just_1_word | 25.1. Hands
25.1. Hands
Co-written with headofoncology | Follows THIS
Wilson hadn't committed himself to any projected time the test results could come in. When Rogue started to get restless around the time of Mia’s feed, Chase told her to go and breastfeed her. It would be better for both mother and daughter that way, and it was only a quick drive there and back. Rogue could be back within the hour because Chase was definitely not going anywhere for the moment. But Sod’s Law always had a way of stepping into Chase’s life and not more than ten minutes after Rogue left, Wilson knocked on Chase’s hospital door with the now thicker medical record in his hand.
Chase just started at him at first and then nodded in lieu of speaking to invite him into the room. Wilson pulled the curtain around the bed and sat down in the visitor’s chair beside Chase’s bed. The look on his face said it all and Chase felt a numbness start to creep through his veins. “Cancer,” he said, the word barely audible and seeming to drop like a tonne of bricks into his lap.
Wilson pressed his lips together momentarily and then nodded. “It’s Stage Two, Chase. The scans showed it has spread to the lymph nodes in your groin with signs it could be moving to those in your lower abdomen. This would explain that deep discomfort you’ve been feeling your back and stomach.” His eyes were intent on the younger man’s face. “Where’s your wife, Rob?”
“Feeding the baby,” Chase managed to get. “Keep going.”
Wilson wanted to protest that Chase needed time to process the news, but he was inevitably reacting like a lot of Wilson’s patients tended to, with blank indifference. When it hit later, it could be much worse and Wilson would have to talk to Chase’s wife and perhaps his closest friends to prepare them for it. “I’ve scheduled you for the orchiectomy to remove the testicle first thing Monday morning and once you’ve recovered from the surgery, we’ll need to start a regime of radiation and chemotherapy. You should go home and rest in preparation for the surgery.” He paused and then rested his hand over the top of Chase’s. “Do you want me to stay with you until she comes back?”
“No.” Chase pulled his hand away and folded his fingers tightly in his lap. “Just tell me what I need to do now.”
Wilson saw Chase’s knuckles turn white from the force of the grip. “You can get dressed and I’ll get the admission forms for the surgery on Monday. You’ll need to be here at six. You’ll be the first in. Nothing to-”
“Please don’t. I’m aware of pre-op procedures. Just bring the forms so I can go home,” Chase cut in, his words coming out in a quiet monotone and his eyes remained consistently averted from Wilson’s to the floor beside the seat he was sitting in.
Wilson stood up with a reluctant nod. “You can just buzz me if you need anything and you can call me any time of the day or night once you get home,” he explained and retrieved the pink plastic patient bag with Chase’s clothes in it from the cupboard beside the bed. He took an envelope from the file and placed it on the table beside the bed. “Copies of your test results in case you wanted to read them yourself.”
Chase didn’t say anything nor did he make any move to reach for the envelope. He just turned to look out the window to the dusk falling over the evening. When he heard the hospital room door slide close after Wilson’s departure, he picked up the envelope and threw it angrily and roughly against the wall. None of this was supposed to fucking happen.
Rogue [justalilcontact] referenced with permission
Word Count 630
Co-written with headofoncology | Follows THIS
Wilson hadn't committed himself to any projected time the test results could come in. When Rogue started to get restless around the time of Mia’s feed, Chase told her to go and breastfeed her. It would be better for both mother and daughter that way, and it was only a quick drive there and back. Rogue could be back within the hour because Chase was definitely not going anywhere for the moment. But Sod’s Law always had a way of stepping into Chase’s life and not more than ten minutes after Rogue left, Wilson knocked on Chase’s hospital door with the now thicker medical record in his hand.
Chase just started at him at first and then nodded in lieu of speaking to invite him into the room. Wilson pulled the curtain around the bed and sat down in the visitor’s chair beside Chase’s bed. The look on his face said it all and Chase felt a numbness start to creep through his veins. “Cancer,” he said, the word barely audible and seeming to drop like a tonne of bricks into his lap.
Wilson pressed his lips together momentarily and then nodded. “It’s Stage Two, Chase. The scans showed it has spread to the lymph nodes in your groin with signs it could be moving to those in your lower abdomen. This would explain that deep discomfort you’ve been feeling your back and stomach.” His eyes were intent on the younger man’s face. “Where’s your wife, Rob?”
“Feeding the baby,” Chase managed to get. “Keep going.”
Wilson wanted to protest that Chase needed time to process the news, but he was inevitably reacting like a lot of Wilson’s patients tended to, with blank indifference. When it hit later, it could be much worse and Wilson would have to talk to Chase’s wife and perhaps his closest friends to prepare them for it. “I’ve scheduled you for the orchiectomy to remove the testicle first thing Monday morning and once you’ve recovered from the surgery, we’ll need to start a regime of radiation and chemotherapy. You should go home and rest in preparation for the surgery.” He paused and then rested his hand over the top of Chase’s. “Do you want me to stay with you until she comes back?”
“No.” Chase pulled his hand away and folded his fingers tightly in his lap. “Just tell me what I need to do now.”
Wilson saw Chase’s knuckles turn white from the force of the grip. “You can get dressed and I’ll get the admission forms for the surgery on Monday. You’ll need to be here at six. You’ll be the first in. Nothing to-”
“Please don’t. I’m aware of pre-op procedures. Just bring the forms so I can go home,” Chase cut in, his words coming out in a quiet monotone and his eyes remained consistently averted from Wilson’s to the floor beside the seat he was sitting in.
Wilson stood up with a reluctant nod. “You can just buzz me if you need anything and you can call me any time of the day or night once you get home,” he explained and retrieved the pink plastic patient bag with Chase’s clothes in it from the cupboard beside the bed. He took an envelope from the file and placed it on the table beside the bed. “Copies of your test results in case you wanted to read them yourself.”
Chase didn’t say anything nor did he make any move to reach for the envelope. He just turned to look out the window to the dusk falling over the evening. When he heard the hospital room door slide close after Wilson’s departure, he picked up the envelope and threw it angrily and roughly against the wall. None of this was supposed to fucking happen.
Rogue [justalilcontact] referenced with permission
Word Count 630