Never Be Afraid Again (sequel to We'll Carry On)

In sickness and in health.

Stormy's Point of View;

September 30th, 2008; 1:30 P.M.

"This is going to feel a little cold at first, but your body should adjust rather quickly. I'll back in a few hours to check on you Mrs. Way."

My first chemo treatment, yay. Isn't it so monumental? I should be so thrilled! Hell, I think I'll get a tattoo to document this momentous occasion. Hip, hip hoo-fucking-ray. You guessed it kiddies, cancer. I found out two days ago that I had Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia.

I remember having severe hip and lower back pains. It had started a few days prior to me finding out what it actually was. I had just passed it off as Braxton Hicks contractions. I mean, I was 7 and a half months pregnant, what else could it be, right? Wrong. Gerard woke up due to my hysterical crying and immediately rushed me to the hospital. The only thing on my mind was my baby girl. I was so worried that something was wrong with her that it was driving me insane, and most definitely not helping my anxiety.

"Sir, we're going to have to ask you to wait in the waiting room while we take Mrs. Way back for testing." The nurse instructed my very fearful husband. He agreed.

"I love you so fucking much Stormy, and daddy loves you too Bandit."

"I love you too, Gerard." And with that, he left. My rock had to leave me. The last thing I remember were the nurses putting me on a morphine drip and me being sedated.

Then I woke up to my husband gripping my hand and Mikey and Alicia smiling somberly at me. The rest of that night seems to run together in my memory, the ass-hole of a doctor made Gerard tell me I had cancer, but at least Bandit would be okay.

October 13, 2008; 9:00 A.M.

"Good morning sweetie, want some coffee?" Gerard smiled at me, kissing my cheek. I was so thankful for him every single day.

"Thanks baby." The warm liquid felt amazing to my, now, always cold body.

I'd finally accepted the fact that I was-for lack of a better word- dying. It broke my heart knowing that after I delivered Bandit, I wouldn't be able to be her mom. I wouldn't get to watch her grow up, take her first steps, fight with Gerard over if she liked music or art more. I would be just a name and maybe a picture. That thought killed me, but my decision had been made. I got the joyous news that the cancer had progressed to stage 4. I had the doctors tell Gerard differently though, because it didn't do any good telling him and stressing him out more. Once Bandit was born, I was refusing treatment so I could enjoy what little time I would have left with my daughter and my family. I decided to not let it get me down, I had hope that I would get better, sure. What were the chances of it actually happening though at this point? Not too good. There were only two people I could tell, and I had to do it now. I called Frank and Lindsey.

11:34 A.M

"Stormy? Where are you babe?" Lindsey hollered from the living room.

"Bedroom, come on back here guys." Today was a good day for me; simply because I felt like myself and had some energy for once.

"Hey Storm cloud! Where's my lover?" Frank asked playfully, sitting at the foot of bed with Lindsey.

"I sent him to the store to get me some food and shit like that. He's been so amazing through all of this, guys. It fucking kills me to put him through all of this."

"Storm, stop that right now. He loves you, you know he doesn't mind." Lindsey interjected. It was true, he didn't mind, he honestly just wanted to see me better, they all did.

"Guys, I have to tell you something. You're my best friends and I know that you'll respect this if I tell you, but you have to swear not to tell anyone, not even Gerard." They nodded in agreement.