Chapter two. I've practically lived in hospitals due to my mother's genetic condition, and in that time, I have made friends with many of the people from paediatrics, including a boy with ALL (Acute Lymphoblastic Leukaemia). In this chapter I wanted to convey the difficulties and hurt that come from a simple thing such as losing your hair.
Please review, and enjoy.

We lie in bed together. I stroke your hair, watch you breathe in and out...
You're very tired at the moment; the chemo taking its brutal toll on almost every aspect of our lives. I cooked your favourite meal last night, and you barely touched it. Everything you eat tastes like rust, as if you were trying to eat old coins or something.
It's relaxing to watch you sleep. You feel constantly nauseous and spend a lot of time in front of the toilet. We've both had to take time off work, and surprisingly, neither one of us have heard from House. I suppose it's because cancer's a hard thing to mock.
You sigh and stretch, the first signs that you're waking up. I smile fondly at you and you turn around and curl up in my arms.
But only moments later you volt out of bed, rush into our en-suite and retch, trying to bring up the little contents still in your stomach. I kneel down beside you and sweep your hair up into a ponytail to keep it out of your face. Exhausted, you finally sit back on your heels and sink into the crook of my arms.
This is going to be a long haul.

After a week of chemo, both Remy and Allison started going to work again, deciding the distraction might do them good. But it didn't seem to be working for either woman. Remy disliked the constant waves of sympathy emancipating from Foreman and Taub; neither one of them dared to disagree with her ideas whilst trying to diagnose a patient. The only one who would put her down was, naturally, House.
Thirteen didn't really see how her having cancer would change anything; after all her Huntington's hadn't. She didn't like to be treated like a frail china doll that would break if you upset her.
Things were equally as bad for Cameron. She was distracted all day by the thought of her ill girlfriend plaguing her mind. She found it hard to concentrate and in the end took Nurse Jackson's advice and stuck to paperwork so she wouldn't make a mistake and harm a patient.
They met in the cafeteria for a hurried lunch, and Cameron found her partner with a bottle of aspirin held to her throbbing forehead, the coolness giving her the slightest bit of relief. Allison slipped the bottle out of her hand and kissed the top of her head, sliding down to sit beside her. She put a comforting hand to her forehead.
"You're warm" she whispered. Raised temperature was unfortunately one of the lovely side effects of chemo. Remy nodded and winced as it hurt her head. Allison pulled her to her feet. "We shouldn't have come back to work yet" she said. "If you want we can go see Cuddy and-" Thirteen shook her head.
"No, it's fine. Really."

One week later
I met Remy in the locker room at the end of the day. She was sitting with her head in her hands, rocking slowly back and forth.
"Hey you... What's up?" she looked at me, her eyes red and grief-stricken. She raised a hand and ran it through her glossy hair, then showed me the result.
Her hair had started falling out.
"Oh, babe..." I pulled her into a hug, stroked her hands, said everything I should have said, and yet she continued to cry. She was becoming hysterical, and I started to worry.
"Rem, sweetie, please stop crying! You'll give yourself an asthma attack or you'll make yourself sick... It'll be okay, your hair will grow back, you know that!" she shook her head, trying to say something, but not quite able to manage through her tears. She started choking, and she struggled to breath. I wanted to go for help but she wouldn't let me leave her alone.
All of a sudden, Cuddy rushed in. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"I heard you from outside the door." she explained, sitting Remy down and leaning her forwards, rubbing her back to help her breathe.
I stared at them, stunned, realising for the first time just how hard this was going to be on her- on both of us.

Cuddy practically forced Remy to take some time off after that incident. It was obvious that this was going to be a major struggle for her and we didn't want the divine intervention of House or anyone else while she was still getting used to the concept of having AML.
I had my work hours shortened so I only worked two days a week. I could spend as much time possible with Rem, but still have a regular supply of income coming into the house.
After a couple of weeks, we fell into a routine.
We would get up together, and Remy would stand in front of the mirror, applying make-up to her delicate features to draw attention away from her hair- or at least, away from the lack of it. I would put my arms around her waist, tell her she looks beautiful. She does.
I'd make breakfast, something high in carbohydrates to keep her going through the day. She'd refuse to eat most of it, and then we'd curl up on the sofa and watch TV or read books and magazines. Rarely it would lead to sex, but usually Remy would end it curled up in a ball, fast asleep.
I'd make lunch, she'd eat a mouthful and then push the plate away, offer to help tidy up, get rejected for that offer and then read some more.
In the evening, I'd force her to eat at least half her dinner, we'd usually share a bath or shower, and we'd go to bed. She'd be exhausted, and I could spend hours watching her sleep.
It's the only time when she's away from all this, the needle sticks, the fatigue. And that makes me feel ao much better.

I'm not sure I'm capturing the pain right.
Hopefully I'll improve. I'd appreciate a review :)
Thanks!