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muses_w_remotes | Life changing moment
Tuesday, 12 August 2008 19:18![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
strips4u3.2. "You know the great thing though? Is that change can be so constant that you don't even feel the difference until there is one. It can be so slow that you don't know your life is better, or worse, until it is. Or it can just blow you away, make you something different in an instant. It happened to me."
| Life As A House
PAST SCENE, SET AUGUST 2005
Flynn decided if ever there was a decent place to feel sick, it was the doctor’s office. He felt like he’d had this flu for weeks now; just when he thought he was starting to feel better, it would come back in full force. Fevers, chills, aches, pains, nausea, puking, tiredness… he just couldn’t seem to shake it.
This was the second time he’d sat in this very chair in a week. Earlier in the week, he hadn’t felt too bad but the doctor took blood and urine samples just to check for any standard infections before putting Flynn on antibiotics. Now he just felt like utter shit. So much so that Maddy had insisted on spending the night at his place to keep an eye on him, even if he’d spent the duration of the twilight hours camped out on the bathroom floor because he was too weak to move too far between rounds of throwing up.
The doctor had called first thing and asked him to come to the appointment ASAP. Flynn had been sleeping, so Maddy took the message, then firmly told him she was driving him to the appointment. He hadn’t thought anything of the impromptu, apparently urgent, appointment figuring it was just standard routine. He never once considered the possibility it might be bad news.
Would he have reacted differently if he had?
Flynn uncrossed his legs and leaned forward when the doctor came in holding his file. “Look, Doc, I hardly slept last night because I couldn’t stop hurling. Can you give me something for that?” he asked. “I just want to get some sleep. I’m fucking exhausted.”
The doctor (Dr Richards) wasn’t an old man; Flynn guessed he was around early forties, pretty hot, though straight and well and truly married if the thick gold ring and family photos were anything to go by. He’d been Flynn’s GP for around six years, though Flynn didn’t really see him for anything beyond a HIV test one time and another time for a torn muscle in his back he’d gotten when he and Maddy slipped in the shower during a particularly intense round of shower shagging. At least, until Flynn started to feel continuously sick a few weeks earlier.
Dr Richards cleared his throat, opening Flynn’s file to fold his hands in front of him across the pages. “Your blood results have shown some abnormalities, Mr Hunter. I would like to do a couple of additional investigations, though I’m afraid the results aren’t good.” He paused to take a breath and Flynn used the hesitation to jump in.
“What do you mean, ‘aren’t good’?” Flynn scoffed. “I’ve got the flu. You said antibiotics would take that away. I mean, yeah, the whole puking sucks and I feel like crap, but I’ve had this before. Everyone has. You said the tests were just routine. You said that!” He stared at the doctor, waiting for confirmation of everything he just said.
“They were routine, Mr Hunter. But they discovered the likely source of why you have been feeling so ill lately,” the doctor explained. “I will need to investigate further to confirm the diagnosis, but the blood results indicate that you have Acute Myeloid Leukemia. The progression looks to be aggressive and we will need to start treatment as soon as possible.”
Flynn gaped at him in shock. “Are you telling me I have cancer?” he managed to get out. “I’m dying?”
Dr Richards held his hand up. “No, this form of leukemia is very treatable and has a very high percentage of survival and remission rates, especially in adults. There is nothing to indicate intense chemotherapy will not be successful in combating it.”
Flynn tried to speak but found he couldn’t. Cancer… chemotherapy… His head was spinning and he felt a little like he was either drunk or had been hit in the head. He put his hand up to his cheek and all he managed to emit was a tiny whimpering sound.
The doctor stood and rounded the desk to sit beside Flynn. He leaned down so he could speak directly to his patient; when he did, his voice was soft and calm, his hand resting on Flynn’s arm. “You’re scared and that’s normal. I’m going to refer you to an Oncologist who specialises in this form of Leukemia and arrange a counselling session which is recommended for people newly diagnosed. I need to admit you to hospital, Flynn. The quicker we begin this process, the better prognosis we will have. Bombarding you with information now will not help. Did you come to this appointment with a friend or family member?”
Flynn gave the merest of nods. “Maddy,” he choked out in a hoarse whisper.
The rest of the appointment was a blur, merging in to a swirl of frightening voices and big words, and it was the start of a long road of the hardest, most frightening time of Flynn’s life.
Madison James [![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
canmakeufeel] referenced with permission
Words | 827
| Life As A House
PAST SCENE, SET AUGUST 2005
Flynn decided if ever there was a decent place to feel sick, it was the doctor’s office. He felt like he’d had this flu for weeks now; just when he thought he was starting to feel better, it would come back in full force. Fevers, chills, aches, pains, nausea, puking, tiredness… he just couldn’t seem to shake it.
This was the second time he’d sat in this very chair in a week. Earlier in the week, he hadn’t felt too bad but the doctor took blood and urine samples just to check for any standard infections before putting Flynn on antibiotics. Now he just felt like utter shit. So much so that Maddy had insisted on spending the night at his place to keep an eye on him, even if he’d spent the duration of the twilight hours camped out on the bathroom floor because he was too weak to move too far between rounds of throwing up.
The doctor had called first thing and asked him to come to the appointment ASAP. Flynn had been sleeping, so Maddy took the message, then firmly told him she was driving him to the appointment. He hadn’t thought anything of the impromptu, apparently urgent, appointment figuring it was just standard routine. He never once considered the possibility it might be bad news.
Would he have reacted differently if he had?
Flynn uncrossed his legs and leaned forward when the doctor came in holding his file. “Look, Doc, I hardly slept last night because I couldn’t stop hurling. Can you give me something for that?” he asked. “I just want to get some sleep. I’m fucking exhausted.”
The doctor (Dr Richards) wasn’t an old man; Flynn guessed he was around early forties, pretty hot, though straight and well and truly married if the thick gold ring and family photos were anything to go by. He’d been Flynn’s GP for around six years, though Flynn didn’t really see him for anything beyond a HIV test one time and another time for a torn muscle in his back he’d gotten when he and Maddy slipped in the shower during a particularly intense round of shower shagging. At least, until Flynn started to feel continuously sick a few weeks earlier.
Dr Richards cleared his throat, opening Flynn’s file to fold his hands in front of him across the pages. “Your blood results have shown some abnormalities, Mr Hunter. I would like to do a couple of additional investigations, though I’m afraid the results aren’t good.” He paused to take a breath and Flynn used the hesitation to jump in.
“What do you mean, ‘aren’t good’?” Flynn scoffed. “I’ve got the flu. You said antibiotics would take that away. I mean, yeah, the whole puking sucks and I feel like crap, but I’ve had this before. Everyone has. You said the tests were just routine. You said that!” He stared at the doctor, waiting for confirmation of everything he just said.
“They were routine, Mr Hunter. But they discovered the likely source of why you have been feeling so ill lately,” the doctor explained. “I will need to investigate further to confirm the diagnosis, but the blood results indicate that you have Acute Myeloid Leukemia. The progression looks to be aggressive and we will need to start treatment as soon as possible.”
Flynn gaped at him in shock. “Are you telling me I have cancer?” he managed to get out. “I’m dying?”
Dr Richards held his hand up. “No, this form of leukemia is very treatable and has a very high percentage of survival and remission rates, especially in adults. There is nothing to indicate intense chemotherapy will not be successful in combating it.”
Flynn tried to speak but found he couldn’t. Cancer… chemotherapy… His head was spinning and he felt a little like he was either drunk or had been hit in the head. He put his hand up to his cheek and all he managed to emit was a tiny whimpering sound.
The doctor stood and rounded the desk to sit beside Flynn. He leaned down so he could speak directly to his patient; when he did, his voice was soft and calm, his hand resting on Flynn’s arm. “You’re scared and that’s normal. I’m going to refer you to an Oncologist who specialises in this form of Leukemia and arrange a counselling session which is recommended for people newly diagnosed. I need to admit you to hospital, Flynn. The quicker we begin this process, the better prognosis we will have. Bombarding you with information now will not help. Did you come to this appointment with a friend or family member?”
Flynn gave the merest of nods. “Maddy,” he choked out in a hoarse whisper.
The rest of the appointment was a blur, merging in to a swirl of frightening voices and big words, and it was the start of a long road of the hardest, most frightening time of Flynn’s life.
Madison James [
canmakeufeel] referenced with permissionWords | 827
