TOM

You had arrived at the hospital about an hour ago. She was doing her normal hospital admittance routine, while you unpacked. You had grown to know how she likes her hospital room setup. Her port had already accessed, she answered all the usual questions from the nurse, and now she was downstairs for PFT (Pulmonary Function Test) and chest X-Ray. You wanted to go with her, but she urged you to stay put and finish unpacking. You weren't allowed in the X-Ray room and PFT's only took a few minutes, it was kind of silly to tag along, but you hated leaving her to do those things alone.

You've just finished packing when Dr. S walks in. Your nervs start creeping up again, wondering what he will say of your fiance's condition.

He walks towards you with an extended hand. "Hi Tom, she still downstairs?"

You shake his hand. "Yes, she left a few minutes ago. Sorry."

He just stands there quiet, it seemed as though he was considering things. What, you didn't know. It seemed like an eternity until he spoke again.

"Tom, you know I'm not supposed to share things without the patient present, unless they are family. But I feel I should give you warning, and I also may need your help. Ok?"

You feel nauseous. "I understand. Oh, and we are engaged. If that makes it any better in terms of you sharing."

A huge smile comes across the Dr.'s face. He leans to give you quick hug, and you return the gesture.

"Congratulations! Technically I still shouldn't be telling you, but it makes me feel better. Ok.. I'm sorry to say this, but I believe it is time that Jane get's a feeding tube. As soon as possible. It is critical that she get's it as soon as possible. She cannot afford to keep losing weight at the rate she is. Now, you and I both know how stubborn she can sometimes be. What I need your help with is not only convincing her on getting the surgery, but getting the surgery next week. Unfortunately this would mean you would miss your vacation in London."

It feels as though you've been kicked in the gut. You're trying desperately to comprehend what he's just told you, but it all just hangs there. It's as if you didn't hear it. Was he truly talking about your, Jane? Is it possible he was thinking of another patient? How could your fiance be in such a dire situation as to need a feeding tube? You'd always known this to be a possibility. Many CF patients had them, but Jane? All you manage to do is nod before Jane is back from her testing. She makes her way to the bed, looking exhausted. You urged her to take the wheelchair, but she refused. You understood why Dr. S needed your help.

She looks up at you both, a nervous expression graced her face.

"Hi Dr. S, what did I miss?"

Dr. S moves around you to stand at the foot of the bed. You go and sit in the chair beside her bed.

"Oh nothing. Tom was just telling me of the engagement. Congratulations!"

She blushes and grins, looking for her ring but you have it in your pocket. She couldn't wear jewelry in X-Ray. You take it out and hand it back. "Sorry, love."

She places it back on her finger with a grin.

"Thank you. So, what's the plan for this stay?"

You and Dr. S shoot each other a look, and he goes on to tell her.

"Well, I have a feeling you are not going to like my plan. But I want you and Tom to keep an open mind and think about the future."

She grabs your hand and squeezes tight. You squeeze back and glance at her. She took a deep breath. She knew what was coming.

"Jane, I think it is time for a feeding tube. And as soon as possible. Now, I haven't seen your PFT's yet, but providing they aren't horrible, I would like to schedule surgery for next week."

She closes her eyes and gives your hand another squeeze.

"London would need to be rescheduled?"

Dr. S simply nods before adding. "I'm sorry, dear. But your weight is too dangerous. You cannot afford to lose another pound. It would not be safe for you to go on vacation at the weight you are at now. Let alone another country."

Tears begin to fall. Your heart breaks as you go to hug her tightly. You hated to see her have to make these decisions. It wasn't fair.

She takes a deep breath, gaining control of her tears before pushing away from the hug.

"My PFT's were 60%. If the surgery is what needs to happen now, then schedule it for when you'd like. London will still be there when I'm well."

Dr. S does not disguise his surprise well. He doesn't know what to do, he had gone in prepared for battle.

"I will schedule for next Wednesday. Until then we will do your lung therapy, antibiotics, and high calorie shakes twice a day. I'm so sorry."

And with that he turns to leave.

You had been fighting back tears this whole time. She was so brave. It never ceased to amaze you. You don't know that you'd be able to make that kind of decision. Not because of a vacation rescheduling conflict, but the decision in general. It was a surgery. It was another foreign object being placed in her body. How she did it, you'll never know. You were so grateful to call this woman your fiance.

She doesn't say anything, just laying down and pulling the blankets up to her chest. You stand to go and shut the door and turn off the big bright overhead light. You crawl into bed next to her, over the covers. She turns to lay her head on your chest. She mumbles. "I love you" You kiss the top of her head and whisper. "I love you too." After that, you both drift off to the sound of beeping monitors and IV pups whirring.

JANE

It was the morning of surgery.

You're in the bathroom changing into one of those horrendous hospital gowns, trying to find a way to keep it from sliding off your non existent form. Tom was in his chair by your bed, nervously chatting away with the nurse while she setup your pump for fluids. He arrived extra early today so he could be there before they took you to pre-op. He tried to stay the night with you, but you insisted he go home and get a good nights rest. The cots were terribly uncomfortable and he wasn't used to nurses coming and going throughout the night like you were. Besides, he was going to be staying for a few days after surgery until he was comfortable leaving you overnight again. He had moved all interviews and meetings until further notice. He was a nervous wreck. He had never been through someone he loved having surgery before. You had tried everything to get him to relax, but nothing worked.

You hoped the meeting with the surgeon the day before might help him feel better, but as the surgeon explained in detail what would be happening during surgery, Toms eyes only grew wider, his face only paler. It made him feel worse knowing exactly how the surgeon would cause you harm. Asleep or not. You would be in pain when you woke up, and that's all Tom could think about. And the risks, no matter how rare, had all but thrown him into a tizzy. It took forever to calm him down yesterday. He seemed better today, but still freaking out none the less.

You have one last idea to hopefully at least make him smile. You had managed to get the gown to stay on somewhat comfortably. You open the door and immediately strike a pose.

"Am I runway ready yet?"

Success! He gives you a chuckle, and so does your nurse. You walk over to the bed, elated that you made him feel more at ease, even if just for a moment. As soon as your nurse hooks you up, a man with a gurney shows up to take you to pre-op.

You thank the nurse and Tom helps you to the bed, pushing your IV pole for you while you concentrated on not tripping on your gown.

Tom keeps pace with the side of the bed. Holding your hand the whole way. While your hand was cold and dry from this hospital air, his was hot and clammy. Still nervous. Once in your little corner, the man leaves pulling the curtain behind him. Tom sits down, and begins tapping his toes. A nervous habit of his. He did it alot before auditions or walking the carpets. You reach over to grab his hand, he looks at you with a face you've never seen. He was panicking.

"Tom, I need you to calm down, ok? Everything is going to be fine. I've had lots of surgeries and they've all gone without a problem. I'm not going to feel well, but that will pass. I'm going to need you these next couple of days, but not if you worry yourself into a state. Please, try to relax."

You hated putting that kind of pressure on him, but unless he knew he would be doing it for your benefit, it would be a waste of breath.

He takes a deep breath, some ease comes across his face.

"Ok. I'm sorry, love. I've just never been through something like this before. Which sounds silly because I'm not the one having the surgery, but it's just scary to me. I will try my best to keep calm, and I will be here to hold your hand the whole way."

You feel a slight wave of relief, he already seemed more calm. The anesthesiologist who introduced himself as Martin, comes in minutes later to explain how he will be keeping you asleep and says he will return in a few minutes to take you back to the OR.

Once Martin leaves, Tom stands to sit at the edge of your bed, pulling you into his chest. You start to feel a bit anxious about not having him with you. He leans down to kiss you, it's gentle, but somewhat desperate.

You both pull away after a moment, realizing now was not the time or place to get in the mood. You both sit and smile at each other for a short while. He runs his fingers through your hair. When he speaks, he speaks soft. "I will be right here when you awake. I love you."

You sigh, trying to hide the fact you're starting to really get nervous. "I love you, too."

Martin appears again, pushing back the curtain all the way.

"Are you ready?"

You nod and Tom leans down to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. He followed you until he reached the nurses station where they could direct him towards the waiting room. He gives your hand one last squeeze before you wheel past him. You look back and he's still watching you. In one last ditch effort to lift his spirits, you give him the princess wave. You see a smile before you push through a set of large heavy doors.

You're wheeled down a long and chilly hallway, turning into the last room on the left.

Martin wheels you up to the surgical table which you scoot your way onto and then lay down, placing your head on a little foam ring.

The nurses begin hooking you up to the monitors and Martin leans down to tell you something. "I'm going to give you some medicine to help make you sleepy now, ok?" You nod. A shiver runs through you. It was always so cold in the procedure rooms. A nurse notices and pulls a blanket up to your hips. You shoot her a smile and a "Thank you."

Then your eyelids begin to droop. Your head starts spinning. The familiar oxygen mask covers your face, and before anyone tells you to, you start counting down.

"Five...f-four...thr"

And then it was dark.

They always tell you to dream of something nice during surgery.

You dream of the fun you and Tom would have had in London.

It was the best dream you've had during any surgery.