A/N- As always thank you so much for the wonderful reviews. To know that you all have fallen as in love with these characters as I have means the world... Please continue to let me know if I'm getting it right.
Thanks
Stacy


On arriving at the clinic, Glen and I walk silently toward my room. We haven't spoken to each other since the outburst at the house, but who can blame either one of us? I have a reason to be angry at the world and he has a reason to be angry with me for taking it out on him. I know he didn't deserve that, but damn it, nothing has seemed fair to me since I was told that I would be battling this disease.

My whole life has been turned upside down. I had thought that once I found Mark and we found love in each other that my prayers had been answered. That my life would finally have purpose. That all the trials and tribulations that I had gone through in the early stages of my life, would have made me strong enough to be able to have a man like Mark and be able to keep him there.

It all steams around me.

Where did I go wrong? What did I do to make all of this happen? Did my wanting to walk away turn everything on its axle? Did I choose the wrong path once I had been told that the reasons I had been in pain was because of a disease? Could I have possibly been wrong to wish that the pain and sickness had been something else?

Climbing into my hospital bed, I plug my ears with the earphones of my I-pod and skip through to find the Celtic music I had stored for times such as these. Times where my mind and heart were so confused that I didn't know if I was coming or going. Times where I can't seem to bring my life into focus. Something about the songs have always calmed my spirit and taken me away from my life, if even for the short time that they played.

Not long after I have gotten myself comfortable do I look up and find Mary bustling into the room. After she sends a warm smile my way, I lay silently and watch as she and Glen talk amongst themselves. I do however thank the good graces of God that I can't hear their conversation as Mary peers over her shoulder at me and offers me a sad smile.

Glancing over at Glen, a huge wave of guilt washes over me at the lost look in his eyes as he continues to speak to Mary. Why did I have to be so angry with him this morning? Why did I lash out at him, like it was him that had made all of this happen to me?

Rolling onto my side, I close my eyes, trying to find a way to calm the thoughts that rush through my mind. All of the questions and the degrading that is going on inside making me feel like I'm going crazy, pulling me in so many different directions. I almost feel as if there are so many paths to life laid out before me that my soul doesn't know which way to go anymore. Life. Death. Mark. Family. Friends. Wrestling.

A light tap on my arm brings my eyes open, and Mary is leaning down to get eye level with me. Rolling out my left arm, I pull the sleeve of my pajama top up my arm to allow her to get to my veins. With another smile she preps me for the medication and I move so that I am now laying flat on my back and regretting that I had even gotten in the van in the first place.


Laying on my side, in a ball, I fight the feeling of nausea that is trying to wash over me. I feel as though something is wrong. I have never gotten sick before my treatments are over, but today it's different. The flames of red hot pain are swirling low in my abdomen. My body is already shaking and clammy.

Bolting upright, I watch Glen jump up from his seat next to the bed as I pull the earphones from my ears with one hand and cover my mouth with the other. He acts fast and grabs a nearby trashcan and places it next to the bed and me and allows me to wretch. His free hand trying to help me by rubbing small circles on my back, but all it's doing is annoying the hell out of me.

Wiping my mouth, I jerk away from him and shake my head. "Something's wrong…" I tell him, laying down to clutch my stomach. "Get… Mary."

I don't know how long I lay there shivering before Mary and the doctor rush into the room. The whole place seems to be spinning so fast and I can hear their muffled voices, but I can't seem to make myself concentrate on what they are actually saying. Time seems to move in slow motion as they begin to pull the IV from my arm and start moving quickly around the room.

Feeling the bile in my throat again I move to hang off the side of the bed and grab the waste basket and my stomach lurches hard. I can feel something cool on the back of my neck and the soft cool touch of a hand on the side of my face and I welcome the feeling. I'm on fire. My whole body feeling like I've been left to burn alive at the stake.

Suddenly, I'm being wheeled out of my room and I roll weakly over to glance up at Mary, taking note of the passing overhead lights as I mentally plead with her to help me. Her eyes cast down to me, their warm depth looking worried and scared. Licking my lips, I offer her a weak smile just as another wave of sickness is trying to wash over me.

Clenching my eyes closed I pray. Pray to God to not take me yet. I'm not ready. There are so many more things that I want to do with my life and I know before it is my time, I want the chance to beg for Mark's forgiveness. I need to see Marti smile one last time, and I have to feel the happiness of being surrounded by the one's I love again. Now is not the time that I want to go.


Opening my eyes, I glance around the room, the white sterile atmosphere reminding me that I haven't taken care of myself. Rotating my head I see Glen laid back in a chair, his head titled back and his mouth hanging open. A giggle escapes me at the sight of him before I can stop it.

The sound of my laugh had to rouse the sleeping giant next to me cause the next thing I know he is laying a hand on my arm. "Are you feeling ok?" He asks his voice thick from the sleep he had been in.

Nodding my head, I realize that I do feel a lot better than I thought I could given the circumstances. "Surprisingly… yes." I admit to him, laying my head back against the pillows again. "How about you? You didn't look very comfortable sleeping like that."

Shaking his head, he palms his face and rubs his eyes. "I'll be fine."

"OK, Glen… now tell me another one so I don't feel so guilty." I snort at him, disbelieving that he is trying to make light of his own care after what had just happened to me.

"I don't care if you feel guilty, Chey. You know me better than that." He claims, looking at me seriously. "You scared the hell out of me… Marti and Beth asked me here to be your nurse. I'm actually pissed at myself that I didn't do better at my job."

Waving his statement off, I move to my side so that I can look at him. "I did this. Not you. Not Marti. Not Mark. ME… It had to be me that made the decision to not eat when I knew that it was required to keep my strength up so that an episode like this doesn't happen. No one can force me to do anything…"

When he doesn't say anything I let the words keep coming. "I'm out of excuses, Glen… I have no more fingers to point around at the reasons of why this is happening. I'm tired. I'm weak. I've lost more weight, and my hair is gone…yet I'm alive. That means something right?"

"Where is this coming from?" He asks me, his face looking even more lost than it did when we had fought and when he was talking to Mary.

Sighing, I shake my head and reach out, touching his arm. Needing the warmth and security that came with having someone near. "I don't know… I guess this has scared me enough to actually make me think of what this is REALLY doing to everyone else around me. I tried to make this illness all about me, but after seeing what it's done to Marti and Beth, Mark and you… I've decided that I don't like the person I've become in all of this."

"I can't say that I think she is as great as the old Chey, but I think it's because you are searching your way through this in your own way."

"Gee, Thanks, Glen." Rolling my eyes, I push myself onto my back and look up at the ceiling tiles.

"Not like that… From the moment I arrived back at the house and took one look at you, I could tell your spirit was gone… Your eyes haven't been as bright and your laugh hasn't had the effect on me it once did." He tells me honestly.

"I always imagined that one day life would just fall into place for me. I guess you're right in that I've been trying like hell to chose my own path instead of letting the fates handle it for me." I admit to him. "Everyday that I've opened my eyes and realized that I was still here, I've wanted to take back control of my life. I've wanted to be able to decide… Does that make any sense to you?"

"Yes… and I think that you now know that you can't." He tells me his hand curling around my fingers. "Things would be so much better if you could though."

"Yeah, I'd be checking myself out of this damn place and jogging back to the house to pack a bag to go find Mark." I laugh, squeezing his hand tighter and looking over at him. "Do you think I'll ever see him again?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll see him again. He isn't that easy to get rid of." Glen tells me, a smile widening his cheeks.