I'm sorry if I didn't make this clear in the summery or whatever, but this is not a Landon/Jamie fic. The point of this fic was to explain when Jamie was diagnosed (the title explains this) and the treatment she went through before the doctors told her they could do no more. Once again, I'm sorry for not making that clear.
To answer laela j. williams' question, I always use the names of close friends of mine in all my stories. I never use a name that is not the name of a close friend or family member. Melanie is the name of one of my best friends, but the others are other friends as well.
Thank you FaithInGod21 for letting me know that it is spelled port-a-cath. I should know that but I don't I'll definitely take your offer up. If I ever have medical questions I would love your help.
I'll shut up now and let you read the next chapter. Thanks for all the reviews.
Chapter 6
Jamie stood in her bedroom pushing a few last items in her sleep-away bag. She would have to remain at the hospital for a few weeks after the bone marrow transplant. The harsh chemo she would receive prior to the transplant would deplete her body of all its energy. She would also need to be observed on a daily basis to see if the transplant would be successful. Blood tests would be a daily activity. She would be cut off from the outside world for numerous days. Few people would be allowed to visit her in her secluded prison and her father would be required to wear protective clothing when visiting his daughter. Tears poured from Jamie's eyes. When was all of this going to be over? She had been going through treatment for several months and she wasn't sure if she could endure much more.
Jamie completed her packing and made her way out of her bedroom. Even a simple task such as walking down the flight of stairs was beginning to be a laborious job for the weak girl. She came to the bottom and paused to catch her breath.
"Honey, are you ready to go?"
This question was so familiar to Jamie. Was she ready to go to the hospital? Was she ready to go for another round of chemo? Was she ready to go for a round of radiation? Was she ready to go for another blood transfusion? Jamie responded in an automatic voice with little emotion, "Yes, Daddy."
The two found their spots in the beaten up pickup truck and began the long journey to the hospital. The transplant had been planned several weeks prior to the planned date. A donor was needed. Jamie's father had been tested immediately, but was not a prominent match. Jamie had no other living relatives in Beaufort and so she was put on a list through the hospital for a possible chance. A perfect match was never found, but a woman from a near by city was close to it. The doctor decided it was a good bet and they decided to go through with the procedure.
Jamie blinked as her father parked in front of the too familiar hospital. Jamie remained in her car seat for a moment. Her father remained in his as well. They both thought about the coming weeks. Was Jamie going to be strong enough? Tears began to sting the back of her eyes but she tried to hold them back. Her father looked into her eyes. "Baby, go ahead and cry." He wrapped his arms around his daughter and tears poured from each pair of eyes.
"Daddy, why is Jesus letting this happen?"
"I don't know, Baby, I don't know. But we have to trust that he has a plan. He never makes mistakes."
"Ok," Jamie pulled away from her father's embrace. "Then I'm going to trust him." She wiped the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand and opened her door. She slowly lifted the small bag out and closed the pickup door. Her father approached her from the rear of the vehicle with her wheelchair. A couple of months earlier he had pulled an old wheelchair out of the attic for Jamie. She was no longer able to walk very far on her own. She was too weak and in a great deal of pain. He had purchased the chair several years earlier for his wife and was shaken by the sight of it in his house again. Jamie was seated and they began their way through the large hospital parking lot and into the hospital. Jamie flashed back to her first visit to the hospital. She felt the same anxiety and frustration. Only this time she was thirty pounds lighter, completely bald, and even more ill than she had been. The entered the elevator and dialed the appropriate numbers. Reverend Sullivan punched the numbers without thought. This weekly activity was now an automatic routine for the old man. They exited the small shaft and made their way down the long, white, sterile halls. Reverend Sullivan signed Jamie in at the main desk and waited for further directions. They were soon after escorted into a unfamiliar room by an unfamiliar nurse. Jamie was disappointed by the unknown face. She had hoped Susan would be her nurse through this long process.
"Jamie will remain in this private room throughout the procedure. She must be isolated from others because she will be very likely to pick up any infections because her immune system is going to be very weak. The strong chemo she will be put on prior to the transplant will deplete her blood count. I don't say these things to scare you, but you must be aware of the risks. Do you have any questions?" The two shook their heads. "Ok, then let's get started. Jamie why don't you lie down and I can get you hooked up." Jamie laid on the hospital bed and began the familiar process she went through every week. She was quickly hooked up to her IV pole and the first round of the strong chemo was started.
The first few days dragged on. Jamie was given several rounds of very strong chemo. Her entire circulatory system had to be wiped out in order for the new cells to take their place and grow into healthy new blood cells. Jamie tried to sleep through this portion of the transplant process. She was extremely tired and in more pain than she had imagined. Her limbs ached. She tried various positions but each failed to cease the agonizing pain. She remained nauseous but this was nothing new to her. Food had lost all appeal to the girl in the last few months and nausea was now a never-leaving pain. She almost began to feel used to the feeling, where if it suddenly left, something would feel out of place. Her head whirled in an on-going migraine and whenever she sat up in bed the entire world spun around her.
After three tough days of treatment, the transplant began. The new bone marrow was given to her intravenously. She tried to sleep but couldn't get her mind off of what might happen. She wondered if it would work. The donor was not a perfect match. She had also been told that sometimes patients bodies would reject the foreign cells. Would her body accept these new cells?
The transplant was completed but Jamie was to remain in the hospital for a couple more weeks. She was to be observed. The familiar nurses came in each day to test her blood to see how her body was reacting. Jamie felt secluded and alone. Her father came each day but he could not stay with her. The hospital would not allow it. He could carry possible germs and he had to care to the church. A couple of Jamie's closest friends came to see her but it was awkward for the young children. They were not sure of what was expected of them and they were forced to wear protective ware. When they stopped coming Jamie understood why but this did not change the fact that she was lonely. She missed high school. She hated being the sick girl. She hated being the girl that all her peers pitied. She hated being helpless. Even a simple trip to the bathroom was now a big deal for Jamie. She required assistance in everything.
Each day dragged on for her. She slept most of the time. Even watching TV had lost its appeal. She just laid in her hospital bed and stared at the white ceiling. Her only visitors were the nurses in their white uniforms rushing in and out of her room, checking her vitals and testing her blood.
"Hey, Jamie," The third week of her stay was just beginning and she had become too familiar to the sound of the door quietly opening. She had assumed the person who had opened it was one of the usual nurses and had ignored the recent entrance. But the voice was a familiar voice. It was Susan. Susan had helped her throughout her several months of treatment and had become a close friend. Jamie had missed her in the last few weeks. "How are you feeling, kid?"
"Mmmhmm, I've felt better. Think there's any chance you could bust me out of here?"
"You know I would do almost anything for you girl, but I don't think that's an option right now."
"Just thought I'd try. I'm so bored. I miss the real world."
"I know, Sweetie. You'll be out soon, before you know it."
"So, how are things on your side of the oncology ward?"
"Good, but we all miss you."
"How's Melanie? Do you think you could maybe bring her over to see me?" Jamie's face had lit up as she had thought of the idea. Melanie always made her smile. She would be the perfect thing to bring her out of her spell of loneliness and boredom.
A concerned look had come over Susan's face. "Um," She looked hesitant as she searched frantically for the right thing to say. "Um, Jamie that's not possible. Um, Jamie, Sweetie, um, Melanie passed away last week."
The two were silent. Tears had begun to pour down Jamie's face. Jamie looked for the right response but was at a loss. She couldn't say anything. The tears continued to flow down her pale cheeks.
"I'm so sorry I had to break it to you like this and her and…" her voice trailed off. "I'll leave you alone. I'll come and visit you tomorrow."
The next week was a complete fog. Jamie was lost in a haze. The pain had become especially strong and the thought of Melanie would not leave her mind. She had a few visitors, but she didn't seem to care any longer. She was falling deep into depression. She just wanted out. She was in too much agony. She had lost one of the best friends she had ever had. Melanie had helped her through some of the most difficult times. She needed Melanie now to help her through, but she was gone. She had fought so hard against the cancer, but had lost the battle. Why had she lost the battle? She was a strong, young girl.
The news Jamie received the following morning would push her farther in her downward spiral. Her father had come early because they were told that the doctor wanted to talk to the two. Reverend Sullivan sat at his daughter's bedside trying to comfort her. He had become aware of her recent depression. He held her hand as Jamie's doctor entered the room. He quietly shut the door behind him and pulled a vacant chair from the opposite side of the room.
"Well, Jamie I've been looking over your blood test from the last two weeks. I wish I had good news for you but I don't. Your body is rejecting the new cells. You had said you've become weaker and in much greater pain in the last week. Well, that's because your body is fighting against the new marrow."
"Is there anything we can do?" Reverend Sullivan inquired.
"Well, I'd like to say we could just attempt another transplant or go through a few more rounds of treatment but from the results we have the likelihood of this working is almost nonexistent. And the last test results show that the cancer has further spread. I'm afraid there is nothing more that we can do."