One Of Life's Great Ironies

by strawberrycheese1990

It's three years after Ruth's suicide attempt the question is, is her will to live greater now then it was back then. A better intro inside. Some Ruth and Jay towards the end.

Hey, ok just some background on this fic. I wrote it a couple of months ago after re-watching the episodes about Ruth's suicide attempts, so I hope that I someone somewhere will remember them enough to actually understand what I going on about.

I wrote this about 3 in the morning, and so the medical details are not researched it's just my background knowledge, so I apologise if there are inaccuracies.

I hope you enjoy.

P.s There will be a little bit of Ruth/jay in here, because well they are meant to be together.

Disclaimer: I don't on casualty or any of the characters.

Looking around I couldn't help but appreciate the irony of it all. The same room, the same surgeon. The same disease. The only thing different is that it's 3 years later. This time I didn't deliver some test results to the wrong person, and somehow manage to make an unlikely friend, no this time, I'm the patient. Rachel would have liked the irony of it I think, probably would have found it funny, and at times I would agree. At others, where did life go so wrong?

So here I am contemplating life's great ironies and intricacies, I probably should be concerned more about the near fatal diagnosis I've just received. Stage 3 brain cancer with metastases in the lymph nodes – chance of survival with extensive treatment, about 30%. Well that's certainly something that changed in the last 3 years.

The only question now is do I want treatment. I think it over, weigh out the pro's and con's, but it basically comes down to whether I have more will to live than I did 3 years ago. Is death still considered a sweet, sweet relief or have I got something to stay for no. You know I'm not quite sure.

Sarah will be back soon and I know I have to give her an answer. It briefly passes through my mind to say yes, just so I'll be around to annoy her for a bit longer. It's easy to tell that she's not entirely happy to have me as her patient after the whole surgeon / Dr. Fauldren debacle. Especially with me collapsing and bleeding out on the floor of the surgeons dinner.

But really is that the only reason that I have to stick around a petty idea revenge when it's really my fault anyway. I didn't have to do all that she asked, however much she played on my fears and my ambition. I didn't have to follow.

You know I don't think this has sunk in yet. I mean here I am in yet another hospital bed, looking back I seem to spend a lot of time as a patient here, but anyway that's not the point. What I mean id that I'm not crying, not scared, I'm not really anything. I'm just here writing in my diary, quite calmly, and only a tad distracted.

The histology report is lying next to me. I glance at the name. It trigger happy memories of the time in the dark lab; the laptop playing random songs. One of the few places I felt like I belonged. I wonder if he recognised my name as he put my slide under the microscope. I wonder if he cared. Maybe I'll go and see him Dr. Doom, and the rest of the gang of course. Yeah I think it might be time for another trip to the histology lab. I wonder if it's changed that much.

Sarah's back and it looks like she brought a friend. A Dr Mess from Oncology, a member of the one group of people that no-one ever wants to meet, especially when you're a patient. I wonder how they deal with it - every day, the bad news the pain, the suffering. At least in the ED, you got some good moments, some light moments and not everyone is in a life-threatening condition. At least on occasion at the ED you can go home feeling as if you did something good today. I might have to ask him, if I ever get the courage. I won't bore you with the details, but I basically had two choices; yes or no. I said yes. For the life of me I can't work out why, but obviously I'm not quite willing to let go just let.

He said I should bring someone with me, for my sessions. That it's not something I should go through alone, but could I even think about asking. Maggie left, Harry's gone. Tess, well maybe, she'll have to know anyway what with work and anything, Adam as well I suppose. Toby, oh god I actually wish he was here. I really should call him when I get out, we haven't spoken in a while and it would be great to talk to him again. Hear him prattle on about the life of a GP and living with Ben. He can always make me laugh.

Jay..Oh god I wish. I know now what Rachel meant, and just how right she was. I think her exact words were 'You shouldn't be here, there should be some fine young man sitting there,' and she's right. There should be some fine young man sitting there; holding my hand, telling me everything is gonna be alright, that we'll get through it together and then make some rubbish joke that I just can't help but laugh at, like I have done so many times before.

But as usual I messed up. I didn't listen to Rachel; I scared away the one good thing in my life. The best relationship I've ever had, with anyone, and now I'm here paying the price. My career is not such a comfort to me, whilst I'm sitting here in this hospital bed. Why didn't I listen. I could have a boyfriend and a baby at my side, not thin air and empty spaces. Another one of life's regrets I suppose. I seem to have a lot of them, and I can't help but start thinking that maybe it would have been better if Toby and Abs didn't knock on my door that night.

I want to go to work, but I know that throwing myself into my work will do no good not to me or my patients. So I go for a walk, not far just wandering round, I end up by the river, at the bench that I haven't been to in years not since I broke Rachel free for an afternoon and we took in the sights. I made her laugh that day, something I've never been able to do, well not unless they were laughing at me. I was happy I could give her that, that I wasn't a total cold fish. I feel my silent tears fall down my cheeks as I just watched and remembered. Something I learned as a child, no matter how much pain you're in, and how much you just want to curl up into a ball and sob, never make a sound. It will only make it worse. Don't let them see that they got to you. Don't give them the satisfaction.

Maybe it's time to re-think that rule. I have broken it a couple of times in the past, with Dominic and Jay, both have seen me at my worse at my most vulnerable. Maybe if I let a couple of others in I wouldn't die totally alone in the same room as Rachel.

Sitting there I remember her asking, no begging that would someone, anyone help her get over her fear of death, and I see what she means. Three years ago I told her not to fear death but I realise now that I had control. I said when, where and how. This is just so uncertain, yes I have percentages and estimated times, but I can't say, 'oh, if I'm gonna die, then I want it to be on this day at this time and by this means. That's what' frightening, as for the what after, I just need to get my head round the present before I think much about what's ahead.

I finally worked up the courage to go to the histology lab today. I don't know what was so special about today. Maybe it's because my first chemo session tomorrow, or maybe because every lab report I had today had his name on it. I'm not sure, but still at 4o'clock exactly I knocked on the door to that lab once again.

It hadn't changed much, which was nice to see. The gang still work there, and they greeted me like I long lost friend. It felt nice, like someone cared for me, no matter in how small a way. They even played a couple of Rod Stewart songs for me. I can't believe they remembered. It was awkward with Dom to begin with. The last time I saw him I shouted at him ad to get out of my life, but that soon went away, and my inner geek was soon, once again, out to play.

I regretted not keeping in touch with them or at least popping in to say hello, but they didn't seem to hold it against me. I think I'm defiantly gonna be seeing them again. I wish I could get Jay to meet them, they would get on amazing, all geeks at heart in their own ways. Me included.

I went for coffee with Dom actually. Turns out he did recognise my name on that slide. He knew. We talked about it, it was good. I didn't realise just how much I needed to just tell someone about it all. I didn't mind telling him, I've cried on his shoulder before. He used to know me better than I knew myself at times, and it hadn't changed even after a couple of years have passed. It was good.

I seemed to be on a roll, I even rang Toby. We had a good catch up, he said that he'll be back in Holby soon, hopefully we'll be able to catch up. I tried to tell him, but I just couldn't get the words out. He was just so happy about the holiday that him and Ben had just been on. I couldn't ruin that, could I. I know I'm not know for my ability to be tactful but even I know I couldn't tell him over the phone, and anyway how on earth do I even begin to tell him or anyone. I can just imagine how that conversation would go. 'Oh hi, how are you? That's good. Me, oh I'm fine, well except that I have cancer. So anyway what have you been up to?' Yeah I don't really see that working myself, do you? I'll tell him later. If there's time, I'll tell him later.

Everything they say about Chemotherapy, it's true. In fact I think I'm being nice. Three weeks in and I already feel as sick as a dog. I've lost weight, have no appetite, no energy, I'm constantly tired, and to top it all off my balance is shot, I've never realised just how hard it is to stay standing.

I said I could get through this that I wouldn't complain, that it was my choice to go down this route. That moaning wouldn't do anything, but...but it's just so hard. Sitting here attached to the machine, that pumps me full of stuff that immediately feels sick, and I sit there for three hours, alone, when the rest of the room have someone holding their hand and attempting to keep up the distraction to varying degrees of success. At least their trying, it's more than what I have.

Many a time I close my eyes and imagine Jay here with me. Or Toby even Tess but mainly Jay. He's holding my hand, rubbing his knuckles along my permanently cold hands, telling me about what he and the lads has been up to, and his latest prank in the ED. I imagine him telling me how when we get home he's gonna tuck me up on the sofa, and make me dinner. Most likely beans on toast or spaghetti but I wouldn't care cause he made it for me. We would sit in front of the rubbish even television, or just sit and talk, until I fall asleep in his arms like I have many times before.

I don't know if you can tell but I've started to accept it now. I have cancer and the chances are that I won't survive, but I've learnt to take each day as it comes. To not think what if as much as possible, I just need to get through each day. Quite a few years ago, I wrote about the day in the life of an F2, so here is the day in the life of an ED doc with cancer.

7am – Wake up. Can't do the early shift anymore it's too difficult to wake up before 7, even then I still wish I could sleep longer.

7.30 – Showered and dressed, trying unsuccessfully to not succumb to the nausea and dizziness. Force down some orange juice. No tea or coffee, it suppresses the appetite, not that I really need any help in that department.

7.45-Leave house, catch the bus; praying for a seat.

8.30-Make my way to the ED. Trying not to retch at the smells that are always present.

9am – Start work. Cubicles only. Resus is too hectic and it's not safe for me or the patients for me to treat them. Go through about a gallon of alcohol gel and antiseptic in a vain hope of warding off infection. I know that I will have to give up work soon. It's near impossible to work in a place like this with a suppressed immune system.

2pm- Finish work. Usually end up having a nap in the on-call room.

4-7pm - Monday, Wednesday and Friday – chemo. The rest of the week, go home. Occasionally meet up with the gang from the lab.

9pm – Bed asleep

So this is it. Compare the differences.

Weeks pass, more tests and scans, another appointment with Sarah. She wants to consider surgery. The chemo has managed to shrink the tumour in my brain, and now it's safe to operate. I'll still need chemo for the metastases but it would increase my chances, a bit. This time there's no decision, I say yes straight way. I've come this far, I will make Rachel proud. I was wrong not to listen before but if I get a second chance, well technically a third chance I will show her that I listened. I will go and live the life she was on about for her and for me. And maybe if I am lucky enough to get another chance, I will get my fine young man back again. Maybe. Hopefully, I wish.

So here I am back in the same room again, and once again the roles are reversed. Here's me scared out of my wits, with some young doctor trying to comfort me while all the while practically hopping round the room, overjoyed at getting to assist. God, I was insensitive just like Rachel said, but like her I can see the funny side of it.

I just blank the doctors out and concentrate in this. I know the procedure inside and out I've read every textbook, seen every film, and even assisted on a couple myself but it doesn't stop the thought running through my head, over and over again. Thinking over the risks and just what could go wrong and what the consequences would be.

Sarah's come to get me prepped. She said she'll look after this for me, while I'm under so I'll see you in the other side. I hope.

Sarah Evans had hoped she wouldn't see Dr Winters again. The girl just didn't have what it took to be a surgeon and that was without all the other drama that seems to go hand in hand with the young surgeon. So when she walked in and saw Ruth lying in a hospital bed once again, she couldn't help but let out an audible sigh, but it wasn't long before the experienced surgeon couldn't help but feel for the young doctor in her care, who just couldn't seem to catch a break.

She had watched as her former prodigy had endured this all alone. Something that she knew that she wouldn't have been able to do. She had seen her scribbling in that blue book on numerous occasions, throughout this ordeal and had a very good idea about what it contained, that's why she said she'll keep it safe for Ruth, but she wasn't being entirely truthful.

Instead while her patient was being prepped she to the diary down to the ED, spotting her prey she called him and simply said 'Read it now. February of this year on-wards, and tell no-one.'

'But, what?'

'Now, you'll regret if you don't. I'll be back to collect it in a few hours.' And then she was gone, back to her patient lying on the operating table. Not having a Mr. Evans may not make her a better surgeon, but as she said before Ruth is no surgeon. The reverse is also true.

Light blinding light was the first thing that Ruth registered, as she attempted to open her eyes. Blinking a couple of time her eyes cleared, although her brain was still fuzzy from the drug, and the surgery.

'Hey, you're awake'

'Jay, is that you?'

'Yeah love, how you feeling?'

'Sore, floaty, tired. What you doing here? How did you know I was here?'

'Sshh, worry about that later. The only thing you need to worry about now is getting better. Sarah said the operation went well. You're gonna be okay. Now just try and get some sleep.'

'But Jay.'

'Just sleep. I'm right here. I promise I'm not leaving you, not again. You're gonna be okay, everything is gonna be okay.'