HEY GUYS. I KNOW THIS CHAPTER IS LOOOOOONG OVERDUE. BUT, I HAVE MORE TIME ON MY HANDS AS I AM NOW GROUNDED AND GOT MY PHONE AND PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING TAKEN AWAY, BUT MY LAPTOP BECAUSE I NEED IT FOR SCHOOL. SO, I NOW HAVE MORE FREETIME TO WRITE. I'M SORRY FOR MAKING YOU GUYS WAIT LIKE A MONTH FOR THIS CHAPTER. AND TO BE HONEST IT'S NOT EVEN THAT GREAT, BUT I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT AND AREN'T TOO MAD AT ME FOR BEING LATE ON UPDATING.
“Now, I’ve come up with a list of drugs that specifically work in cases like yours. I have ruled out one, the first one we used when you were younger as that stopped it while you were using it, but did not cause long term remission. There are a few I personally think would be best, including this one,” he points to a piece of paper with information. I sit and listen to Doc explain my options of treatment.
“Doc, I trust you. My life is in your hands, it has been for seven years. You’ve gotten me this far,” I smiled as I touch his hand. Really, I had no clue what he was saying, and I didn’t want to pretend to know.
“Now, Louis. Are you absolutely sure you want to do this? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. If your mum is pressuring you the-.”
“No, no. My mum isn’t pressuring me, Doc. It’s not that. I’m 18, and I know what I want. My mother doesn’t need to make decisions regarding my health anymore. What I want is another chance at life. And I know I have one of the best doctors out there. I want you to save my life, Doc. Can you do that for me?”
“Louis,” he says quivering his lips. “You need to understand how serious your condition is. It’s a completely different situation than it was when you were first diagnosed. But, there is always the option of-.”
“I want to try chemo. For right now. If it gets to the point that I need it then we will talk about it then. It’s my last resort. Okay?”
“Okay. We, um. We can start on Friday. We’re going to admit you for this entire round due to how um, how, how critical you are,” he stumbled over the words, but I knew what he was saying. “We’re going to need you here by 7 am, but be here about 30 minutes prior. And-,” Doc goes on, but I’ve heard it all before. I let him continue explain what I already know is going to happen.
When Doc finished he wheels me out of his office and I see Candance sitting in the waiting room for me. She took hold on the wheel chair and flashed and weak smile at Doc. I knew what she was saying to him with her eyes, it was obvious. We all knew if I didn’t go through with this soon that I could very well die soon. It scared me that our last resort might be coming to my only resort shortly. I was afraid to tell Harry and I knew he would get worried about me and I didn’t want that. I’m done with people worrying about me.
On my way home with Candance it was quiet, but I could almost hear her thoughts. How sad she was, how bad she felt for me, how bad she felt for my mother. It was all I was thinking about, too. Mum and I had barely spoken since our argument, and I hadn’t even asked Candance to speak to her for me. Neither of us made any effort to better the tension, we just avoided each other every chance we got. Mornings get awkward, so I tend to stay in bed, and she doesn’t really come to appointments with Doc anymore. Hell, I’d be surprised if she even knew about this one. But as the days go on and I get weaker I feel more guilty for not speaking to her. I try every day, but can never find what I want to say. I begin to open my mouth and each time I shut it just as quick. How do you say you’re sorry to someone who made you feel so terrible about yourself? You don’t. It’s too hard. As I lay in bed every night and can almost feel her praying my gay away I cry and wish my death were coming sooner, but at the same time wishing I had more life to live to make up with her. But, from my review with Doc I may not have that, time. I may not have any at all. I’m lucky for every second I get, and I can’t help but want to spend all of it with Harry.
“Louis, we’re home,” Candance stops the car, getting out. I watch mon my door open and my ramp unfold for me to wheel out of the car on my own, tiring myself with every push on the wheels. I stare at the door, dreading going in as I can see Mum waiting for me inside. I know she is going to want to talk. “It’s okay to go in,” Candance assures me. But, somehow I don’t feel it is.
She helps me to the door and into the house. I see Mum sitting straight up on the couch, staring at me. I could see the tears in her eyes and I wasn’t quite ready to hear what she might have to say.
“Louis,” she whispers.
“Before you say anything I jus-,” she interrupts me.
“Louis, Doc called me. They, um. There is this clinic, in America,” she stops after every few words to catch her breath. “It’s one of the best out there. And they have a room for you, if you want it. You will have a different doctor, but they are going to continue to communicate with Doc. And you will still be on the same plan as before. You will have to be flown within the next 72 hours. But, they want to help you, Lou. And I think they can,” the smile on her face was so wide it almost made her tears seem like sparkles in her eyes.
“Mum, how on earth would we afford that?” I shook my head at all the thoughts going through my head. What about Doc? He has been there since I was diagnosed. What about Harry? We were just starting our relationship and we are already so serious. Could I even be able to survive a flight?
' “Don’t worry about it. If you want this help, we, I will make it work. Just say the words, Lou. I just want you to get better,” she gets up from the sofa and begins to walk towards me. I wheel back, letting her know I’m not quite there, yet.
“I… I need to think,” I dismiss myself from the living room and wheel myself into the bedroom. I’m already so tired from the visit with Doc and getting myself where I need to go by myself that I barely had any strength left to get myself on the bed, but I managed to do it. I pull my phone out of my pocket and open up to Harry’s contact. I contemplate calling him, running my finger in the air over the call button. I smile at his contact picture, his beautiful face. But I tear up at the thought of dying in America and never saying goodbye to him, if I go. I lay my head back on the pillow and close my eyes, resting from my emotions. I bite my lip in frustration, but don’t have the strength the actually bite.
“I’m scared,” I whisper to myself. And that couldn’t be more true.
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A Boy Named Harry
FanfictionYou know, when I look back on that time I don’t regret anything. I mean, yeah, there are things I wish I would have done, but I didn’t need to do them. Looking back, I had more love than some people have in a lifetime. It was amazing, truly, and I d...
