First of all, I am sorry. Second, I must thank Josie, Livy, Talita and Aleisha for being here when I needed. It is frustrating how sad this fic is. I must warn you that a main character dies, so do not read it if you don't like this fact.
Ductal adenocarcinoma, NOS (not otherwise specified);
A malignant tumour derived from ductal epithelia, with randomly arranged epithelial elements, variable necrosis, in situ carcinoma (WHO);
Patient: William Paul Gardner – 84 years; Final Stage of Ductal Adencarcinoma also known as Pancreatic Cancer.
Caused by mutation of gene BRCA2 (MIM 600185), provided by a breast cancer in a relative (not particularly mother).
At first, it was diagnosed as Malabsorption Syndrome, diagnosed as well by patient's history of back ache, loss of appetite and loss of weight.
A treatment based on diet and multi-vitamins pills – No responses; an abdominal RX confirmed cancer in second to third stage.
A chemotherapy treatment was administered through a year, no positive effects.
Approximately six months of life.
Patient has visited the doctor ever since his first appointment, every second Saturday of every month.
Did not accept experimental treatments.
Familiar support was constant – Sometimes exceeded the acceptable limit.
On 2020, February 25th: Did not attend to appointment.
- Motive: Daughter in law had a child.
Breakdown on 2031, September 20th.
- Motive: Loss of a friend.
Patient came to the hospital this afternoon: Diagnosis –
Strong back aches; can't breathe; spams.
Final stage of pancreatic cancer – Pancreas is not working, a catheter insert on patient's belly to filter the blood. Exams results: Organs starting to fail. (URGENT! Patient needs attention for occasional breakdowns/death).
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Maybe outside it was a warm spring day, not too cold, not too hot. Warm and cozy. Just the way they liked.
But there, behind those pastel blue walls, in room 334, it wasn't. The AC was on, she was sitting on the sofa, half asleep – half awake, his peaceful snoring on her ear.
The machine sounds.
On the other side of his bed, a dresser, a flower pot with three different flowers.
Colorful flowers – a red, a yellow and a cyan one.
His hand over hers, the finger clip and the wires going up his arm, a needle with some medication on his inner elbow, a white sheet and an icy toned blanket over him. But they were in the most relaxed, in the deepest sleep Grace could've ever spotted them on.
She smiled – maybe she could come back later. April missed him.
Two and half hours later, she woke up, his still so cute snoring echoing around the room, those beeps insisted harshly to get through her brain. She stood up, slowly – those legs have spent too many hours on high heels and now, years and years later, those calves were tired. Walking two steps to the right, she pushed the sofa back to its original place, going back with those two lingering steps to her husband.
His face was warm, pink cheeks - almost magenta – She cupped one. But soon her hand roamed his face, going up to his forehead, getting rid of those white strands of hair.
Time has passed so fast since that day – since the twenty fifth of February, twenty fifteen.
The day they finally got married. The day she felt everything was going back to its place. She would never forget that day, forty two years ago. She kissed his forehead – he smelled like Spike. It had been days since Zach took Spike to the hospital to visit them.
Oh, the day they got Spike – she'd even told Will how silly that name sounded, but the dog couldn't stop whining and jumping at Will's chest. The huge mutt. They bought him before moving to Coast Guard Beach, right after Will retired.
Three years before Diane died – she'd still looked elegant and classy, in that opponent black casket. She still looked as majestic as she had the first time she arrived at Lockhart/Gardner's offices, so long ago.
She remembers how she found him crying on the porch, looking at the waves crashing down. He was crying lowly, trying to pretend she wouldn't find out until later – but she did find him there, in the rocking chair, grieving silently, that stubborn old man swallowing in all the pain. But she was there, and when she stood him up, holding his hands to help him- his back aches grew stronger.
She had hugged him, so tight, his weak arms making a tremendous effort to hold her. A couple weeks later he went back to the hospital.
And now, here they were.
She smiled, glad he was still asleep. Then, with tiny steps she walked out of the room, down the hallway, to find some tea. Or maybe some coffee – people greeted her all the way, she stopped to visit Candice, that little child with some virus a few doors down.
She wasn't afraid of simple ailments like viruses. Not anymore.
"DOCTOR STEIN, ROOM 334. DOCTOR STEIN, URGENT PATIENT IN ROOM 334."
Room 334. Room. 3.3.4.
No, it couldn't be. She waited, staring at the white stripes on the blue wall, for the nurse to call it again, say it again but this time – Room 324. Or 344.
"DOCTOR STEIN ROOM 334, PATIENT NEEDS ASSISTANCE RIGHT NOW. DOCTOR STEIN…"
The sound…Just…
Faded away, disappeared.
And before even getting to the café bar, she came back. Running – big steps, even bigger than her legs felt they could muster. Panting, the way seemed so longer than it actually was.
He was almost falling off of his bed – when he tried to turn around to his left side to reach the alarm button. She almost got him on the floor, he sighed when she placed him back, when she placed his head on her legs.
He was having spasms and giving deep gasps, trying to catch some air – his face was a little blue, his lips a little too white.
"Baby, hold on, hold on Will. Hey, Grace is coming, remember? She's bringing April, your granddaughter, hey, look at me. Look at me, Will."
"Alicia," he gasped, his nostrils flaring and his eyes catching her own, "I can't breathe…"
"Will, no – breathe, calm down." She stared at the door frantically, and no one came. "Calm down, don't worry…SOMEONE, HELP! MY HUSBAND CAN'T BREATHE, I NEED HELP!"
His voice came out with a harsh gasp, in a whisper.
"Ever since Georgetown."
"What? Will, shut up and breathe, dear," she almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness, and her hands were on his cheeks, maintaining his head at a higher angle.
"I said…ever since Georgetown…remember? The other voice-mail?"
"It doesn't matter right now, honey-"
He cuts her off mid-sentence. His hand floats lethargically in direction of her face, and when he gets there, his thumb caresses her cheek, teardrops cleaned with weathered skin.
"I said that I probably loved you – ever since Georgetown." Another gasp, "Now you know…"
She can't do it – she is not strong enough. She cries, tears rolling down her face, dropping down onto her peach sweater. He smiles at her, wrinkles on his eyes. Dimples on his cheeks.
He's still so charming.
"Hey gorgeous, don't cry...You're a warrior princess. My warrior princess. Can't cry like that. Feels good, you know?"
He blinked slowly, the next words coming out after some seconds, ones that passed like a lifetime.
"I don't feel pain anymore."
Beep.
His thumb caressed one more time, than his arm hit the mattress, hard.
A nurse chooses that opportune moment to finally show up at the door, but the only audible sound in the room is the long and annoying beep. The one that starts and never stops, until someone turns the machine over.
Until it is over.
She kissed his lips – her nose caressed his face, she smelled his hair. It smelled like home.
She whispered to him, in his cooling ear. Even as Doctor Stein and three other nurses tried to wake him up, she didn't let him go, still nearly resting in her lap.
"I have probably loved you ever since Georgetown too, William."
A voice she knows comes screaming from the hallway – a little one's voice. She enters the room in a pink dress, those blue big eyes and that curly hair. She stopped at the door when she saw the amount of people up on her granddaddy.
She was followed by three known voices, as well.
Peter's, Zach's and Grace's whom were chatting about economy and such.
Until they got there – Until they saw that.
It was sad, you know? How everything ended.
Then silent.
People stopped rushing, Stein stopped pushing his chest.
Time of death: 6:12 pm.
April held Will's hand– Peter was there, his face denoted respect and sadness. He bowed down his head out of respect. Zach held April – whispered to his dad something then whisked the little girl away. And there was Grace, astonished, walking scared little steps inside the room, put her hand on Will's chest, met her mother's eyes.
Then, Grace cried.
Grace cried with a hand on his heart.
And even though outside was a beautiful, golden, spring day –
Behind those pastel blue walls, it was cold.
I am still sorry, so, show me your thoughts, did you like it? Do you want to kill me? Because I do want to kill me for creating it.