It was when they mentioned treatment that Thom really flipped out. Chairs flew, voices rose, rules were broken. He ended up in a confined room with a large window facing front, and he was strapped down to a hard bed- He felt mad as well as ill, and eyed the window more conciously before remembering about the straps. As he glanced at the door, a face he barely recognised flashed past, then another, then he could hear voices and knew from the tone that it was Colin arguing with whoever had gone by. "...I don't think you should keep him there like that, strapped up. He's not insane you know, this isn't an asylum, he's just struggling to cope with everything. He thinks it's 1993 for God's sake! He needs help!" Thom smiled to himself. He could always depend on his reliable Colin to come through for him. The doctor sounded annoyed. "Mr Greenwood, we can hardly accept your opinion after this morning. Somebody could have been seriously hurt! For now, we believe it's for the best to confine him, give him some space. We will be bringing him out to discuss treatment again later in the evening, when he should be more subdued and more likely to listen. You can be present if you require." How was he getting space whilst he was strapped down? "I understand. But can't you please consider losing the straps? I know Thom, and I know he won't want to be stuck there like that. He needs to be able to get around or there's more of a chance he'll flip out again." Thom wanted to laugh but didn't think he could- He prayed the straps would be gone when he woke up, because for some reason he really couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.
"Thom...Thom, wake up, come on. You've got a meeting with the consultants in an hour." Colin waited patiently whilst Thom roused himself, and smiled when he got up and looked around- Although he was ill, you wouldn't know it. "Why wake me up so early then?" Thom grinned, then looked around again. "Where's the toilet?" Colin pointed it out, then sorted Thom's clothes into a pile at the end of his bed, feeling sad for his loss, everyone's loss.
When the entered the room, Thom apologised about everything, then they got down to business. "Thom, we hope you're well. Me and my colleagues have been discussing your case, and how best to treat you. As your tumor is located close to the cerebellum, and the brain stem, we believe you may benefit from a several week course of stereotactic radiotherapy, combined with chemotherapy which will be administered orally. You may experience some symptoms such as extreme fatiuge, nausea, but these won't have too much of an effect on your daily life- You may struggle to perform on stage, though, but it's up to you to decide what you'll do. Another option is to let nature take it's course- This would only give you up to 3 months, as your tumor is high grade and may spread, causing brain damage. If you choose to begin treatment, then we will make you a treatment plan, and so on. You have until tomorrow to make your decision, and we're allowing you to go home for tonight."
Thom and Colin left that night unable to speak about the meeting. It was too hard, too painful to imagine a future with this cloud of despair hanging over it, spoiling things, and the alternative... They arrived at Jonny's flat, Colin walked Thom to the door, then left.
When Thom entered, he found that although he had a vauge recognition of the place, he didn't have much of a clue about anything else, but as Jonny showed him his clothes hung in the wardrobe and his guitar -His guitar- was in its case, propped in a corner, with a solemn coat of dust all over that made it seem ghostly. "Jonny?"
His partner turned, and Thom was shocked by his appearance. He was thin, too thin; He had dark rings which suggested he'd not slept for a long while; The most chilling feature was the blood that was congealed on his hands and wrists, and was smeared across his shirt. "Jonny! Jonny, what...what...why..?!" Thom was terrified, confused, worried all at once, and could barely think of a way to express his turmoil; Jonny grinned eerily. "Thom, calm down. I'm ok. Ok. Really. You're the one with cancer, not me." Thom frowned. "Blood..?" Jonny lifted his left arm and pulled back the sleeve- A long, angry-looking gouge ran down the entire length, raw and scabby, still oozing what appeared to be blood and something which made Thom want to vomit but that he couldn't put a name to. "It's not that bad, Thom. It just looks...painful. It's healing. It happened the night you went into hospital." Thom suddenly had a desire to know exactly what had gone on that night, he needed to know badly so he took hold of Jonny's hand. "Tell me?" Jonny led him to the bed and they sat down before he began to speak.
"It was whilst we were discussing marketing for our new album. You said that you didn't want it to look like we were buying into commercialism or something, then you walked out, and me and Colin followed- I asked you what was wrong, you said you had a headache, a migrane, so I told Phil to fetch you some Paracetomol from the shop, and he left...You really didn't look well, you were so pale, and pouring with cold sweat, and so Colin sat you down, or tried to, anyway, but you pushed him away and he fell, he knocked me sideways and my arm went straight through the window when I hit it, I was pouring blood, and Colin went to grab my arm, but then you toppled backwards and started having a fit. It was awful, your eyes rolled back and you were making the most awful choking noises...I remember it so vivid...oh God...they tried to mke me get in the ambulance with you, because of my arm, I was losing a lot of blood, buckets, but I wouldn't, I just...left. I think Ed found me sitting in the courtyard at some point, I think I probably passed out, but I wouldn't talk to him. I went home. I came here. The bathroom's a complete bloodbath, I can't remember what exactly I was doing in there but when I woke up on the settee next morning, my arm was sort of bandaged up, and it had stopped bleeding at last. I went to see you after a few days. That's all, Thom."