pointlessdedication

[pointlessdedication]

An Untitled Story Pt. 3

So what happens after Dan collapses? Find out now! (it's 1802 words long, i really hope u like it)

Phil

The Uber finally arrives after what felt like the longest two minutes in the world. I hurry to the car with Dan wrapped in between my arms. The driver opens the door and I carefully help Dan inside. He is gasping for air and crying and I am freaking out. I run to the other side of the car, open the door, get in and yell to the 20-year-old boy to hurry up. I get on the phone and rush the words as I try to explain to Doctor Michigan the situation. We finally arrive to the hospital, and thankfully the doctor has sent an emergency team to receive us. They quickly put Dan on a gurney and run towards the entrance. I follow and I try to understand what they are mumbling and what they are giving Dan but all I can think is that he is in pain. I follow them until they tell me that I have to stay behind. I protest. “WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? I WON’T LEAVE HIM ALONE. HE NEEDS ME. I NEED HIM. YOU NEED TO LET ME IN. RIGHT. NOW.” I’m screaming. I’m yelling so loud I’m pretty sure the entire hospital can hear me and I don’t care.

“Sir, please let go of my arm. You need to stay here if you want us to help him,” A woman says.

I realize only then that I’m squeezing her elbow in between my fingers. I let go like all of a sudden her arm is on fire.

“I’m sorry,” I step away from her and stare at her hair as they take Dan away.

––––

It’s been an hour and I still haven’t heard news from Dan but of course I had already googled all that I remembered. I encountered quite a few results. I got to the conclusion that the one that made the most sense was that Dan’s chest had filled with “liquid". A classic symptom of lung cancer as the webpage described it. I had gone through so many results my head was in quite a lot of pain. It was when I had decided to go get some food that I saw Doctor Michigan coming out of the crystal doors where I had last seen Dan. His caramel eyes were wide and he was in a blue suit.

“Hi, Phil,” he greets me with kind eyes and a discrete smile.

“How is he?” I do not have time for formalities right now.

“He is okay. You got here just in time. His lung would’ve collapsed had you gotten here a bit later. His chest filled with liquid. It’s normal, when it comes to lung cancer, I’m afraid. I was actually surprised Daniel hadn’t had an episode like this yet. But he is stable now. You can come see him, if you wish,” he points at the elevator. “Floor 5, room 507, I believe.”

I'm so angry and frustrated but also extremely relieved. I feel like my knees are going to give in so I sit back on the chair.

“Is this going to happen again?” I try to ask with my kindest tone.

“We’ll give him some drugs to control it, as I said before, it is extremely common for a patient with lung cancer to suffer from episodes like this. The gdfgdjf will have to be increased too, of course, we don’t want him to have gastritis too, now do we?” He forces a laugh. I just stare at him. “In any case, I will explain the new treatment with more calm later. I wish Daniel to stay here for a couple nights for observation. I want to see how the medicine works for him and if it’s the right one for his state. Wouldn’t want to send you fellas home with a nonfunctioning drug, huh?” He chuckles again. “Well, I’ll stop by later. He needs to rest,” he looks at me intently. “I’d say you let him sleep the rest of today and I’ll see you tomorrow first thing in the morning.”

“What about the new medicine?” I asked with a monotone voice.

“It’s already been administered to him. I can explain everything right now if you wish so, but I think it would be better to do so when Daniel’s awake,” he looks at me expecting an answer. I just nod. “Well then, until tomorrow,” he says and then he leaves. I stare at him until he goes behind the crystal doors.

My hands are shaking and a numb feeling has spread down my legs. What did he mean by ‘a bit later’ and how could he casually suggest the possibility of Dan’s lung collapsing? Why would he use the term ‘normal’ when there is absolutely nothing normal about having a malign tumor eating the life out of you? How could he laugh at Dan’s condition? Was it a nervous laugh? Was he trying to make me feel better? Lighten the mood? It clearly didn’t work. What a stupid way to refer to Dan. “Daniel”, the guy with an almost collapsed lung and borderline gastritis. Ha ha ha. Hilarious.

––––

The next morning I wake up with a cramped neck and an almost unbearable backache. I look towards the bed where Dan’s chest is slowly rising and falling. I get up and stretch my arms and legs. My back is certainly going to hurt all day. I walk towards the bed and push Dan’s fringe back, away from his forehead. He looks so peaceful, completely unaware of what could’ve happened had we gotten to the hospital ‘a bit later’. I grab my phone from the table across the room, it’s 8am and I have a missed call from Dan’s mom. I called her as soon as the crystal doors closed after Dan and then again after doctor Bitchigan had explained to me what had happened to him and I was able to assure her Dan was stable. She was in America when the incident happened and had booked a flight as soon as I informed her what had happened. I call her.

Dan

I wake up to the sight of Phil pacing and talking quietly on the phone. I assume he's talking with my parents so I close my eyes and pretend I'm still asleep because I want to know what the fuck happened yesterday. I can feel tubes coming out of different parts of my body. I try to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that is spreading in my chest. I would tell Phil if it started feeling anything like it felt yesterday, but what I’m feeling now is just an echo of the hell I was in. I can feel the warmth of the sunlight dancing on my face and I turn my head towards the window trying to absorb as much of it as possible. Phil notices.

“Yeah, I think he just woke up, give me a second,” he says to the person on the phone. “Dan, Dan are you awake?” He whispers very close to my face. I don’t reply. I’m not ready to face his eyes. “Oh, I guess he’s not.” I can feel his hand on my shoulder. “Yes, he looks a lot better,” he traces the dark circles under my eyes with the tips of his fingers, “but he does look tired. No, he slept all night, the doctor asked me not to disturb him. Yes, I did sleep in the room; a nurse came in twice in the night to check on him… No, no he hasn’t come by, he said he would first thing in the morning… Yes, I know, I already texted him but he has not replied. Yes, okay, I’ll see you soon then. Right, sure, take care, bye,” he hangs up and sighs.

Phil

I sit on the couch and stare at Dan. The dark circles under his eyes are a deep purple and his lips are so dry they’ve parted in the middle. I can see his heart rate in the IVM machine and it’s steady. That makes me feel better. I unlock my phone and text Doctor Bitchigan.

Dan’s mom will be here in an hour, please do let me know when you are arriving. I’m sure she’ll want to know about the new medications and all that. Thank you. -Phil L.

I lock my phone and get up again. I rumble though my backpack for change; though one of the tubes connected to Dan’s body is supposed to keep him hydrated the state of his lips makes me think it’s not doing its job properly. I head for the door and towards the pharmacy at the lobby.

Dan

I hear the door close and for a second I wonder if either the doctor or my mom have arrived but when the room is submerged in absolute silence I realize Phil left. I open my eyes again and look around the room. The couch where I’m guessing Phil slept in is smaller than a loveseat and I feel a pinch of guilt in the pit of my stomach. He could’ve gone home, he should’ve. I take advantage of the fact that I’m alone to see what they’ve done to me. There are tubes under my nose, and a needle on the inside of my elbow connected to a bag filled with transparent liquid. I feel a burning sensation on the inside of my throat, like somebody stuffed my mouth with shredded glass. Last night I thought I was going to die, there is no doubt in my mind, and I wasn’t ready. All I could l think about was how easily and rapidly everyone would forget me, no trace of my existence left; nothing worth reliving anyway. I feel the crushing fear again; I’ve felt it ever since I found out I had cancer but last night made everything seem more present. I hear my heartbeat race and try to steady it with no success when the door flies open. Phil rushes in with a plastic bag in his hand.

“Is everything okay?” He’s out of breath.

“You mean, besides the fact that I almost die last night? Yeah, everything’s tip-top!” I say dripping sarcasm.

“Not funny Dan, here,” he says handing me the plastic bag, “I got you some Chapstick, your lips look like they are about to fall off.” I take the bag and rumble inside to find the Chapstick. There’s also Haribo in it.

“I can’t believe I almost died and yet, you still somehow managed to find time to buy snacks, it’s truly an impressive skill, Phil,” I apply the Chapstick and my lips feel relieved.

“You were out of any immediate danger already and it was next to the register, let me be,” he replies opening the bag of Haribo.

[pointlessdedication]

An Untitled Story Pt. 2

Hi, it's me again. This is part two of what I posted yesterday. Dan has an episode. It's 1245 words long :)

Dan

It’s not the first time that this happens, lately it happens quite often. Phil is always crying and it kills me that I’m the reason why. I sit across the door and wait for his breathing to steady; Phil’s regular breathing always makes me feel better. I have to convince him to get out of here before my illness finally drives him insane. I need him to leave, to get away from all this mess. I’m looking at my hands when I hear the door open.

“Dan, what are you doing there?” He asks as he offers his hand for support to get up.

“Well, I paused the show but you’ve been in here for forever so I figured you weren’t actually peeing... and then I heard you crying,” I reply as I take his hand and pull it dragging him down with me. “Phil, I know I’ve told you this before, and I know how you are going to react but honestly, if this is too much for you I can stay at my parents’, they are here almost all the time anyways.” I say looking down at my hands again.

“Dan, stop it already, alright?” He replies.

I can feel him staring at me, so intensely I have to look up.

“But Phil, the last thing I want is for you to be in pain or whatever, I just don’t want to see you like this, so br– eh anyway, I think you should get some time to relax and maybe film some videos or something,” I say as I fake a smile. He’s probably going to see right through it.

“Oh Dan, I get that you need to get out of here from time to time, how about we go visit my grandparents? We always go there when we need to escape, I’ll call doctor Michigan, I’m sure he’s going to be okay with it, just give me a sec,” he says as he stands up.

He offers me his hand once again, I grab it and hang to his shoulder with my other hand, I gasp as I stands up, Phil moves his free hand towards my ribcage and holds me, we stay like that a couple of seconds until I catch my breath. I look down at him and he smiles.

“I’ll be right back, we should start packing tonight.”

Phil

I head towards my room where I had left my phone to call the doctor. Maybe a break away from London will help both of us. I know Dan worries about me, and I don’t make it any easier by crying constantly, but he tries to keep the balance by being mostly neutral, like just now. He always does that. Interrupts his train of thought and continues with something that doesn’t involve touchy-feely words. I grab my phone and call Doctor Michigan.

“Hello?” The lovely Scottish accent again.

“Oh, hi. I would like to speak to Doctor Michigan, please,” I reply.

“Of course, just a minute. Who should I say is calling?”

“Eh, Phil Lester, in regards of one of his patients– Daniel Howell,” I answer, “We’ve just been there a couple hours ago, actually.”

“Oh, right, of course, just a moment Phil,” she really does have a lovely accent. I wait for 40 seconds before a new voice answers the phone.

“Doctor Michigan here,” he sounds like he is in a hurry. I suddenly remember how I acted the last time I saw him, perhaps calling him today wasn’t the greatest idea…

“Doctor, hi, it’s me, Phil, I would like to apologize for how I reacted today, I guess I was expecting better news, but it still doesn’t justify my lack of manners. Dan and I will see you this Friday,” I can’t get to the trip part because he interrupts me.

“Yes, Phil, do not worry about any of it. You were actually pretty calm compared to some other encounters I’ve had. Was that all?” He rushed through his words so I try to do the same.

“No, I was thinking about taking Dan outside the city, to my grandparents’ in the North. Just wondering if there would be any trouble with that.”

“Actually, I think that’ll be great for Dan. On Friday we can schedule for the surgery and you can take home some chemotherapy to keep the tumor in check.”

“Of course. Thanks Doctor Michigan, we’ll see you then.”

“See you,” he hangs up and in that moment I realize I could’ve just asked him about it on Friday.

Dan

Phil leaves, and heads towards his room almost sprinting. I sigh once I know he’s too far away to hear me. I love Phil, truly, I do, but it’s gotten to the point where are I cannot look at his face without feeling guilty for the pain I’m causing him. When I told him that he needed a break, I did not mean a break with me, I meant a break from me, but these days it is impossible to spend more than 10 minutes without him looking worryingly at me or finding new creative and inventive ways of asking me how I’m feeling, unless he’s hiding and crying, of course. I’m walking towards the kitchen and I can feel the fire spreading in my chest. I try to maintain my breathing steady but it’s like trying to sneeze with my eyes open. I let out another frustrated sigh.

“I just called Doctor Michigan, only to realize we could’ve asked him on Friday,” I turn around to see Phil standing no further than two steps away from me staring at my weak figure with wide worried eyes. I fake a laugh, maybe that’ll help.

“Oh, Phil. Well, did you at least apologize to the poor guy?” I say as I turn back into the kitchen.

“Are you hungry? Do you want to order some take out?” He is again right by my side.

“No, thank you, I’m not hungry, I just wanted some water,” I reply realizing he’s done it again. Ever since I started getting chemo, I barely eat but it is only when I am truly feeling shitty that I don’t even try to eat, and Phil knows that.

“Oh okay, well do you want to finish the episode I so rudely interrupted or…”

His words are left hanging in the air because I suddenly start coughing, I start to feel an unbearable pain in my chest, like it’s on fire but also like it’s filling with water. I’m coughing and my sight has gone blurry, I can hear Phil yelling my name, I can feel his arm around my waist but I can’t stop coughing. I feel a warm liquid on the hand that I’m using to cover my mouth and I lose it. I look at it and it’s a blurry red mess. Somehow we’ve made it downstairs and I hear Phil closing our main door behind me.

“It’s okay Dan, it’s alright, the Uber is just around the corner. It’s okay, it’s okay,” I can hear Phil’s voice close to my face and I can feel his arm firmly wrapped around my waist but my eyesight is still blurry. I try to blink the tears away but more come out. I shake my head and I try to inhale as much air as possible but my chest is still burning and I feel like I’m about to collapse.

[pointlessdedication]

An untitled story

hi, this is something i wrote a long time ago, for further explanation you can see my previous post. this is only a small part of the whole fanfiction, but it's still 2,231 words, which might sound like too much. it's about dan and phil. hope you enjoy.

-----.-----

Phil

It has been almost a year since Dan was diagnosed with lung cancer. Today we are headed for the hospital to get the results of the tests that will determine if he is cancer free. Google says that there is a 92% of chance he is going to be fine, and for once, I'm wishing Google is right.

He has fallen asleep and his head is resting on my left shoulder, I can see his chest moving up and down. I look out the window to realize that we are a couple of blocks away so I start to wake him up. Summer in London can be disgustingly warm and today it’s particularly moist. Dan’s hair has gone really curly because of the sweat forming on his forehead. I reach for his shoulder and shake it lightly.

"Dan," I say. "Dan, wake up. We are almost there."

He sighs and slowly removes his head from my shoulder. He rubs his eyes and looks at the window. I mimic him.

When we get there I pay the driver and open the door for both Dan and I to get out, but being the stubborn man he is, he opens the door on his side. I don't want him to feel like I have started to treat him differently or that I pity him, but no matter how much time has passed since this started, I could never get used to seeing my best friend dying. I try to act normal anyway and I walk to the entrance of the hospital feeling a pinch of guilt in my stomach for letting him walk on his own but I know, I think, that's what he prefers. A year ago, when Dan was diagnosed, he was alone at the doctor's and he had entered into shock, later that day, when he arrived home and I asked what was wrong, he exploded. He looked at me for a couple of seconds before tears started streaming down his face, he grabbed the first thing his hand could reach and threw it against the wall, then continued to melt onto the floor and started mumbling every curse word he knew. I kneeled next to him and placed my hand on his shoulder, he turned his face to look at me; stood up, sat on the couch and told me everything the doctor had told him. The next day, when we went for his first session, the doctor explained that the cancer had spread from his right lung to the lymph nodes in the center of his chest, which meant that he was on stage two. He said that almost no one gets the proper attention in order to find the cancer whilst the tumor is still on the lung– I still don't know how that was supposed to make us feel better; I know it didn't. Stage two basically means that you are screwed, that you can't simply remove the tumor because it has already spread and made itself a very cozy home. A year ago when the doctor had told us he needed chemotherapy and probably radiotherapy it meant nothing to me, but today, I am quite the expert on cancer.

As we walk down the hall I can hear Dan's unsteady breathing behind me, I clench my fists, close my eyes and take a deep breath. I try my best to swallow the knot forming down my throat; I look back and smile at him. He raises his eyebrows and replies with a small side smile. It's maybe impolite to think it but he looks awful. There’s no life in his eyes and the dark circles under them definitely don't help. His lips are red and swollen because he just won't stop biting them, his face looks drained from life and he has lost a lot of weight.

We reach the doctor's office and I start biting my nails– that’s a new habit, and a terrible one considering I always make my fingers bleed before I realize I have gone too far. We sit on the chairs the doctor offers us as he sits on one himself. His hands are trembling, and he looks rather stressed. Is there a new patient? Has somebody died? A surgery gone wrong? I stop the negative thoughts and try to focus on my own trembling hands.

"Gentleman, hello, it is very nice to see you again," the doctor says as he plays with his pen. "I, we, spent the entire night looking at your results, talking about your case and how the treatment has affected the tumors forming in your chest, and I have both good and bad news. The tumors that were located on the lymph nodes have completely disappeared, unfortunately, the one that is all over your lung, is still there, and even though its growth has been slowed down, there is a big chance that the chemotherapy will not get rid of it. “I didn't want to say it like this but unfortunately, I cannot rename medical terms, you have failed the chemotherapy. And this, in no way, means that it is your fault, however, it is imperative that we find another solution to your problem before the tumor finds a new place to spread."

We are both quiet. I search the entirety of my brain for something appropriate to say but it is as if everything has been wiped. I command myself to speak but I cannot seem to find my mouth, I cannot feel my face and I cannot find the strength to move my lips or my tongue, I feel my eyes fall to the doctor's face and that's where they stay. I am unaware of the rest of my body. I can't feel anything. I can't hear, I can't speak.

"There are other solutions," the doctor continues, he sounds like he’s really far away, "now that the cancer that had spread outside the lung area has been eliminated the possibility of surgery is viable again, and actually, the only option."

"So, that means that now there is a possibility of removing the bit of the lung that has been affected," says Dan. He is sitting next to me but the ringing in my ears makes it difficult to hear him clearly.

"Well, not exactly, you see, even though the chemotherapy slowed down the development of the tumor, it did not stop it. Your lung is completely covered by the cancer," the doctor replies as he lays his eyes on me. I should say something.

"Which means that you would have to–" Dan is unable to finish the sentence because the doctor interrupts him.

"Remove your lung entirely. Yes."

I wasn't expecting this. I had been too positive, too careless; it is my fault that my best friend is losing his lung. I could've done more. I could’ve done something better.

"As I said before, this is nobody's fault, the treatment simply didn't work, but we have options Daniel, and I'm sure you are going to be okay," the doctor continues but he isn't looking at Dan he is looking at me and someone who talks just like me starts shouting.

"And how could you know?! You told us that the chemotherapy would most certainly work, but it didn't, did it? So what happens if you leave Dan with one lung and then it doesn't work? How can we trust such an incompetent doctor like y-" I feel a hand on my shoulder, the screaming voice was me, I had stood up, and was leaning towards the doctor, Dan is now holding me back with both hands. I sigh and leave the room quickly. Well done Phil, this is the moment you decide to explode, screaming at the guy you have trusted Dan's life to. Amazing. You are so stupid. Dan's long fingers wrap around my arm, I turn around to see him half smiling.

"It's going to be okay Phil, don't let out the rage monster no one is supposed to know about in front of the guy who gives me the drugs," he laughs.

"I am so sorry Dan, you shouldn’t be the one comforting me. I just, I can't lose you." I say as I get the credit card out of my pocket and walk towards the reecptionist. It feels like that sentence has lost all meaning after saying it so many times.

"Eh, here's the money for the exams and, you know, everything."

"The doctor would like to see Daniel this Friday, at what time should I make the appointment?" The receptionist asks in a very lovely Scottish accent.

"Uhh, Dan?” I ask as I turn to see him typing on his phone.

"Yeah, anything after 12 is okay,” he replies, not looking away from the screen.

"Okay dear, I have a free space at 12:30, is that alright?" She asks looking up at me with big green eyes.

I nod and see her type Dan’s name onto the computer.

"Thank you, I'll see you Friday then,” I say as I make my way towards the door.

–––––

We arrive to our apartment and I hold my breath when I hear Dan’s irregular breathing as he climbs up the stairs. Walking up the stairs is tiring enough; now imagine walking up the stairs when you have lung cancer. He goes straight to his room; there really is not much to do when you have cancer. I go to the kitchen and decide we deserve to eat some microwaved popcorn. I walk into his room with a bowl in one hand and a new anime we ordered a couple weeks ago in the other.

"Hey you. I brought some popcorn and, guess what arrived today? Do you fancy watching some anime?" I ask him as I sit on his bed.

"Wild Tuesday night plans, I see,” he says mockingly.

“Yeah, well, we are not usually very wild, now are we?” I say as I rest my back against his headboard. Dan arches his eyebrows and smirks.

“Don’t ever say that out loud again,” he answers as he closes his MacBook and gets up from his bed. "Come on, let’s watch it on the big TV."

We make our way to the living room and we sit on the same spots we've been sitting on for the past five years.

As we watch the TV I find my mind wandering, the specific cancer that was slowly killing Dan is called Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer Adenocarcinoma and it had been, for the most part, our only topic of conversation this past year. I remember the first couple of months perfectly, though I wish my brain had blocked them. We fought so much during the first days; it is hard to remember it now. When I first found out I was really supportive, told Dan I'd be there every single step of the way and that it was all going to work out alright but I wasn't really aware of what I was promising; I was in a state of denial that prevented me from understanding that my best friend was dying. With every visit to the doctor my positive attitude decayed and so did Dan's. I realize only when the subtitles become a blur that there are tears streaming down my face. I fake a yawn and dry what I can with the tips of my fingers as discretely as my clumsy hands allow me. I see Dan looking through the side of his eyes towards my direction so I excuse myself and head towards the bathroom. I inhale and exhale– once, twice, I do it until the knot down my throat is gone. This is something that has happened before, I sigh and wash my face trying to get rid of the red patches on my cheeks but my eyes are swollen enough for him to notice so I sit on the floor and wait for my face to return to its normal state. I can hear my steady breathing now that I’m calm and it troubles me knowing that Dan’s breathing will never be steady anymore. I dismiss the thought before I start crying again. I wonder what would be different if Dan wasn’t sick. We were incredibly happy, the years before he got ill had been the best for both of us, we went to Japan, we published two books, we hosted awards and events, we went on tour, we created a gaming channel, we had never been happier and then one day it was all over. As the days passed, Dan slowly became too ill to film and I was often too busy taking care of him, there wasn’t much I could talk about in videos anyway. The first couple of months our subscribers were incredibly supportive, they made trending topics, commented in all our recent videos, tweeted us, all of them telling us how this would be over soon and that they’d be with us till the end, but 11 months later I had lost around 250,000 subscribers and Dan had lost around 100,000. I don’t blame them though, not all of them care about us enough to stay with Dan and I through this rough patch. I stand up and open the door only to find Dan sitting in front of the door across the hallway.

[pointlessdedication]

a looooooooong time ago dan said that he wanted to read a fanfiction where he died rather than phil and i decided to write one, however, i never finished it, but since im turning 20 pretty soon i decided to just get it over with and i was thinking about sharing with tumblr the first part of it and seeing if people like it cause my self-esteem needs it tbh.