Part 4 my dudes. A continuation from last time. Hope you enjoy!!
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Jefferson's p.o.v
We went back the next day to start the chemo treatement. This time, everyone came. My siblings, my parents, James, Laf, everyone.
The university knows now. How else was I going to explain my long absences? I had to tell them. You don't understand. I had to. It's not like I wanted to, is it? There's this little voice in my head that yells at me, day in, day out why did you tell them? You shouldn't have told anyone! You should've just kept yourself to yourself. Idiot.
Idiot is a rather large part of my vocabulary. It's one of my top ten favourite words.
There's another voice, too. You are an idiot, it says to me in a stern way. Someone would figure it out anyway. Always sick? Spending weeks at the hospital? Going out 'studying' and coming back late at night? James would probably think you were cheating on him! He'd trail you, most likely, and find you at the hospital. That just causes more trouble than it solves. You did the right thing.
Needless to say, I much prefer the second voice.
Washington was very kind about the whole thing. He seemed surprised when 10 people showed up at his office door, but he was gracefully courteous and invited us all in. We were all packed in like sardines, James on my lap, my mother fussing over my overnight bag- did I have enough pyjamas? had I packed my toothbrush?- and my siblings, especially Lizzy, glaring daggers at Washington when he began to run us through the procedure. Some of the language was quite complicated, and Laf looked at me in desperation. I quickly translated for him. Washington looked impressed.
"Bonjour, comme ça va? [Hello, how are you?]" he said. I raised my eyebrows in amazement.
"B-bien, merci, [G-good, thanks]" Laf stuttered, smiling a little. Lizzy made a small noise far too much like a growl for my liking.
"So, are you happy with that?" Washington asked, turning back to me. I nodded, more than a little scared. "Now, you can have one per-"
"James," I blurted. "I want James."
I looked over to my boyfriend, and he nodded supportively. We went over the last few details, and it was time to go down to the room. My parents and siblings kissed me on cheeks, wishing me luck. Laf hugged me tightly. Just as they were about to leave, Lizzy whipped round, her straightened hair in a high ponytail cracking on her neck. She had her hands on her hips.
"You're lying!" she said accusingly to Washington, pointing at him. Washington tilted his head slightly sideways, and I froze. "Tommy doesn't have cancer, you're just lying because you want tons of money out of him and to make us all miserable!"
Oh, I wish that was true.
Washington gave her a small, sad smile, just like the one he'd been giving me.
"He's not lying, Liz," I said gently, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Surprising me, she started to cry, bowing her head and letting her arms drop to her sides. I pulled her into a hug, letting her sob into my shoulder until Washington gave me a small tap and gestured to his watch. "I gotta go," I told her, and she pulled away, wiping her eyes.
"Just stay alive," she said before walking away with Ma and Dad hugging her.
I'll try, I vowed. I'll try.
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"Look, if you need anything, anything at all, just call me," Washington said insistently. By this point, me, James and Washington were in my room. Yes, usually patients are put on a ward, but I was still on my family's insurance plan which was pretty exclusive. My family are loaded, you see. I nodded quietly at him, my eyed glued to the pale blue bedsheets. I was already dressed in my pyjamas, and was scratching incessantly at my arm where I knew the IV drip was going to be.
I was nothing short of terrified.
Washington gave me one last smile before leaving, shutting the door quietly behind him. Me and James were alone for the first time in over 24 hours.
"So..." James said, his eyes also trained on the floor. It was more awkward than when Hindenburg thought he could control Hitler.
"So..." I repeated. We were silent for a few seconds before we both burst out laughing. Not like fake, awkward laughing either. Proper belly laughs, the type that make you double over, out of breath, stitch-inducing laughter.
"What is wrong with us!?" James gasped, clutching his sides.
"A-a lot!" I replied, giggling. "Do you want an itemised list?"
At that moment, a nurse came in, wheeling in the IV kit and a sealed bag. On it, a skull and crossbones was emblazoned, the biohazard symbol also. The bold black letters on the silver read chemotherapy.
The laughter was now gone.
"Hey!" she said in a chirpy voice, turning to me and James. "I'm Zoe, and I'm guessing you must be Thomas!"
I gave a small nod, clutching James' hand like a lifeline. He clutched back.
"This is James," I said quietly. James gave a small wave with his free hand.
"Well, as cute as you two are, I'm gonna have to ask you to stop holding hands for the moment," she said. Unwillingly, James untangled himself from me, still sitting as close as he could to me. I wimpered a little. Zoe came forward and took my arm, delicately prepping the vein.
"Sharp scratch," she said softly and slid the needle into my skin. It was more than a sharp scratch, I can tell. I yelped, my eyes watered and it took all of my self-control and James holding me down a little not to jump up and dart out of there. "Sorry about that."
"Me and pain are not friends," I replied, glaring at her. She gave me a sympathetic look, and whispered something to James, trying (and failing) to discreetly hand him something.
"Press this button if you need any help," she said before sliding something up on the IV bag and gliding out.
0 days, 0 hours, 0 minutes and 27 seconds: the medicine begins to drip.
I didn't really feel any affect to start off. Staring at the drip, drip, drip of the chemo, James was watching me intently. It was about an hour or so before I started to feel the side effects.
0 days, 1 hour, 18 minutes and 53 seconds: side effects kick in.
"Oh God," I groaned, wrapping my arm around my stomach. James jerked up, his drooping head wearing an expression of concern.
"What, what?" he said, panicking a little.
"Nausea," I replied shortly, snapping my mouth shut. He gave me a look of sympathy, reaching over into the cabinet and grabbing an emesis basin. He held it to my chin: the curve fitted perfectly into my chest. It wasn't long until I started retching. James held my hair back, rubbing gentle circles into my back.
"Oh, baby," he whispered as I spat out the last remenants of my stomach contents.
It could only get better from here, right?
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Hope you enjoyed!! Please let me know what you thought!
