life would be.
Everything started at one night in April. Lavender and I was surfing the internet together. Well, yes, it was always the YouTube that got our attention. And the ‘Limewire’ as well. Lavender was so into Jason Mraz and she asked me to download some of his songs. She stood straight behind me but I didn’t realize that. As I finally finished downloading, I quickly turned back, hoping to tell her about the songs when my elbow suddenly knocked her chest as she was just behind me. She screamed out in pain and I just didn’t know what to do. I kept on telling her that I didn’t see her and I was so sorry but she was really in pain. Dad entered our room and discovered Lavender trembling on the floor. I knew that such knock could be quite painful to young ladies like me and Lavender but why does it seem to be so severe for Lavender? What is wrong with my sister? Those questions ran down my brain as I sat still at the clinic. Dad was beside me. He asked me what had happen and the knock story was revealed. Dad didn’t say anything. Not a single word. Things happen.


Dr Jessica Page invited Dad into her room and I was left at the waiting area. At that moment, I didn’t know their discussion and Lavender’s condition and I took that leaving as a kind of payback from God to me. But after that, Dad really explained everything to me. Dr Jessica Page looked grave. She told Dad and Lavender about the lump, make it lumps protruding on Lavender’s chest and armpit. ‘But cancer won’t be painful…’ Lavender looked straight to Dr Page’s eyes. ‘It would if it is in the later stages’. Her eyes were apologizing to her because the answer was extremely disappointing. Dad stared at the floor. His mind was filled with mum’s memory. The pain she’s gone through left inerasable scars to his heart. He was upset and he could feel the anger and tense in him. Lavender’s blue eyes were filled with tears. Dr Page asked for a mammogram as quickly as possible. Everything was done immediately.
I once asked Lavender, ‘Did you feel any pain before that night when the accident occurred? Or you just started feeling it right after that?’ Lavender looked out the window and answered, ‘I did feel before that. But the book said it was normal for girl like us. It was supposed to be the puberty syndrome.’


The next day, Dr Page told Dad and Lavender that there is an abnormality and they need to do a biopsy. Lavender cried hard. Dad hugged her quickly. I was at the door, standing. I heard dad saying ‘if your mother can face it, you can do better than her, cup cake… trust me’. I looked down. I didn’t remember the feelings in me. I felt as if I can’t breathe, as if the air was not enough and all I got was the air in my chest. The news made me feel trembled and I gradually sat on the floor. ‘I can’t lose my sister. I’ve lost my mother. Oh God, don’t take my Lavender from me’ Dr Page was speechless. She held Lavender’s hand.
The next few days seemed to be more emotionally unstable for the three of us. Dad asked for his annual leaves from his employer. Every evening witnessed Lavender’s cry and her dreadful pain put me into tears as well. But tough Lisa never cried in front of Lavender. I always ran to the back of the verandah and had quite a good cry there. After that, I will go back to kitchen and prepare some porridge for my beautiful Lavender. Dad was quite disturbed in the first few days. He didn’t watch his favorite football anymore. He sat still on the red sofa, holding mum’s picture and gazed at the ceiling. I can feel his emptiness. Everyone was so sad and weak. Dad was haunted by mum’s death. Lavender was haunted by her own death.


I slept beside Lavender every night and woke up every morning with a scary question ‘Is Lavender still alive?’ I still remember the morning when I was told that mum was dead. It traumatized me until now.
Outside, the breeze of May was quite cold. Minnesota is bustling like everyday. But deep inside us, everything has totally paused. Cold like the windy air. Empty like mum’s wardrobe. Silent like in my school’s library. Lavender was taken to the hospital for a needle biopsy. While waiting outside, dad told me that the procedure was so painful. Small teenager like Lavender would never stand the ache. ‘She will cry’ and after that, Dad will looked up and closed his eyes, hoping that the tears won’t run down his face. But I saw the tears. It’s not on his face. I saw the tears inside him. The tumor was located under the armpit as well and the ordeal to take the samples seemed to torture Lavender. Her blue eyes were again filled with tears. Days later, the results confirmed that it was cancer, a persistent type. We were asked to meet Dr Linda Bartleby, a breast cancer surgeon. ‘ It is at the third stage, Mr. Gaines. There are not many options to be chosen. Usually, it’s either operation or chemo.’


Lavender was later passed to the oncologist, Dr Steven J. Thompson, who will decide the treatment for her. Dr Thompson and Dr Bartleby together with their team seemed to have quite a number of discussions. I let them do their part. I did my part. I went home and tide up everything, changed the bed sheet, arranged the spoons and plates on the dining table, cleaned up the living room and packed up some cross-stitch stuff and magazines for Lavender. She always told me that the hospital mood was really boring. Dad was doing his part too. He was always there for both of us. Dad went to the bank for quite a number of times. Well, someone needs to pay the hospital bills. The cancer treatments were not only torturing our Lavender, but torturing me and dad too.


At the ward, Lavender was not happy. The aggressive chemotherapy was killing her slowly. She needed to undergo the chemotherapy first before the mastectomy in order to reduce the size of the tumors and prevent them from spreading. Lavender was so ill. The chemotherapy was far crueler than I thought, it seized Lavender’s golden hair, and her weight, and her smiles from her. It seized Lavender from her. Lavender was so like mother. She got blue eyes and golden hair and so does Lavender. I was the black sheep in the family. I got auburn hair and green eyes. Those are not really from dad but dad said I resembled his late sister, Luna. Lavender received 3 highly potent liquid drugs in bags. The fourth bag was an antiemitic to relieve vomiting. At first, she looked so hard to breath with those wires of drugs streams all around her.
The effects of the drugs appeared more significant after a few days. She was so weak, physically and emotionally. The drugs were killing her healthy cells as well. She was so tired. We were all tired. Lavender looked really like mum now. Dad spent more money to buy nutritious and nourishing food for every one of us and especially for Lavender as she needed to gain back her energy and strength. But Lavender cannot eat. She kept on vomiting every bite she had and she cried every time she ate. She told me, exhaustedly, that her throat was so painful and dry. Lavender’s golden hair didn’t fall much after the first session of chemo but after that, there goes her dry golden hair. Every time I comb her hair, I can make wool of hair with them.

Dr Bartleby told us that Lavender’s immune system was weakening. She needed daily injections to boost back the development of her white cells. She cannot do anything. Her pale body was helpless. I hold her hands and whispered to dad, ‘I miss her red hands…’ The chemotherapy was really taking its toll on her. The third round of therapy weakened her so much. Our Lavender was so blue and fragile. She was dehydrated and was given continuous fluids. However, one morning in early June was such a joyful moment for us as Lavender showed a little improvement. She can smile to us as we entered the ward. Lavender looked different. She was completely bald and needed to wear a beret to hide her pale bald head. One day she smiled at me and said ‘ I heard that Britney wore beret too when she was bald’ She laughed. And I laughed too.


In September, the mastectomy was completely done and Lavender looked very difficult to accept the fact that she now had only one breast. She was only 18 and she had only one breast. The fact killed her motivation faster than the chemo and the mastectomy. Dr Thompson and Bartleby insisted Lavender to undergo a string of treatment as the chances for the cancer to reoccur is higher if it has reached the third stage. Lavender didn’t think much. She didn’t talk much, especially after the mastectomy. She chooses chemotherapy and bone marrow transplant. Dad was really depressed. ‘When will this end?’ He asked the doctor helplessly. ‘We are doing our best. So does our Lavender. She will be strong if she saw your strength, Gaines.’ Dr Bartleby’s answer ran straight to my heart.
Again, the chemo put her in the unbearable pain and we needed to prepare ourselves to lose our Lavender again. She received high-dosage chemotherapy so as to kill all potentially cancerous cells. It was already November when the treatment started. As I sat beside her bed and stared at her pale face, I realized that when God gave her the disease, He was not torturing her, he was not torturing me and Dad. He was showing His love and His mercy. Lavender could have died yesterday and everything will go back to the usual but He didn’t take her. She was still there for us and we were still there for her, at that moment. She was there not really because she needed us but she was there because I needed her. And dad needed her. We all needed her.


The next few days witnessed her to be, again, entirely weak. She vomited and suffered from diarrhoea. She looked dizzy and half-unconscious even though her eyes were opened. On December 25, 2005, I and dad were having our quick dinner at home before moving back to the hospital when dad received an emergency call from Dr Bartleby. Lavender’s body temperature was so high that she suddenly got epilepsy. It was really unexpected and she was unconscious after she received the injection for the sudden epilepsy. The phone call changed dad’s face. We quickly reached the hospital and waited outside the emergency room. Dad stopped every nurse that walked out of the room but they were really in emergency situation and none of them can tell us what was happening. ‘Maybe it’s because of the high-dosage and she just can’t stand the metabolism…. maybe it’s because of the bone marrow transplant procedure… she’s just….’ Dad walked here and there talking to himself like crazy. I don’t disapprove his actions. He needed it. Those words were just to help him comforting his own heart.


After a long wait, Dr Bartleby came out from the room together with Dr Thompson. Dad looked straight to their eyes. Dr Linda Bartleby walked straight to me. She hugged me and whispered, ‘I saw her smiling. Lavender smiled at her end…’ As the two doctors talked personally to dad, I stared at everything around me but I saw nothing. There were so many sounds but I heard nothing. My eyes were blurred by some unknown fluids that came from nowhere and I found myself crying so hard after that. Dad was unable to stand anymore. He felt as if there were 2 big heavy rocks placed on his two shoulders. Dad was so sad. 10 years ago, he lost his beloved wife, now; he lost his daughter, for the same cruel cancer. Dad came to me and hugged me and I tied my hands strongly behind his back. In my heart, I repeatedly thanked God for giving me, at least, a dad to go on with whatever left in my life. To Lavender, ‘you did it! Girl, mum must be proud of you. I know you will make quite a good living somewhere up there.’


Today, December 25, 2008. Lavender’s golden hair, blue eyes and puffy face can only be seen in pictures. In front of the computer, downloading an old song, it really reminds me to Lavender and her sweet smile like those lavenders during springs. I really miss my Lavender and her ‘lavender smiles’.

I’m a big big girl
in a big big world
it’s not a big big thing if u leave me
but I do do feel that I do do will miss u much

I can see da first leave falling
it’s all yellow and nice
it’s so very cold outside like the way I’m feeling inside

outside its now raining
and tears are falling from my eyes
why did it have to happen
why did it all have to end?

I have your arms around me
wooh like fire
but when I open my eyes
you are gone