stressing.
* * *
Outwardly, Peta was always a quiet girl, but she was never quiet at home or with her sisters. She was the only one of our girls who loved dolls, and she had her team of toys on many adventures. Peta’s life was a happy one. She loved being at home and always found some way to entertain herself. At four we gave her a puppy, Scrappy. He would be dressed up alongside all of her dolls and teddies and be part of Peta’s imaginary world. Even then, she loved making up stories. Peta had an astonishing awareness for things around her; she was fascinated by the movement of clouds and the insects in the garden. At four, she could tell me why E.T. had to go home. Peta could write sentences before she went to kinder, and she was reading at an early age as well. Her kindergarten teacher had to locate eighty-piece puzzles to accommodate her. Peta never had a tantrum and rarely cried — she was a happy, content, messy little girl.
At the start of year one, Peta’s new school principal came to find me. She told me to get Peta into art class. She had seen one of her drawings and said that you could not teach that sort of perspective. Even then, Peta could draw in 3-D. The next year, we moved to Canberra and put Peta into art class. She was in her element, starting with charcoal and then moving on to chalk and pastel. Peta’s love of books also grew. She read her first Harry Potter with Ellie at the age of eight. She had completed her school’s reading program by year four and then turned to the Canberra Times on a daily basis, picking and choosing the things that interested her (including the cartoons, naturally).
Peta loved life in Canberra. She was still taller than just about everyone, and quiet, but she possessed a wicked sense of humour and was very much valued by all of her classmates. As she was such a good reader, Peta was often chosen to be a presenter at school assemblies. She hated being the centre of attention, though, and couldn’t cope with being in front of everyone.
I distinctly remember watching Peta with her classmates one afternoon as I waited for the bell to ring, and thinking that this girl of mine was going to do something very special one day. I cannot explain how or why I felt that.
We moved back to Victoria for the last term of year six. The move was difficult for Peta, and for the first time she encountered bullying. We had moved to a rural area and some of the local kids took exception to this quiet, new girl. One fellow student in particular made life extremely difficult for Peta. Thankfully, the bully did not go to the secondary school that Peta went to, and life settled down again after a while.
Around the end of year eight Peta began to emerge from her shyness and show her true self and that bold personality that we knew so well. She possessed a wry sense of humour and had very strong opinions on most topics. She was extremely well-read and devoured books, particularly the classics. She loved Blackadder and most English comedies, and her favourite movie was Flying High.
Peta loved spending time with her sisters and was still enjoying her art classes. She had built some firm friendships at school and was no longer afraid to show that she knew stuff. Peta joined the debating team. She preferred to be the researcher than the presenter, but she persevered regardless.
We moved to Leongatha at the end of 2008, and Peta was happy to be living in the centre of town. She reluctantly sought a casual job and began work at the local McDonald’s, but school remained her focus. Peta loved knowledge. If she was not satisfied with what she knew about something, she would research it until she felt sure she understood it all. She would scan a dictionary for the fun of it.
* * *
Saturday 22 August 2009
Finally, the week was over and I could look forward to a visit from two of my sisters, Jud and Yome (that’s Naomi’s nickname), and my good friend Jane.
Yome and Jud kindly brought me a hot chocolate from McCafé and a goody bag full of all the essentials: Dominoes, Barrel of Monkeys, Uno, a mini-Magna Doodle and various other amusing items. The half a day they spent with me felt like one of those days when we would sit around playing board games all afternoon. When Jud and Yome left, they took Ellie back with them. She had to return to her job as a secondary school teacher, having not had a decent night’s sleep thanks to Mum’s amazing snoring skills.
A short time later Jane arrived, and we spent a pleasant afternoon talking about frivolous things to do with nothing in particular. Jane was amused and intrigued by my eating the super oily spaghetti inside a bread roll. It tastes better that way, honestly!
After Janos left (I call her Janos, or alternatively ‘the Greek Island’; ‘Janos’ does sound kind of Greek, doesn’t it?), I had yet another blood transfusion. Another patient was put into the bed to my right. This charming young girl’s name was Bec and, boy, was she a ripper. She had meningitis and kept complaining that she wasn’t allowed out for a smoke. She had only just turned sixteen. Her family stayed for about half an hour before leaving her to read trashy teen mags and complain about missing the weekend’s parties, and the fact that the doctors had done a lumbar puncture right in the middle of her crucifix tattoo. The poor dear! Eventually, after talking about her ‘terrible’ health problems that couldn’t possibly be outdone by anything, she eventually ran out of things to say and finally asked me why I was in hospital. I just smiled, I suppose as a way of stopping myself from laughing, and Mum, who had been enjoying Bec’s amusing company just as much as I had, simply stated, ‘Peta has leukaemia.’ Bec, unsure how to respond, said, ‘Oh.’ Ha, take that, Bec! Didn’t think anything could be worse than meningitis, did you?
Moving on from my wholesome bed buddy, Sunday was a lovely day. Jud rang Mum to say that she and Ellie were going to clean my incredibly filthy bedroom. I thought this was awesome! I mean, who actually likes cleaning their room? I almost always find creepy bugs or enormous spiders of some kind, and I most definitely do not get along with creepy crawlies. They make me itch. It’s a psychological thing, I suspect. Coz I’m special.
Anyway, so while they were all at home back in Leongatha, Mum and I chilled in the hospital, enjoying Bec’s lovely company and waiting around for Madeline and some of my friends to visit. Eventually Mad and my friends Claire, Bronte, Joel and Emma (with her boyfriend Brendan tagging along) arrived. We went up to the Education/Rumpus area. Some played pool — I didn’t, for the personal safety of the others. I was talking to Emma and Claire when my old friend Caroline arrived. This was a monumental occasion — I hadn’t seen Caroline since we were in grade two, when I moved from Melbourne to Canberra. We had found each other on MySpace and Facebook months beforehand and become friends again. Seeing Caroline for the first time in nine years was very exciting, if a little weird. Imagine catching up with your best friend from when you were eight with an audience of complete strangers (for Caroline). Awkward!
After a pleasant few hours, eventually everyone left, including Mum, who had to go back to Gatha (this is the ‘hip’ — read: lazy — way of saying ‘Leongatha’) for some reason, leaving me to a nice quiet night of television watching. Needless to say, I had no problem with that.
* * *
Monday 24 August 2009
The next day everything picked back up to a ridiculously fast pace. Ugh, Monday. Monday meant lots of people having tests and various procedures done, with nurses running around like mad, trying to keep up with what the patients wanted. I felt quite sorry for them as I sat on my bed, reading magazines and contemplating the world all by myself. One of the doctors came by with a heavy stack of information on leukaemia and dates for appointments. Boy, did she have a lot to say. All of it went in one ear and straight out the other. If you’re going to hit with me information, do it slowly, and make sure I’m hydrated enough to keep up! Listening truly is a sport sometimes. Some days it can take about as much effort as running a marathon! Eventually she left me to absorb whatever it was she had just told me. By the
