"Good morning." Sam's consultant smiled as Sam and Tom arrived at the nurses' station on oncology for her last chemo appointment of the second cycle.

"Morning. Um, I don't want the sleeping tablets as part of my pre-meds today if that's alright."

"Yes, of course that's fantastic." The doctor declared. "Are you feeling more positive then?"

"Kind of, I've just had enough rest in the last couple of days so I don't need to sleep." Sam stated. Additionally, it was because she wanted to spend some proper time with Tom but she felt no need to tell her consultant that.

"Alright. Well I shall inform your nurse and that will be sorted."


"Can you go and ask one of the nurses if we can go down to the peace garden please?" Sam requested her husband.

"What? Now?" He frowned as her cocktail of drugs had only just begun feeding into her blood stream via an IV drip.

"Yeah, I fancy getting some air for once." Sam stated. "Plus it'll give us some privacy rather than being in a room filled with other sick people." She said quietly.

"Alright, well I'll go and ask a nurse but I'm not promising anything." Tom stated as he rose to his feet and headed for the nurses' station. He knew that patients on chemo were allowed to walk around the ward or go to the toilet with their drip if they were supervised by a nurse, but he hadn't seen anyone leave the ward before. "Excuse me, I was wondering if my wife and I could go for a walk downstairs, maybe to the peace garden."

"It's Tom and Sam Kent isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Let me just have a look at her records." The nurse said as she clicked a couple of times on the computer in front of her before she frowned. "Sam's infusion has just begun, you know that?"

"Yeah. I just thought going for a walk would help keep her mind off of things. Please? Look Sam and I are both doctors and I'll know if something goes wrong – not that anything will though because she's fine."

"Well it's not exactly orthodox and she'd have to go down in a wheelchair with the IV stand on it so that there is a minimal risk of any accidents."

"That would be fine." Tom nodded.

"Alright, I'll organise a wheelchair to be brought up for her."

"Thank you." Tom said gratefully before he walked back to the chemo suite and sat in front of his wife. "I've got good news and bad news. The good news is, you are allowed to go to the peace garden, and the bad news is that I have to push you in a wheelchair so that there aren't any accidents with your drip." He explained.


"Did you have to bring the rucksack?" Sam questioned as she sat, in her wheelchair facing her husband who had just sat down on the edge of a picnic bench. Sam was in her own clothes, but she had a blue hospital blanket over her lap to keep her warm enough.

"Yeah, I've got sick bowls, a drink and my phone so that we don't lose track of time and spend too long down here." Tom stated. "Why didn't you tell me this morning that you weren't going to take the sleeping pills with your chemo?" Tom asked curiously as it had merely been a surprise for him when Sam checked in.

"Because it was a spur of the moment thing." Sam shrugged. "I'd thought about it last night but I wanted to decide when I got to the hospital to see how I felt." She added. The pair sat in silence for a while but when Tom turned to his wife to ask her something, he found her intently looking onto the patch of grass not far from them where a couple of young children were playing in a playhouse under the supervision of their parents.

"I can see the cogs turning in your head." Tom stated. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"What if I am infertile after this? I mean I don't even know if I want kids or not yet but just the thought of not being able to have them is weird..."

"Then we can look at adoption, IVF, artificial insemination, surrogacy. Or we could just grow old together; before I wanted kids but your illness has made me realise that I'm not fussed about having kids as long as I have you." Tom stated. "Anyway, you'll be fine. You've been having periods, albeit they're irregular but the main cause for concern would be if they stopped and you were induced into menopause and that doesn't seem to have happened."

"But just say that I am infertile…"

"Then we'll face that obstacle when we get there." Tom said reassuringly. "Anyway. How about, tonight, me and you do some cooking together? Try and make something eh? If you get involved in it, it might make you more likely to eat. We could make anything you want because I know you gained weight in the first place but now you're losing it and I'm worried; the chemo won't work as well as it could do if you don't eat the right things."

"I'd rather just order a takeaway." Sam smirked.

"Yeah, but you know as well as I do that you need to be getting the proper nutrition, vitamins etc for your chemo to work properly. We can make our own takeaway at home from scratch after you've had a nap."

"Okay." She nodded. "Can we stop by the toilets when we go back in?"

"Yeah sure, do you want to go in now?"

"No, I want to stay out here a bit longer. It can get a bit claustrophobic in a room with loads of other people who are ill – it's a constant reminder that I'm ill whereas out here, I kind of blend in."

"Even if you are sat in a wheelchair with a drip going into your arm." Tom grinned.


"Well, do you want to try it first or should I?" Tom asked as he and Sam stood in the kitchen each with a plate containing their first attempt at making a chicken curry from scratch with yogurt instead of cream to make it healthier, along with some spice infused rice and a shop-bought naan bread.

"Well, it smells alright." Sam shrugged before she took a bite from a piece of chicken and then reluctantly chewed it. "It's actually alright."

"Mm, see we can cook."

"I never said I couldn't, I was just worried about the influence that you had over it." Sam quipped.