Separated: 5SOS BSM

72. You Have Cancer - Michael

Part 4/4

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Requested by:
@kuaramaslover123
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Punxsutawney Phil is a little turd the forecast says I'm getting snow tonight and I blame that evil little groundhog

Next chapter is: "You're On Your Period And The Boys Are All Around" - I FORGOT WHO REQUESTED IT AND ONE OTHER CHAPTER! IF IT WAS YOU- pls remind me I'm v sorry 😓

Michael:
Please please no. You gripped the white sheet in your hand tightly, staring at the results Dr. Lester had given you.

Cancer. You knew you were sick but you didn't know it was serious, or even life-threatening.

It all started off innocent enough. You constantly felt drained of energy, and just overall sick. After over a week of being uncomfortable your mother took you to see your general practice doctor. But he hasn't found anything wrong, you didn't have the flu, or anything else they tested you for. So you were sent on your way, but of course you didn't get better. So you went back, but Dr. Howell still found nothing wrong.

Eventually you were referred to a specialist. You were scanned, manhandled, poked and prodded. They took all kinds of samples and ruthlessly searched for the cause of your ailment. Then your lymph nodes in your neck swelled up and became painful. It didn't take long after that for your mother to get the call that brought you to where you were sitting. In the office of Dr. Phil Lester, the oncologist.

"I'm very sorry Y/N," he said gently, his voice brought you back to reality. You didn't have the flu, or the measles, or Ebola or zika. Just liver cancer that had spread to your lymph nodes and skin.

"I-" you were in complete shock. You couldn't process anything that was going on.

Internally there was a mantra of, cancer cancer cancer cancer running through your brain, and that was all you could think of. Other people got cancer, not you. It was other people that you marched for and supported. You wore the little ribbons to bring awareness for people you didn't know personally. It had never crossed your mind that you would one day walk on the other side of the aisle and be the one who needed the help and support. You didn't ever imagine you'd become the patient.

"... what's the next step?" Your mother blindly reached over until her hand found yours. She gripped you tightly, you were again pulled back to reality, just in time to hear the second half of her sentence.

"Chemotherapy treatments are usually where we start," he said, rolling over on his wheels chair until he was in front of his computer. You watched as he typed and clicked through several screens. "Our goal will be to shrink the tumors as much as possible before we move on to radiation therapy," he said, turning his screen around so that you could see a chart. It was a brightly colored thing with lots of arrows guiding you through the ins and outs of cancer treatment. It looked very long, complex, and not at all appealing to you. You started to read the first few lines in the top blue box, they were rather dry and you were still processing everything. It was hard for you to focus on what you should know, and a lot easier to think about what could, and would happen. You could die. Your kidney could be removed. Your armpits could swell up. All your hair was going to fall out. You were going to be seeing a lot more of your oncologist and the pediatric cancer ward of the hospital.

"And after all this she'll be cured?" Karen gave your hand a squeeze.

The doctor looked uncomfortable. He sighed and pulled out a pen, pointing to the bottom of the screen. The top of the lid was pointing to an orange box labeled, "cure".