Cliched but So Much More
Title: Cliched but So Much More
Author: hachi08
Rating: PG (swearing and mentions of unpleasant imagery)
Genre: angst, Sungmin's POV
Pairing: None, but hints of Sungmin/???
Summary: When a member is suddenly struck down with cancer, the others begin to realise that the hardest part is not facing the outcome of death, but instead surviving it.
A/n: Written whilst thinking about my dear daddy and how I can tell people the truth behind cancer survivors - life does not go back to normal when cancer has touched someone you love!
***
It was Spring by the time anyone noticed a change in you. Your voice, although deep, had suddenly changed. Instead of the smooth sound you always produced when you sang, a soft gravelly noise could be heard from the back of your throat.
Gradually, this sound became louder.
"It's just a sore throat..." you would reassure us hyungs, but in the end, I think Leeteuk was right when he forced you to a doctor.
"It's not normal!" he'd barked. He, like everyone else, was worried at the outcome.
Cancer had been the last thing on the you in your early twenties' mind.
Hell, it had been the last thing on everyone's mind.
At night, you'd cough and splutter, often rolling around, unable to sleep even though you were so tired.
"It's aggressive," the doctors had said, "We need to act fast."
With the right care, you would have a seventy-percent survival rate, given you didn't just up and die on the operating table.
"Will I die?" that was the question that scared me the most.
It was asked in such naive innocence that I could swear I was talking to a child who should not know the horrors of this sort of thing.
The doctor shook his head, explaining that he was unsure. He juxtaposed the evil unsureness with the old, cliched line: "We will do everything in our power to help."
That was the first time I held your hand while you cried.
The tumor was located on your vocal chords, directly in the middle of the throat. This meant, that in order to remove it, you was going to lose all of the lymph nodes in your neck, meaning your throat would be sliced from ear to ear. I could not stand the thought of such cruel fate to be given to such a kind person.
"Will I be able to sing again?" was the second question that scared me. I loved your voice so.
This specialist shook his head, once again unsure as to the outcome.
The doctor proceeded to explain about the hole in your throat that would be used for breathing.
You threw up on my shoes.
"Hyung, what happens if I die?" this was the question I'd been dreading coming from your mouth.
It had been asked at dinner and suddenly the atmosphere turned silent and cold.
"You won't." said Heechul.
"We won't let you." said Ryeowook.
"I won't let you..." I squeezed your hand under the table. You smiled for the rest of the meal. But back at our room, you questioned me again.
"What if I die?"
I pondered that question seriously.
If you died, my world would shatter. I am not sure if Super Junior could stand again knowing that there was a thirteenth space missing. I'm not sure if I could stand again..
"If you die, I'll get Siwon to pray to God to whoop your ass for dying on me." I'd joked. You'd laughed that dangerous gravelly laugh.
That was the first night I cried into my pillow when I was sure you was asleep.
I'd read books on dealing with a loved one with cancer. Each one stated that often the people in the household are more stressed than the actual person. To tell the truth, I wasn't sleeping. Leeteuk noticed it first, but I'd brushed him off.
Yesung, of all people, had been the one to make me see sense.
"He needs you to be there for him. We can't have you making yourself ill too!"
He'd been right, surprisingly.
The operation was only three weeks after you had been diagnosed. From the numerous biopsies and swabs taken we could tell the cancer wasn't advanced and there was a good survival rate, but it still scared me and everyone else shitless.
While other members, like Ryeowook, Yesung, Eunhyuk and Donghae could not be at your side due to being squeamish and most likely to cry seeing you attached to all of those machines; Leeteuk and I stood by you every step of the way.
Leeteuk stopped coming due to schedules after the third day, but I came everyday, even though I knew you were in a coma you would not be coming out of for a while. I read to you, held your hand, sang to you...
When you finally opened your eyes, I almost cried.
You tried to speak, but your throat was so swollen, all you could do was breathe deeply through the hole, moving your hand so you could stroke my face.
You were the one who needed comofrting; not me.
"You survived," I smiled, holding your hand and bringing it to my face. You'd tried to smile back.
I understood your message.
Chemotherapy and radiation had started only a day after you were awakened. Your family came to see you once I'd called them, and the rest of the members filed in after.
Three days after starting the chemo your hair started to fall out in large clumps. Your gorgeous brown locks were gone.
I told you that you looked just as gorgeous without hair and Heechul had gathered the other members to go shopping for pretty bandanas, hats, beanies and wigs for you to wear.
You passed the time trying each of the ridiculously coloured head wear on. You settled on wearing my pink and black beanie, the one with the baubles on it, because it reminded you of home; with the rest of us.
The swelling in your throat went down gradually but you still had a nice scar cutting straight across your neck.
You'd tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
You tried again.
Nothing happened.
You'd mouth words of frustration, meant for yourself, at me.
'Why can't I speak!?'
The doctor returned, explaining something or rather about the tumor being very in grown into your vocal chords.
Everyone present's eyes widened in shock.
You would never sing again...
This was about the one hundredth time you'd cried as I held you.
No one spoke of you and how you could still be apart of Super Junior without a voice. Everyone focused on you getting better, so hopefully you never thought about it either.
There was wonder day when I wheeled you around the rehab centre in your awesome wheelchair the members had customized - including, but not limited to, a pocket to place game consoles, a drink holder, racing stripes (from Donghae), a flag (Eunhyuk), a place to put a writing pad and pen (Eeteuk and Kangin) and gumball dispenser (Shindong) - that you gazed into the distance with a faraway look in your eyes.
I wondered if you could see something I couldn't.
Immediately, you'd started scribbling on your writing pad and I stared at you strangely for a minute; until I saw your message.
'This changes things, huh Min? I wonder what the future is like now.. I mean, I'm not dead yet!" You'd added a happy face to the end of your sentence. I smiled happily back at the paper.
"I'm not sure Kyuhyun-ah; but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger..."
Author: hachi08
Rating: PG (swearing and mentions of unpleasant imagery)
Genre: angst, Sungmin's POV
Pairing: None, but hints of Sungmin/???
Summary: When a member is suddenly struck down with cancer, the others begin to realise that the hardest part is not facing the outcome of death, but instead surviving it.
A/n: Written whilst thinking about my dear daddy and how I can tell people the truth behind cancer survivors - life does not go back to normal when cancer has touched someone you love!
***
It was Spring by the time anyone noticed a change in you. Your voice, although deep, had suddenly changed. Instead of the smooth sound you always produced when you sang, a soft gravelly noise could be heard from the back of your throat.
Gradually, this sound became louder.
"It's just a sore throat..." you would reassure us hyungs, but in the end, I think Leeteuk was right when he forced you to a doctor.
"It's not normal!" he'd barked. He, like everyone else, was worried at the outcome.
Cancer had been the last thing on the you in your early twenties' mind.
Hell, it had been the last thing on everyone's mind.
At night, you'd cough and splutter, often rolling around, unable to sleep even though you were so tired.
"It's aggressive," the doctors had said, "We need to act fast."
With the right care, you would have a seventy-percent survival rate, given you didn't just up and die on the operating table.
"Will I die?" that was the question that scared me the most.
It was asked in such naive innocence that I could swear I was talking to a child who should not know the horrors of this sort of thing.
The doctor shook his head, explaining that he was unsure. He juxtaposed the evil unsureness with the old, cliched line: "We will do everything in our power to help."
That was the first time I held your hand while you cried.
The tumor was located on your vocal chords, directly in the middle of the throat. This meant, that in order to remove it, you was going to lose all of the lymph nodes in your neck, meaning your throat would be sliced from ear to ear. I could not stand the thought of such cruel fate to be given to such a kind person.
"Will I be able to sing again?" was the second question that scared me. I loved your voice so.
This specialist shook his head, once again unsure as to the outcome.
The doctor proceeded to explain about the hole in your throat that would be used for breathing.
You threw up on my shoes.
"Hyung, what happens if I die?" this was the question I'd been dreading coming from your mouth.
It had been asked at dinner and suddenly the atmosphere turned silent and cold.
"You won't." said Heechul.
"We won't let you." said Ryeowook.
"I won't let you..." I squeezed your hand under the table. You smiled for the rest of the meal. But back at our room, you questioned me again.
"What if I die?"
I pondered that question seriously.
If you died, my world would shatter. I am not sure if Super Junior could stand again knowing that there was a thirteenth space missing. I'm not sure if I could stand again..
"If you die, I'll get Siwon to pray to God to whoop your ass for dying on me." I'd joked. You'd laughed that dangerous gravelly laugh.
That was the first night I cried into my pillow when I was sure you was asleep.
I'd read books on dealing with a loved one with cancer. Each one stated that often the people in the household are more stressed than the actual person. To tell the truth, I wasn't sleeping. Leeteuk noticed it first, but I'd brushed him off.
Yesung, of all people, had been the one to make me see sense.
"He needs you to be there for him. We can't have you making yourself ill too!"
He'd been right, surprisingly.
The operation was only three weeks after you had been diagnosed. From the numerous biopsies and swabs taken we could tell the cancer wasn't advanced and there was a good survival rate, but it still scared me and everyone else shitless.
While other members, like Ryeowook, Yesung, Eunhyuk and Donghae could not be at your side due to being squeamish and most likely to cry seeing you attached to all of those machines; Leeteuk and I stood by you every step of the way.
Leeteuk stopped coming due to schedules after the third day, but I came everyday, even though I knew you were in a coma you would not be coming out of for a while. I read to you, held your hand, sang to you...
When you finally opened your eyes, I almost cried.
You tried to speak, but your throat was so swollen, all you could do was breathe deeply through the hole, moving your hand so you could stroke my face.
You were the one who needed comofrting; not me.
"You survived," I smiled, holding your hand and bringing it to my face. You'd tried to smile back.
I understood your message.
Chemotherapy and radiation had started only a day after you were awakened. Your family came to see you once I'd called them, and the rest of the members filed in after.
Three days after starting the chemo your hair started to fall out in large clumps. Your gorgeous brown locks were gone.
I told you that you looked just as gorgeous without hair and Heechul had gathered the other members to go shopping for pretty bandanas, hats, beanies and wigs for you to wear.
You passed the time trying each of the ridiculously coloured head wear on. You settled on wearing my pink and black beanie, the one with the baubles on it, because it reminded you of home; with the rest of us.
The swelling in your throat went down gradually but you still had a nice scar cutting straight across your neck.
You'd tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
You tried again.
Nothing happened.
You'd mouth words of frustration, meant for yourself, at me.
'Why can't I speak!?'
The doctor returned, explaining something or rather about the tumor being very in grown into your vocal chords.
Everyone present's eyes widened in shock.
You would never sing again...
This was about the one hundredth time you'd cried as I held you.
No one spoke of you and how you could still be apart of Super Junior without a voice. Everyone focused on you getting better, so hopefully you never thought about it either.
There was wonder day when I wheeled you around the rehab centre in your awesome wheelchair the members had customized - including, but not limited to, a pocket to place game consoles, a drink holder, racing stripes (from Donghae), a flag (Eunhyuk), a place to put a writing pad and pen (Eeteuk and Kangin) and gumball dispenser (Shindong) - that you gazed into the distance with a faraway look in your eyes.
I wondered if you could see something I couldn't.
Immediately, you'd started scribbling on your writing pad and I stared at you strangely for a minute; until I saw your message.
'This changes things, huh Min? I wonder what the future is like now.. I mean, I'm not dead yet!" You'd added a happy face to the end of your sentence. I smiled happily back at the paper.
"I'm not sure Kyuhyun-ah; but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger..."