Separated: 5SOS BSM

72. You Have Cancer - Luke

Part 3/4

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Requested by:
@kuramaslover123
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I think my HW might be actually killing me FYI

Luke:
You couldn't breathe on your own. It was becoming a real problem. Due to your late stage lung cancer, your lungs just couldn't seem to work correctly. No surprise there. What was a surprise however, was what the doctors proposed to fix it.

"Y/N, you've been doing so well," your oncologist, Dr. Thomas, smiled at you.

You smiled back up at him, well as best as you could. You were on oxygen, but still felt light headed and woozy constantly. You thought that this was going to be it. He was going to tell you that there was nothing more they could do. Your family would file in and hold your hand. Your oxygen would be taken away, and you could finally be at peace. No more fighting and losing. No more being sick, no more pity looks or overhearing whispered conversations about how much longer you may last. This was finally it, you could go quietly and peacefully surrounded by the ones you loved. Maybe it was a little earlier than you would've liked, but time was expensive and painful, you weren't sure you even wanted any more at this point.

But he didn't say, "you've fought long and hard and we've done everything we could do." He didn't explain to you how they would make you comfortable in your final moments, or try to make you feel better about dying. No, he gave you another chance at living, a long shot to say the least. "We have a new treatment for you, as you know we've exhausted all of the normal paths to remission, and your lung function has continued to deteriorate," he said solemnly. Being older, there were crinkled around his sympathetic hazel eyes.

You didn't know if you were supposed to respond or not so you just weakly nodded.

"Pretty soon you won't be able to breathe at all on your own," he turned to Liz, who was at your bedside as always. "We would like to put Y/N into a medically induced coma, she will be on a respirator to help her breathe, and of course a feeding tube and IV fluids for nourishment. Our hope is that with a little time, her lungs can recover enough and we can set her back on track." Of course he addressed her. Nobody cared that it was your life, or that you didn't want to be put under. They could keep you under as long as they pleased. You would have no ability to do anything, just be an artificially breathing vegetable. If you could talk, you would give a firm no. But you couldn't and nobody was listening.

"There's no other options?" Liz pursed her lips as she thought about what the doctor said.

You really hoped that she would turn him down, but you knew that she wouldn't. People were selfish that way, emotionally attached to the point where they won't let go. Even when the person wants to be let go, they find new ways to keep them with the rest of humanity. Safe and close where they can be communicated with. Death is the unknown, and it was scary, especially to those who weren't dying.

"If I had a better option I'd give it to you," he promised her. His crinkly eyes were looking at your mother, waiting for her response.

Only Liz looked at you. She took your hand and studied your face. You tried to convey just how much you didn't want it through your eyes. You silently begged and pleaded to be released, for her to untether you. But your mother was like everyone else.

"We'll do it," she squeezed your hand a little. It wasn't comforting. You were especially distressed that she said "we'll" instead of "I'll" as you had no say in the matter and if you did things would be going quite differently.

So Liz and the doctor started talking numbers. How long you'd be under for, what it would do to your odds of living, how likely was it for you to wake up. All sorts of cheery things. You didn't have much of an attention span, but you tried to focus. Really it just sounded like you were going to be put under, restrained, and force fed for about two weeks. Or they hoped it would be two weeks, apparently it was nobody's choice but yours as to when you'd wake up. You hoped that your body chose never.