Title: Not Enough Time to Say Good-Bye
Summary: Doug is married to Joey. When he is told he is dying, they learn
the true meaning of friendship. And of love.
Rating: PG, probably
Chapter 1
Doug Witter sat uncomfortably in the doctor's office, tapping his foot anxiously on the floor as he waited for Dr. Ryan to come in. He felt a slight pressure on his knee, stilling his leg, and looked up to see his wife's forced smile.
He took a deep breath. He hadn't wanted to come, but the headaches and dizzy spells had been too hard to hide, and Joey was just too damn stubborn for her own good. He was convinced it was something minor, and the appointment last week and the one today were just wastes of his time and money. Yeah, right, he thought to himself. Who are you trying to kid? He knew that, if it was a minor problem, the doctor wouldn't have been so adamant about him coming in for another appointment. A phoned in prescription or something equally simple would have done the trick.
Shaking himself out of his thoughts - thoughts he was glad to leave behind because, like it or not, they were scaring him - he favored Joey with a small smile, and touched a hand to her stomach. Three months along, she was starting to show. And he couldn't be happier. No, he corrected himself. I'll be happier when Ryan gets his ass in here, says whatever he has to, and I can get the hell out of here.
Dr. Ryan chose that moment to enter, and Doug sighed with relief. Anymore waiting and he was bound to drive himself insane. "Doctor," he greeted the thin, graying man.
"Doug, Joey. Thank you for coming in."
They both nodded in reply, and Doug spoke up. "Why, exactly, am I here?"
"Always right to the point, Doug. You were that way even as a child."
Doug chose to ignore the remark, knowing it was not meant to irritate him. "Are you going to answer me?"
The doctor sat down in a chair across from them and closed his eyes slowly. Opening them, he glanced down at the clipboard in his hands, though Doug got the distinct impression he wasn't really looking at it. "Doug, I have the results of the MRI."
"And?" Doug asked, leaning forward involuntarily. "What are they?" He felt Joey move slightly beside him.
"Doug," the doctor swallowed hard. He'd been Doug's doctor for years, and had known the Witter family for longer than that. And that fact made what he had to do so much harder. "Doug, you have a brain tumor."
Doug shook his head, convinced he hadn't heard the man correctly. "What?"
"A brain tumor. I'm fairly certain I know what it is, after talking to a few people here, but you'll need to have a biopsy done for confirmation. But if it's what I suspect-" he broke off, finding it difficult to continue.
"What do you suspect?" Joey heard herself ask, even though she dreaded the answer. Her hand found Doug's and squeezed it supportively, but felt no reaction from him. Glancing over, she saw him staring at Dr. Ryan, almost as if he wasn't even there.
"From the results, I would say it is an anaplastic astrocytoma. That's a cancerous tumor whose cells grow more quickly than normal tissue cells and tend to grow into cells adjacent to the tumor."
Doug stared at him. Brain cancer? Was that what this man was saying? No, he thought to himself. This isn't possible. I'm perfectly healthy, just a little stressed. It can't be. He glanced at Joey out of the corner of his eye. Her face was white, and her eyes seemed slightly glassy, as if she wasn't seeing anything in the room, almost as if she wasn't there at all. Christ, she doesn't need this. Not after what she went through with her mom. The thought of Joey's mother, who had died of cancer when she was 12 years old, shook him up. He and Joey's sister had been good friends, and he'd been by Bessie's side through a lot of their mother's illness. He'd seen what she went through. He knew the pain she'd suffered, and that the treatment, at times, had been worse on her than the illness itself. Aloud he asked simply, "Cancer?"
The word echoed through Joey's mind. This can't be happening. It's just like mom. This can't be. Doug's so strong, and healthy. I used to think he was too healthy for his own good. So picky about what he eats, and so anal about his workouts. How can- But she knew the answer to that. It didn't matter how healthy you were. Cancer could hurt anyone. She heard the doctor's reply to Doug's query.
"Yes, I think so. I'm sorry, Doug."
Joey shook off the painful thoughts. She had to focus, if not for her own sake, but for Doug. "What can we do? I mean, after the diagnosis is confirmed?"
"Well, I can't tell you a lot, unfortunately." He handed Doug a small card, and Joey glanced at it quickly. "That's the name and information for a neuro-oncologist in Massachusetts General Hospital. She's very good, one of the best in the East. She can tell you what your options are, and what the chances are."
"What are the chances?" Doug asked slowly. "Can you tell us anything? What's the survival rate?"
"It isn't good." He again glanced at the clipboard. "Only about 40% of patients in whom the cancer is found quickly and removed completely survive five years. In patients where it isn't found quickly, or where complete removal is impossible, that number drops to 20%."
Doug struggled to conceal the fear he was feeling inside, more for Joey's sake than his own. Schooling his face into a blank expression he asked, "And which am I?"
"Obviously, I can't speak to how much success they'll have in surgically removing the tumor. But with regard to timing," he frowned, and met Doug's eyes. "It doesn't look good. I'm very sorry."
After a long moment of silence, Dr. Ryan asked them, "Would you like me to have my secretary make you an appointment with Dr. Steinbeck?"
When Joey realized that Doug was too dazed by his tentative diagnosis to answer, she nodded. "Yes, please."
As he left, she turned to Doug. Taking his right hand in both of hers she said softly, "We'll get through this, Doug. Somehow we will."
He pulled away from her. "Don't, Jo. Not now, okay?" Standing up and turning quickly, he missed the pained expression on her face. "I-I need some air. I'll be at the car."
"Doug, wait for me, please?" But he just walked away.
As Doug left the inner office, Dr. Ryan and his secretary looked up, but neither spoke or made any move to stop him from leaving.
Joey watched him go and struggled to keep her emotions in check. She knew Doug well enough to know that he'd avoid dealing with this until he was forced to. And he was starting now.
Apparently Dr. Ryan knew that too. When he came back into the office, he smiled sadly. "I don't envy you trying to get through to him. He's not going to want to deal with this."
"I know." Sitting back down, she shook her head. "This doesn't seem fair. He's such a good person. He doesn't deserve this." She looked up at him. "Does it sometimes seem to you that there are certain people who just get hit by everything, and so many others just go through life without ever knowing what it's like to hurt?"
He sat down on the chair Doug had vacated. "Unfortunately, yes. Joey, if you feel like talking, I'm here, you know. I've known Doug long enough that he feels somewhat comfortable talking to me, as long as it's not his own problems he's talking about. I know about your family, and I know about his parents. And I believe he mentioned something about another friend of yours being ill?"
"Yes. Um, a friend of a friend, actually, tested positive with HIV."
"That's never an easy thing to deal with."
"No, it isn't." She glanced away, then looked back and frowned. "When did he tell you all this?"
"When I saw him last week. He was worried he wasn't being much help to you."
"He's always a help to me." She smiled sadly. "I don't know what I'd do without him." Glancing down, she ran a hand over the slight swell, thinking about the day she'd told Doug they were going to have a baby. She'd stood in front of him, their faces inches apart, and just pressed his hand to her stomach. She didn't have to say a word. He just knew. And he'd been so happy.
"He also told me about the baby. Never have I seen a more proud daddy-to- be."
She smiled again, and this time it was, however briefly, genuine. "Sometimes I think he loves this baby more than I do."
"Oh, something tells me that's not possible."
She bit her lip against the tears that threatened to fall. "So, what do we do now?" she asked, changing the subject.
He handed her a business card. "Leighanne Carlot is a counselor here who specializes in working with people with terminal cancer. She can talk to Doug - and you - and put you in touch with other counselors and support groups." He put a hand on her shoulder. "I know this is hard."
She stepped back and shook her head, her defenses suddenly taking over. "I doubt that you have any idea how hard this is."
"I'm sorry, Joey. I didn't meant to offend you." After an awkward pause, he handed her another card. "Ten a.m. on Friday. She'll talk to you and Doug about everything, answer your questions, and then make an appointment for the biopsy and go over the procedures for that."
Taking the appointment card, Joey nodded and looked up at the doctor. He was only six years older than Doug, but she'd known him a long time - but then, she'd known just about everyone in Capeside a long time. She trusted him, completely. And now she trusted him to be honest with her. "Is he going to die?"
He studied her face. Usually when someone asked him that question, their eyes were full of hope, begging him to say that it would be all right. Not so with Joey Witter. Her eyes told him that she already knew the answer, but wanted to hear the truth from him anyway, no matter how much it was going to hurt her. He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry."
Nodding slowly, she pocketed the cards and walked to the door. As she reached it, she turned back. "Thank you." Then she left to find her husband.
As she walked through the hospital corridors, she tried to focus her attention on anything but what Dr. Ryan had just told them. She tried to think about the book she was currently working on. She tried to think about all the shopping she needed to do for the baby. She tried to think about the work Doug had started on what would become the nursery. She tried to think about the reunion they were planning to hold in a couple of weeks.
That thought actually managed to distract her for a while. Every fall Dawson, Pacey, Jen, Drue, and Andie came back to Capeside, where she and Jack remained. After Capeside High's five-year reunion, they'd decided that having their own was a better idea. They just didn't see the point of pretending to be able to stand the very same people they'd pretended around in high school. With some effort, Joey had conned her sister into shutting down the B&B for one long weekend a year. This would be the third year they'd had it.
She was looking forward to seeing Pacey's wife, Alex, and their little boy, Matthew. Joey had been very impressed when she'd met Alex four years ago. The woman was a partner in an investigative firm in New York City, a job Joey knew took guts. And she had to qualms about putting Pacey in his place every now and then, which made her okay in Joey's book. And in Doug's too.
And that brought her mind back to Doug, just as she found him sitting in the passenger seat of their Explorer. The car had been Doug's choice. He'd wanted her to drive something that could handle Capeside roads in the snow. She'd protested, telling him she'd been driving in winter for years in small, front-wheel-drive cars, but he'd won out. Like he always did.
Opening the door, she smiled at him as she climbed in, but he didn't seem to notice her. "Doug?"
No reaction.
"Doug?" she tried again. "Hello, Earth to Doug Witter. Come in, Doug Witter."
He shook himself and finally turned to look at her. "Jo?"
"Yeah, that would be me. So, you finally decided to acknowledge my existence?"
"I'm sorry," he said softly, but the apology was genuine. "I was just, just thinking about-" he broke off, unable to finish the thought even in his mind. "How long were you talking to me?"
"Not too long. Don't worry about it. I completely understand you being out of it." She leaned over and kissed him gently, thankful that, at least for now, they could pretend that they hadn't just been told he was likely going to die. "Ready to go home?"
"Definitely," he murmured in reply, squeezing her hand as she started the car. "Let's get out of here, huh?" He forced a smile to his lips, though he knew she could see right through the façade. Just as he could see through the act she was putting on.
Chapter 1
Doug Witter sat uncomfortably in the doctor's office, tapping his foot anxiously on the floor as he waited for Dr. Ryan to come in. He felt a slight pressure on his knee, stilling his leg, and looked up to see his wife's forced smile.
He took a deep breath. He hadn't wanted to come, but the headaches and dizzy spells had been too hard to hide, and Joey was just too damn stubborn for her own good. He was convinced it was something minor, and the appointment last week and the one today were just wastes of his time and money. Yeah, right, he thought to himself. Who are you trying to kid? He knew that, if it was a minor problem, the doctor wouldn't have been so adamant about him coming in for another appointment. A phoned in prescription or something equally simple would have done the trick.
Shaking himself out of his thoughts - thoughts he was glad to leave behind because, like it or not, they were scaring him - he favored Joey with a small smile, and touched a hand to her stomach. Three months along, she was starting to show. And he couldn't be happier. No, he corrected himself. I'll be happier when Ryan gets his ass in here, says whatever he has to, and I can get the hell out of here.
Dr. Ryan chose that moment to enter, and Doug sighed with relief. Anymore waiting and he was bound to drive himself insane. "Doctor," he greeted the thin, graying man.
"Doug, Joey. Thank you for coming in."
They both nodded in reply, and Doug spoke up. "Why, exactly, am I here?"
"Always right to the point, Doug. You were that way even as a child."
Doug chose to ignore the remark, knowing it was not meant to irritate him. "Are you going to answer me?"
The doctor sat down in a chair across from them and closed his eyes slowly. Opening them, he glanced down at the clipboard in his hands, though Doug got the distinct impression he wasn't really looking at it. "Doug, I have the results of the MRI."
"And?" Doug asked, leaning forward involuntarily. "What are they?" He felt Joey move slightly beside him.
"Doug," the doctor swallowed hard. He'd been Doug's doctor for years, and had known the Witter family for longer than that. And that fact made what he had to do so much harder. "Doug, you have a brain tumor."
Doug shook his head, convinced he hadn't heard the man correctly. "What?"
"A brain tumor. I'm fairly certain I know what it is, after talking to a few people here, but you'll need to have a biopsy done for confirmation. But if it's what I suspect-" he broke off, finding it difficult to continue.
"What do you suspect?" Joey heard herself ask, even though she dreaded the answer. Her hand found Doug's and squeezed it supportively, but felt no reaction from him. Glancing over, she saw him staring at Dr. Ryan, almost as if he wasn't even there.
"From the results, I would say it is an anaplastic astrocytoma. That's a cancerous tumor whose cells grow more quickly than normal tissue cells and tend to grow into cells adjacent to the tumor."
Doug stared at him. Brain cancer? Was that what this man was saying? No, he thought to himself. This isn't possible. I'm perfectly healthy, just a little stressed. It can't be. He glanced at Joey out of the corner of his eye. Her face was white, and her eyes seemed slightly glassy, as if she wasn't seeing anything in the room, almost as if she wasn't there at all. Christ, she doesn't need this. Not after what she went through with her mom. The thought of Joey's mother, who had died of cancer when she was 12 years old, shook him up. He and Joey's sister had been good friends, and he'd been by Bessie's side through a lot of their mother's illness. He'd seen what she went through. He knew the pain she'd suffered, and that the treatment, at times, had been worse on her than the illness itself. Aloud he asked simply, "Cancer?"
The word echoed through Joey's mind. This can't be happening. It's just like mom. This can't be. Doug's so strong, and healthy. I used to think he was too healthy for his own good. So picky about what he eats, and so anal about his workouts. How can- But she knew the answer to that. It didn't matter how healthy you were. Cancer could hurt anyone. She heard the doctor's reply to Doug's query.
"Yes, I think so. I'm sorry, Doug."
Joey shook off the painful thoughts. She had to focus, if not for her own sake, but for Doug. "What can we do? I mean, after the diagnosis is confirmed?"
"Well, I can't tell you a lot, unfortunately." He handed Doug a small card, and Joey glanced at it quickly. "That's the name and information for a neuro-oncologist in Massachusetts General Hospital. She's very good, one of the best in the East. She can tell you what your options are, and what the chances are."
"What are the chances?" Doug asked slowly. "Can you tell us anything? What's the survival rate?"
"It isn't good." He again glanced at the clipboard. "Only about 40% of patients in whom the cancer is found quickly and removed completely survive five years. In patients where it isn't found quickly, or where complete removal is impossible, that number drops to 20%."
Doug struggled to conceal the fear he was feeling inside, more for Joey's sake than his own. Schooling his face into a blank expression he asked, "And which am I?"
"Obviously, I can't speak to how much success they'll have in surgically removing the tumor. But with regard to timing," he frowned, and met Doug's eyes. "It doesn't look good. I'm very sorry."
After a long moment of silence, Dr. Ryan asked them, "Would you like me to have my secretary make you an appointment with Dr. Steinbeck?"
When Joey realized that Doug was too dazed by his tentative diagnosis to answer, she nodded. "Yes, please."
As he left, she turned to Doug. Taking his right hand in both of hers she said softly, "We'll get through this, Doug. Somehow we will."
He pulled away from her. "Don't, Jo. Not now, okay?" Standing up and turning quickly, he missed the pained expression on her face. "I-I need some air. I'll be at the car."
"Doug, wait for me, please?" But he just walked away.
As Doug left the inner office, Dr. Ryan and his secretary looked up, but neither spoke or made any move to stop him from leaving.
Joey watched him go and struggled to keep her emotions in check. She knew Doug well enough to know that he'd avoid dealing with this until he was forced to. And he was starting now.
Apparently Dr. Ryan knew that too. When he came back into the office, he smiled sadly. "I don't envy you trying to get through to him. He's not going to want to deal with this."
"I know." Sitting back down, she shook her head. "This doesn't seem fair. He's such a good person. He doesn't deserve this." She looked up at him. "Does it sometimes seem to you that there are certain people who just get hit by everything, and so many others just go through life without ever knowing what it's like to hurt?"
He sat down on the chair Doug had vacated. "Unfortunately, yes. Joey, if you feel like talking, I'm here, you know. I've known Doug long enough that he feels somewhat comfortable talking to me, as long as it's not his own problems he's talking about. I know about your family, and I know about his parents. And I believe he mentioned something about another friend of yours being ill?"
"Yes. Um, a friend of a friend, actually, tested positive with HIV."
"That's never an easy thing to deal with."
"No, it isn't." She glanced away, then looked back and frowned. "When did he tell you all this?"
"When I saw him last week. He was worried he wasn't being much help to you."
"He's always a help to me." She smiled sadly. "I don't know what I'd do without him." Glancing down, she ran a hand over the slight swell, thinking about the day she'd told Doug they were going to have a baby. She'd stood in front of him, their faces inches apart, and just pressed his hand to her stomach. She didn't have to say a word. He just knew. And he'd been so happy.
"He also told me about the baby. Never have I seen a more proud daddy-to- be."
She smiled again, and this time it was, however briefly, genuine. "Sometimes I think he loves this baby more than I do."
"Oh, something tells me that's not possible."
She bit her lip against the tears that threatened to fall. "So, what do we do now?" she asked, changing the subject.
He handed her a business card. "Leighanne Carlot is a counselor here who specializes in working with people with terminal cancer. She can talk to Doug - and you - and put you in touch with other counselors and support groups." He put a hand on her shoulder. "I know this is hard."
She stepped back and shook her head, her defenses suddenly taking over. "I doubt that you have any idea how hard this is."
"I'm sorry, Joey. I didn't meant to offend you." After an awkward pause, he handed her another card. "Ten a.m. on Friday. She'll talk to you and Doug about everything, answer your questions, and then make an appointment for the biopsy and go over the procedures for that."
Taking the appointment card, Joey nodded and looked up at the doctor. He was only six years older than Doug, but she'd known him a long time - but then, she'd known just about everyone in Capeside a long time. She trusted him, completely. And now she trusted him to be honest with her. "Is he going to die?"
He studied her face. Usually when someone asked him that question, their eyes were full of hope, begging him to say that it would be all right. Not so with Joey Witter. Her eyes told him that she already knew the answer, but wanted to hear the truth from him anyway, no matter how much it was going to hurt her. He sighed heavily. "I'm sorry."
Nodding slowly, she pocketed the cards and walked to the door. As she reached it, she turned back. "Thank you." Then she left to find her husband.
As she walked through the hospital corridors, she tried to focus her attention on anything but what Dr. Ryan had just told them. She tried to think about the book she was currently working on. She tried to think about all the shopping she needed to do for the baby. She tried to think about the work Doug had started on what would become the nursery. She tried to think about the reunion they were planning to hold in a couple of weeks.
That thought actually managed to distract her for a while. Every fall Dawson, Pacey, Jen, Drue, and Andie came back to Capeside, where she and Jack remained. After Capeside High's five-year reunion, they'd decided that having their own was a better idea. They just didn't see the point of pretending to be able to stand the very same people they'd pretended around in high school. With some effort, Joey had conned her sister into shutting down the B&B for one long weekend a year. This would be the third year they'd had it.
She was looking forward to seeing Pacey's wife, Alex, and their little boy, Matthew. Joey had been very impressed when she'd met Alex four years ago. The woman was a partner in an investigative firm in New York City, a job Joey knew took guts. And she had to qualms about putting Pacey in his place every now and then, which made her okay in Joey's book. And in Doug's too.
And that brought her mind back to Doug, just as she found him sitting in the passenger seat of their Explorer. The car had been Doug's choice. He'd wanted her to drive something that could handle Capeside roads in the snow. She'd protested, telling him she'd been driving in winter for years in small, front-wheel-drive cars, but he'd won out. Like he always did.
Opening the door, she smiled at him as she climbed in, but he didn't seem to notice her. "Doug?"
No reaction.
"Doug?" she tried again. "Hello, Earth to Doug Witter. Come in, Doug Witter."
He shook himself and finally turned to look at her. "Jo?"
"Yeah, that would be me. So, you finally decided to acknowledge my existence?"
"I'm sorry," he said softly, but the apology was genuine. "I was just, just thinking about-" he broke off, unable to finish the thought even in his mind. "How long were you talking to me?"
"Not too long. Don't worry about it. I completely understand you being out of it." She leaned over and kissed him gently, thankful that, at least for now, they could pretend that they hadn't just been told he was likely going to die. "Ready to go home?"
"Definitely," he murmured in reply, squeezing her hand as she started the car. "Let's get out of here, huh?" He forced a smile to his lips, though he knew she could see right through the façade. Just as he could see through the act she was putting on.