She lives! And, for those unaware of my dying days, its all good. Because I'm still here to finish this darn story. Almost done. Nearly. R&R!
Rhyleigh xoxox
"And this is the part that sucks", Dave sighed to Julie, as he swung the bag onto his shoulder.
"This sucks", Ruby echoed, making her parents stare at her.
"Ruby!" Dave admonished.
"What?" Ruby scrunched up her nose. "When I'm big like everyone else, then I can say things like that", she grumbled. "And do things that Mummy tells me not to do".
"Like what, missy?" Dave faced his daughter, an amused look on his face.
"Like putting my feet on the table, and drinking milk out of the bottle", Ruby said matter of factly. "Mel always yells at Ben for that".
"Don't be in such a hurry to grow up, Rubes". Dave kissed the four year old on the head. "Be good for Granddad and Nanna, alright?"
"Always am". Her blue eyes twinkled, contradicting the words that spilled from her mouth. "When I call are you gonna sing our song?"
"I always do".
She wrapped her arms around her parents, smothering them with enough kisses for the day.
It was the fact that his hospital room had become almost like home, that sucked. The photo that Rachel had found on the internet, and the photo of his family taken that Christmas. His bag in the wardrobe, Julie's bed in the corner. Coloured pencils and colouring books that Ruby had left piled on the table, to join the magazines that his father in law and mother had abandoned.
It was all that that sucked.
"Morning, doc", Dave greeted, struggling to sit up.
"Is Julie here? I thought I saw her earlier", Dr Martin wanted to know.
"You would have", he agreed, "She was here all night. So, what's the diagnosis?"
"Hi Dr Martin", Julie greeted, coming out of the bathroom and resuming her seat beside her husband's bed. "Sorry, am I interrupting?"
"No, actually I was hoping to talk to the both of you".
"Oh". Julie fell quiet, and Dave swallowed hard, bracing himself for the worst. It was his natural instinct, he found out, after battling round after round of cancer. The best just seemed too good to be news for him.
"We've been doing the chemo for almost two weeks now", Dr Martin told him, "And while some patients are slower at responding, we always get a response".
Julie was the one who asked. "So?"
"Your body's stopped responding to treatment".
And his doctor had hit the nail on the head.
"But how? I mean, its making me sick, just like last time", Dave reminded him.
"That's just your response to the medication", the doctor informed him. "The medicine isn't doing anything for your body".
Dave squeezed his eyes shut, massaging his temple. "This can't be happening".
"There is the possibility of a bone marrow transplant, if siblings are compatible".
"I'm an only child".
"Or other relative", the doctor corrected himself. "We can test your children, and friends, to see if any of them are possible matches, otherwise you can go on a list. There are other possibilities-"
"How much longer?" Dave interrupted. "Without treatments, without donors. Days, weeks, months?"
"Weeks, months?" the doctor replied. "This is one of the most rapid spreading cancers, so there is no way to be sure".
"And with the treatment? How much longer would it be with the treatment?" he wanted to know.
"Weeks, months-"
"Then no", Dave said firmly, hearing Julie's sharp intake of air. "I don't want to continue with treatment, if I'm only going to get a few weeks. I mean, okay to the bone marrow transplant if we have someone who's compatible, but otherwise, no. I want to be at home, with my family". His voice had softened to a shaky pace, as he listened to Julie sob.
The doctor nodded, completely understanding. "We'll stop the treatment, but we'll have to give you a few days to recover. But then you can go home", he said sympathetically, preparing himself to leave the room. "But, for what it's worth, I really am sorry".
"Don't shoot the messenger". Dave managed a small smile, as Dr Martin closed the door behind him. Finding Julie's hand, he laced his fingers with hers. "It's going to be okay, Jules".
The two of them sat there, crying, for what seemed like an hour, until Julie pulled away, frantically wiping her eyes.
"It has to be", she said shakily. "I can't live without you".
"You aren't going to have to live without me", Dave promised.