A/N: Hi there!
First of all I wanna thank you for your constant reviews, Kudos and kind words. You always make my day with it!
One reader asked why it's all so depressing and why Emma can't have at least a good day now and then. I think I have to adress that. I wanna point out that I don't see that review as negative, I can understand that thought. But now I see the need to refer to it regarding the upcoming chapter. Emma has and will have good days from time to time. At the moment the chapters are very close to each other regarding the time, so sometimes they're even happening at the same day. I guess that's why it sometimes seems that she's always feeling bad and never any better. Today's chapter isn't there to make Emma suffer even more, it's there to show that no matter how hard the nurses and doctors try, they'll never fully understand what's going on with their patients. Especially the scene with the MRI should show it.
I hope you're all okay with that. I can understand if it's too much for some people and that's absolutely fine. This never was intended to be a fluffy, happy story. I just want to make sure that I don't come across as a sadist, but there's an intention behind it. ;-)
Now, with that being said, enjoy today's chapter!
Chapter 60
In the evening, to Henry's delight, Regina had made homemade burgers, with little fat and lots of lettuce, of course. When Robin was finally asleep, she had, with Zelena's help, carried three chairs and a small folding table they usually used in the garden into the bedroom so they could all eat together with Emma. The third chair was empty most of the time, however, as Regina mainly sat next to her girlfriend in bed to be closer to her and to help her eat now and then. Although Emma disliked the fact that she could do next to nothing without help, she enjoyed the evening very much. She felt safe and loved, and even though Regina stayed with her, of course, she was almost disappointed when Henry and Zelena finally withdrew to their own beds.
The night was horrible. Emma was plagued by such a severe headache that she threw up twice. Even Zelena's tincture, which Regina massaged into her temples, helped only a little and only briefly. Because of the recent concussion, Regina did not dare to give her a sleeping pill either, so she tried to numb her pain with the on-demand medications from the bathroom cabinet and to help her with massages of her neck and head. The only result was that they both couldn't sleep and were completely drained the next morning.
By the time Emma had awakened from her stupor, her pain had diminished slightly, but even as she opened her red-rimmed eyes, she asked Regina to call David off. She did not feel up to getting out of bed. By lunchtime she had swallowed a few spoonfuls of the soup Regina had brought her, and in the afternoon, Snow sat by her bed for a while, while Emma listened to Neal and Robin playing lively with each other downstairs. Overall, though, the day and the next night passed her by like wisps of fog, and it felt like she had spent only a few minutes at home when Regina gently woke her, freshened her up in bed, and dropped her off at the hospital after breakfast and a short car ride.
"If you need anything or don't feel well, you let the nurses know, okay?" Regina asked softly as Emma was assigned a room. Her fingers stroked Emma's cheek and finally gave way to her lips.
"They all take good care of me here, you know that," Emma mumbled, giving her a smile that she hoped didn't look too forced. She had swallowed more painkillers in the past 24 hours than she ever had in such a span of time, and although it made her head feel like it was wrapped in absorbent cotton, it still felt heavy and throbbed uncomfortably inside her skull.
Regina nodded and squeezed her hand. "I wish I could stay. But I just can't miss this city council meeting, even if Snow is there."
"Regina, it's okay... you'd be sitting around waiting somewhere most of the time anyway. They have a lot planned for me and you can't be there for most of it," Emma reassured her, returning the squeeze of her hand. "Don't stress about it, I'll see you tomorrow."
Sighing, Regina closed her eyes briefly and nodded as she opened them again. "Alright. I love you, I'll see you tomorrow."
Nodding, Emma raised her head slightly and followed her with her eyes as Regina got up and left the hospital room. As the door closed behind her, Emma took a deep breath and relaxed a bit. It was easier to endure the pain when she didn't have to pretend to anyone that it was nothing. Tears burned in her eyes as she squeezed them tightly shut and held the bridge of her nose. She didn't know yet exactly when the examinations would begin, so she tried to enjoy every moment she still had her peace.
Since last night had not brought much sleep either, Emma had dozed off after a few minutes and was now awakened by a close knock and the opening of the door. Sleepily, she squinted her eyes and contorted her face in pain as the light caused her headache to flare up more.
"Hi, Emma," Marc greeted her quietly, placing her chart at the foot of the bed. "Seems like you can never get enough, huh?" Though he joked, his voice was calm and his gaze apologetic.
"No pity, please," Emma countered, using the remote to adjust her headboard higher. "So, what's up?"
"I deserve the great honor of being your driver today," he smirked, setting the bed's brake loosely.
"That sounds great. So where are we going?"
Marc stepped behind her and began maneuvering the bed outside. "I have orders to take you to the MRI first. After all, we just drew your blood a few days ago, but I don't want this to be a promise that we won't need more."
The noise and blinding, frequently changing light in the corridors made Emma's head feel more than ever like it was going to burst at any moment, so she closed her eyes. "Of course, you guys can never get enough, as usual. And then you're surprised when I'm anemic!"
Marc laughed briefly and finally put her bed down in the hallway to check Emma in. When he returned, he stopped to the side of her. "It'll be a few minutes, there's someone else inside."
"No problem, my whole life lately has been waiting," she replied dryly, looking up at him. "How have you been?"
"Better than you, I suppose," he smirked wryly.
"There's no way I'm going to let that be an answer. After all, you always want to know exactly how I'm doing, too," she countered, tilting her head slightly. "If I were you, I'd have had enough by now. Isn't that depressing, chauffeuring dying people around the hospital every day and smiling while doing so?"
Sighing, Marc crossed his arms in front of his chest and shook his head. "Well, first of all, I like my job, and second of all, you're not dying."
Emma rolled her eyes and nodded as she looked away from him. "Sure, and horses are pink."
"When did you lose hope?" he wanted to know quietly.
Shrugging her shoulders, Emma closed her eyes. "Probably sometime between vomiting blood, almost choking to death, and my cancer coming back."
"What does your family say about that?"
"About what?"
"About you giving up on yourself." He stepped closer to the bed and put a hand on Emma's forearm. "Don't do that. You can still make it."
Emma looked first at his hand on her arm and then up at his face. "Everyone tells me that. It's not motivating, it's exhausting. It doesn't concern all of you. I think it's important to accept when you've lost."
Marc drew his brows together in concern. He had never gotten the impression that Emma would ever allow to let it get her down, and he had experience in how much mental attitude could affect the body. "I think so, too," he finally nodded. "But it's still not worth a hasty surrender."
Emma just looked at him out of tired eyes. She found it touching how concerned everyone was about her, but her spirits had retreated and all she wanted was for it to be over. She didn't want to die, but she didn't want to live like this either.
"Emma Swan," they called her name a moment later.
"That would be me," she muttered, but closed her eyes again as Marc pushed her bed into the room with the MRI machine. She knew how hard the exam table was, that she wasn't allowed to move, and that there was a terrible volume inside the machine. Just thinking about the pain that would result from the examination almost made her pull the covers over her head. Only peripherally did she notice Marc's "See you later," as the attending nurses took over.
"Don't worry, the examination is completely painless," one of the two young women smiled who had noticed her tense face and wanted to reassure her.
"Yeah," Emma replied only tersely. Even moving to the examination table made her clench her teeth tightly. Her shoulder blades ached at first contact with the hard surface, and when she raised her arms above her head as she was asked to do, her catheter pulled uncomfortably at her skin and her fingers went numb almost instantly. "I'm comfortable, just start, please," she then said, hoping to cut short the preliminary banter and get back to her bed more quickly. Fortunately, everyone took the hint and while she was moved into the tube with the table, the nurses disappeared next door into the control room. As the loud throbbing of the magnet began, Emma closed her eyes and conjured up an image of Regina and Henry in her mind's eye. Normally, at such moments, she focused on the pendant dangling in front of her chest and the bracelet on her wrist, but since she had had to remove both before the examination, she now felt naked and defenseless. She had no idea how much time had passed; all she knew was that the swelling headache was already making her nauseous, and she thought her back was bound to burst at any moment if she couldn't turn on her side immediately. "How much longer?" she asked in exasperation, biting her lip.
"You're almost there, Emma. Five more minutes. Try to lie still, all right?" the static crackling voice sounded from the intercom.
Emma took a deep breath and tried to block out any emotion. Still, tears of relief ran down her face when finally the throbbing of the magnet stopped and the exam table was pushed back out with her.
"You were very brave," the nurse said softly who helped Emma cross her arms in front of her chest.
The young woman didn't manage to slide back into her bed herself this time. Instead, she had to wait for the two women to maneuver her over with practiced moves. Emma cried out as her aching shoulder blades slid over the edge of the table and pressed her face into the side of her pillow as soon as she was back in her bed.
"We're terribly sorry, Emma."
The apology was sincere, but Emma couldn't do more than nod gently at first. "It's okay," she finally whispered, wrapping her good arm around herself as she turned slightly onto her right side.
"Marc will take you back to your room, we've already notified him," they explained to her further.
Emma again just nodded. Her blood rushed in her head and with every pounding of her heart, an unbearable pain chased through her brain. She barely noticed that Marc had arrived and was taking her back to the ward. It wasn't until her bed came to a stop that she opened her eyes and watched him tamper with her catheter and hook up an IV to it.
"Painkiller," he explained tersely when he noticed her open eyes and reassuringly placed his hand on her forearm when he was done. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."
"Who cares, it's not your fault," Emma muttered, staring at the steady drip of the painkiller for a while. "What's next?" she then wanted to know, her gaze once again fixed on the nurse.
"CT and the fitting of the mask. That will also take a little longer than usual, but at least it's not as noisy in the CT," he tried to reassure her ahead of time.
Emma took a deep breath. She knew it wasn't Marc's fault. But he couldn't even guess what kind of pain she was in. She had never cried out in pain before, not in the hospital. Normally she maintained a wall of emotionlessness, but this time it had failed her and she had lost control. "What am I doing all this for?" she whispered.
"To get better," Marc returned, eyeing her with a deeply furrowed brow. "I know this sounds like an excuse or like I'm trying to downplay it all, but the preliminary tests are worse than the radiation itself. Usually, it's really well tolerated and goes really fast."
"You're just trying to keep me from running away from here tonight," Emma stated tonelessly.
"No, I mean it. I've always been honest with you, haven't I?"
Nodding, Emma looked up at him and sighed. "But the radiation is just a small part of the whole thing, and I..." She took another deep breath and closed her eyes, shaking her head. "I'm really doing the best I can, but I don't think it's going to be enough this time."
Silently, Marc looked at her for a while and finally nodded. "Maybe it won't," he agreed with her. "But you'd never forgive yourself for not at least trying."
Emma's jaw muscles twitched before she rolled further onto her side again and pulled her blanket around her, her face still contorted in pain.
"It wasn't the volume at all, was it? You have back pain," Marc noted at that, continuing to watch her.
"It was both," Emma replied without looking at him.
"You have to tell me. You'll be on your back again during the CT," he indicated.
Emma nodded and looked at him again. "Yeah, right. And nothing will change if I tell you. I can't lie any other way then either."
"No, but we can adapt to it better," he nodded. "Get some rest, I'll be back later."
Without a response, Emma closed her eyes. In a way, she was glad Regina wouldn't be back until the next day, but another part of her longed for her loving touch.
Emma had a feeling that the painkiller had barely begun to take effect a little and she had just dozed off when she heard the door open again. "I can't possibly do this already," she said immediately, almost fearfully.
"I know that," Marc's soft, deep voice replied. "That's why I brought someone with me for now."
Now Emma did feel compelled to turn her head toward the door and open her eyes. "Hi," she said hesitantly to the physical therapist at Marc's side.
"Hello, Emma," the young woman smiled. Lisa had already taken over Emma's physical therapy the other times she was at the clinic.
While Emma didn't know what they were up to, it reassured her a little to see Lisa here. She was barely older than 20, but she trusted her. "What's that going to be?"
"I was talking to Heart," Marc hastened to explain. "About you having such bad back pain."
"She already knows that," Emma muttered, not sure what this was all about.
"Yes, but she said there's no reason for you to endure it at all. You'll get meds for the nerve and bone pain, and there's little more we can do about it, but for the muscle pain she prescribed massages right away."
Sighing, Emma looked back and forth between the two. It wasn't the first time Heart had offered her massages, and she had refused each time. It was enough for her to see the doctors and therapists she had to see all the time anyway. "She knows I don't want that," she replied stubbornly even now.
"Just a massage, Emma. If it doesn't do you any good, so be it. But at least try," Marc begged.
Lisa had only been listening to the conversation with her arms folded loosely in front of her chest the whole time, but now stepped forward. "Can you please leave us alone for a moment?" she asked Marc.
The nurse returned his colleague's gaze, nodded and left the hospital room.
"You're not worried that it won't help, are you? On the contrary, you know it will help you," Lisa surmised when the two women were alone.
Emma clenched her teeth tightly and eyed her. "I don't want to be dependent on any more people," she finally whispered.
"It's about one massage. If you want more after that, fine. If not, fine too. But for now, we're just trying to get you through the day with as little pain as possible," the young woman explained without breaking eye contact. "You're not making yourself dependent on others by doing this."
"Regina, my girlfriend, sometimes massages me when I'm in pain," Emma finally admitted quietly. "That's how I know I'll feel better afterward, at least for a little while. If she finds out about my doctor prescribing massages, she'll push me to get regular treatments. And that brings us to dependence."
"But would that really be so bad? Would you rather be in pain?" Lisa asked directly.
Emma swallowed and was silent for a while. "I don't rather be in pain. But I also don't want reminder after reminder that I'm sick."
"I won't tell your girlfriend if you don't want me to. And neither will Dr. Heart," Lisa indicated. "But let me do this one treatment. It's for your own good."
"I haven't had a choice in the matter for a long time anyway," Emma countered defeatedly, pushing her blanket off of her. "Here you go, I won't stop you."
"You should want it yourself, Emma."
"Then you'll have to wait forever, because none of this is what I ever wanted," Emma said bitterly. "I agree to the treatment, that's all you can expect from me."
Lisa eyed the patient briefly, then helped her out of the top and onto her stomach. It would have been doubly better if Emma had been lying on the specially designed massage bed, but she knew she couldn't expect her to do another transfer at the moment. "Are you lying okay like this?" she wanted to know after placing her head on the face pillow and resting her broken arm next to her.
"Yes, it's comfortable," Emma murmured, whose back had already relaxed somewhat from the change in position. For the next few minutes, they were both silent, and Emma kept her eyes closed while Lisa's practiced hands eased the aching remnants of her back muscles. Even though Regina had always been able to help her with this so far, it was clearly noticeable that Lisa had learned her trade. After tensing up at first, Emma soon relaxed and had become accustomed to the confusing mixture of pain and gentleness. She didn't know how much time had passed when Lisa finally covered her and put a hand on her shoulder.
"You should lie like that for a while, if you can stand it. I'll let Marc know I'm done," the young therapist whispered.
Emma took as deep a breath as she could. "Thank you, Lisa," it escaped her choked. If she hadn't been standing on her left side, where her useless plastered arm lay, she would have taken her hand now and squeezed it. "Thank you," she thus only repeated, glad she couldn't see the tears in her eyes.
"You're welcome. And I'm always available if you change your mind after all," she reminded her again, gently squeezing her shoulder. "See you then."
"See you then," Emma replied quietly, taking another deep breath as she heard the door to the room open and close again. She didn't dare move; the fear was too great that she would destroy the positive effect of the massage right away.
"You don't have to be afraid. Just lie still and continue breathing normally. It will take a while before the mask is fully cured, but we'll be here the whole time and if you start to feel uncomfortable, please let us know at any time."
For the second time that day, Emma was lying on one of the hard exam tables. This time, however, it was the one from the CT unit, and they had placed a roll under her knees and a positioning pillow under her head for more comfortable lying. Marc was probably responsible for the soft pad that was additionally under her back. "Why would I be uncomfortable?" Emma inquired as a precaution, looking up at her doctor.
"You've indicated that you don't suffer from claustrophobia, but it's still a little uncomfortable to have the warm plastic wrapped so tightly around your head," Heart explained. "But as I said, we'll be here the whole time, and you'll find you can breathe normally."
Emma nodded and looked over at the nurse who was tampering with the water bath.
"Are you ready?" Heart inquired.
"I think so," Emma returned, once again shifting her shoulders into a comfortable position. Her eyes followed the doctor as she stepped to the nurse's side and took the plastic-like structure, now well molded by the heat, from the water bath and returned to her with it.
Despite the net-like structure and the many holes, Emma noticed her heartbeat quicken with agitation when Heart was with her again.
"It will feel like warm wax," the doctor warned her. "Now please close your eyes."
Emma did as she was told, noticing a moment later how the material molded itself to her face.
"I'm going to pull it down the sides first and then the top," the doctor continued to explain each of her steps.
As the plastic pressed tighter against her face, Emma was on the verge of panicking, but instead continued to focus on her breathing, noticing that, as promised, she had no trouble with it. In addition, the feeling of pressure eased again over time and became more evenly distributed, which even seemed to relieve her headache slightly.
"I'm just modeling your face shape now and then the worst part is already over, Emma. Then we'll just wait a little while until it hardens a bit more," Heart informed her.
Emma didn't respond, not knowing if she was allowed to speak. Instead, though, she tried hard again to remain calm as Heart's fingers tightened the warm plastic on her forehead, her nose and around her chin.
"If you're comfortable and also still able to lie well, we can use the time directly for the CT scan."
Not knowing any other way to help herself, Emma gave the doctor a thumbs up.
"You can speak, Emma." Her smile was clearly audible in the sentence.
"I'm fine, go ahead," she thus answered. She wanted to get it over with, and at the moment neither her head nor her back were bothering her unduly, so she felt that it would be a good idea to take advantage of that.
"Good, then we will start the scans now. The pictures will ultimately produce a 3D image of your brain, which will show us with millimeter precision which areas need to be radiated and at what dose. This is also why we need the mask. It prevents you from moving during the treatment," Heart explained to her again briefly what she had already explained to her in the preliminary conversation.
"Okay," Emma just returned, pressing her arms a little closer to her body as she was pushed into the CT machine. By now, she already found the mask hardly bothersome. Over the next few minutes, several images were taken of her skull and markers were drawn on the mask. The hustle and bustle around her made Emma drowsy and made her perceive the voices of the doctor and nurse only as a soft background noise. Only when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder and the light pressure disappear from her face did she return to the here and now and, blinking, opened her eyes against the glare that blinded her even more than usual after the prolonged darkness behind her closed lids. "Are you done yet?" she asked quietly.
"Yes, we are," Heart smiled kindly at her. "You've been a very easy-care patient," she noted.
Shrugging her shoulders, Emma had herself helped into a sitting position, and this time, with the nurse's help, even managed to transfer herself back to her bed. "Resistance is futile anyway and would have led to even more delays," she then said dryly, pulling her blanket over herself.
"Still, I'm sure it's not easy to take it all so stoically," Heart nodded, giving Emma a smile. "But I see the massage seems to have done you a lot of good," she noted as Emma moved herself relatively effortlessly. She had not heard of Emma's negative attitude toward massages until now, and was glad that she had been able to help her patient in this way.
"Yeah, sure," Emma murmured tonelessly and looked away from her.
Somewhat confused, Heart eyed her briefly and then reached for the documents. "I still have to make some entries in your file and will check on you again afterwards," she promised.
Emma nodded and kept silent the entire ride back to her room. She had really gotten through that day, but even though Marc claimed that the preliminary tests were worse than anything else, she still couldn't believe him. She was afraid that the combination of chemo and radiation would knock her out so badly that she wouldn't be able to go home. She might die in this hospital and never see again her front yard, her house, her bed, where she had spent the best hours of her life with Regina.
Only a few minutes had passed when Heart already knocked, entered the room and sat down on a stool by Emma's bed. "So... I have a feeling there's something on your mind," she began slowly. "And it's nothing acutely related to your deteriorating condition. What is it?"
Emma sighed and rolled her eyes. "Nothing gets past you," she muttered, annoyed, looking at the doctor. "You're going to find out anyway. I don't want the physical therapy."
"All right. May I ask why not?"
"Does it really matter? I just don't want it," Emma snapped, biting her lip.
Heart curled her lips and casually crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I'd just be interested. I was under the impression you'd feel better."
"So do I." Again, Emma sighed, her jaw grinding. "It's such an endless downward spiral," she then whispered. "First, someone had to help me up the stairs. Then I could barely walk even on straight stretches. The pain got worse, and pills turned into injections and IVs, then even opiate patches. Finally, pneumonia set in and breathing became torture. So respiratory therapy. The wheelchair. And now..." She interrupted herself and shook her head. "I already can't walk and wash myself on my own, and now I need people to help me eat and breathe. I don't want another person coming to me to keep my body functioning somehow."
"Massages don't necessarily have anything to do with cancer. There are wellness massages, too," Heart indicated.
"Are you serious?" Emma snorted.
"What I mean is, yes, you have cancer, and again, yes, that's where your severe pain comes from. But if you try to stop thinking of the massages as cancer therapy, but more as a relaxing recreation, you might find it easier," the brunette doctor explained. "These therapies are important for you, Emma. General wellbeing contributes immensely to recovery. You don't have to come to the clinic specifically for that, either. You can make appointments for someone to come to your home. Lisa would certainly be happy to do that. Then breathing therapy and massages could be combined right away, and you wouldn't even have to leave the house to do it."
"I'll think about it, okay?" Emma responded after a long hesitation. She didn't doubt for a moment that what she said was true, but it was as she said it: it was another reminder that at 33 years old, she needed a whole team of people to keep her going.
"That's good enough for me," Heart nodded and rose. "Now get some rest, you've really more than earned it today."
Emma nodded and rolled her head onto her side. She was exhausted, both physically and mentally, and she would have given anything to be able to snuggle into Regina's arms in her own bed at home right now.
