Title Prisoner of War, 3 of 4 of a series
Author: Mel
Rating: FRC-ish
Spoilers: none
Summary: The cancer deals Giles a secondary but just as harsh blow
Disclaimer: Not mine. No money being made.
Notes: If anyone is wondering about the double blow of cancer and stroke, lung cancer frequently first invades either the brain and/or the liver before moving on, so there was a kind of progression there. I appreciate the comments I've been receiving, hang in there, the next one won't be so angsty by the end.
Giles was a prisoner. He wasn't trapped in a cell of metal or stone though; but a prison of flesh, muscle and bone. A large part of his body was useless now, a result of another blow from the cancer. It had come suddenly one morning: the terror of finding himself unable to move or speak, followed by darkness overcoming him. When he regained consciousness in the hospital several days later, he was told he'd suffered a massive stroke. The cancer had invaded his brain in the form of a tumor that had squeezed blood vessels to the breaking point.
But, despite the seeming suddenness of it all, the symptoms had actually been there before it had happened. He got terrible headaches. He had sudden mood swings and personality changes, strange behavior that confused and concerned the slayer. He'd blacked out several times. Buffy had made him a doctor's appointment to check into it, despite his reluctance, and he'd finally surrendered to the knowledge that it needed to be dealt with. The stroke had come just before he was to go.
For a time, he'd been totally paralyzed, though over time he'd regained some use of his hands and arms. Below the chest, however, remained useless, and although he was able to spend some time in a wheelchair, he was forced to rely on other people for even basic needs. It frustrated, humiliated and depressed him that every day, someone else had to bathe him, shave him and dress him. He had learned how to feed himself but it was difficult and messy, and due to the effects of the cancer drugs, he wasn't able to keep much down anyway. Most of his nourishment was now coming from a nasogastric tube, a tube which delivered food to his stomach through his nose. He needed constant oxygen supplementation as well, due to the fluid and general strain of the masses in his lungs. He couldn't even sit up without being strapped into a wheelchair and even that was simply too much effort anymore. Worst of all, he was no longer even fully in control of his elimination functions and had to deal with the indignity of nappies and changes just like a baby.
The effects of the tumor in his brain continued also. At times, he didn't know who he was or what was happening and became frightened and confused. Other times, he became angry and belligerent, which, during his lucid periods, he knew had to hurt Buffy intensely as her mother had experienced the same thing. He still suffered the blackouts and headaches, and now, from time to time there were occasional seizures.
Naturally, his hardships had meant he'd finally had to surrender Council leadership to someone else, much as it pained him. The one thing that did enable him to rest a bit more comfortably was the fact that the Council was in much better hands now than when he was a young watcher. He trusted Xander completely, and he'd made several new hires that he had a lot more faith in than the men who'd been his peers and colleagues. The new crop of potentials would never have to face so many of the things that Buffy had had to deal with, and he was glad for that.
Perhaps his biggest problem was that between the fact that he was so weak from the stroke,and the painful realization that they simply weren't working anymore, the chemo treatments had to be stopped. There was no way he could receive the medication without the treatments killing him long before the cancer ever would. Spreading unchecked, the cancer would claim him in a few months time, the doctor had said, and yet, in a sense, that was now the better of the two options he had. He hated the thought of lingering this way, bedridden, hooked up to machines and for the most part, helpless. It was only the care and support of Buffy and his family and friends that willed him to keep up the fight and to not give up completely. Willow was a big help as well, providing him with remedies and spells that, although they could not alter the path he was on, could ease his pain and ensure that he was not suffering as much as he would without them.
It had been suggested by the doctor that he be placed in a nursing home but both he and Buffy had adamantly refused. He insisted that he was going to spend whatever time he had left in the company of the people who cared about him most, and Buffy had shared that sentiment. Things were discussed with his family, but what little he still had would not have been able to care for him properly. His father was dead, his mother getting up in years herself. He had a brother but all things considered, it was ultimately decided he should stay in his current situation, with his daily visiting nurses and help from Buffy and the others.
His family visited as often as possible, and Xander, Willow and Dawn made time in their busy lives to visit every time it looked as though the opportunity might present itself. He even had to admit, although he'd never say it to anyone else, that he enjoyed the occasional call or visit from Spike, annoying as the bleach blonde vamp still often was. Angel offered well wishes, but although Angel was now disconnected from Wolfram and Hart, and he had learned to tolerate Angel and work with him as an ally, he'd never had found it easy to be around the cursed vampire since what had happened to him and to Jenny.
As much as it hurt to think about it, Giles knew that his battle was nearing its end. He would keep up the battle but all too soon, he knew that his stregnth would dry up, and he would have nothing left to fight with. The time would come for the battered, battle-weary soldier to surrender to the thing that was holding him prisoner. He realized now, as bad as the thought was, that this was a battle he could not win, an undefeatable opponent that would continue to weaken him and one day claim his life as its final price.