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heauxplesslydevoted · 3 years ago

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Then & Now (Ethan x MC)

Summary: A particularly difficult case forces Ethan to confront a blast from his past

A/N: This popped into my head and I had too much fun writing it. I will loosely incorporate some of the themes from book 3 and make them better, but this is mostly an AU.

A/N 2: Yes I’m writing another multipart fic while actively ignoring my others. The muses spoke and I had no choice in the matter. Enjoy!

~v~

“Would you like some more coffee, Dr. Ramsey?”

Whatever line he was reading in his textbook blurs as does his vision. Ethan looks up at the face of the newest member of the team, a young resident, Isabelle. He takes the cup, not missing the way her eyes light up as he does so. What is it with residents and their incessant need to kiss-ass and be people pleasers?

“Thank you, Dr. Proctor.”

“Of course! I figured we’d need all the caffeine we could get our hands on with this case.”

Ethan doesn’t respond with words, only offering the young woman a hum in acknowledgement. Instead his eyes land on his coworker, Harper Emery. “Harper, has your team been able to come up with anything new?”

“Nothing,” Harper replies with a resigned sigh.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’ve run as many tests, MRIs and CT scans as I could, and none of them came back with anything conclusive. We’re officially back to square one.”

Ethan hasn’t been this stumped in years. A week ago, a patient came to Edenbrook after waking up without being able to feel anything from the waist down. A young, relatively healthy 25 year old with no extraordinary medical history, no recent reports of any TBI, nothing. He assumed with Harper–one of the nation’s greatest neurosurgeons–on the case, that this would be a simple fix.

As painful as it is to admit, he’s wrong.

They’ve gotten nowhere with the case, they’ve made no progress, and to make matters worse, he has Leland Bloom and the board breathing down his neck because it’s been years since the team has spent more than a week on a case, so a week with no news reflects poorly on them—on him, as the team’s leader specifically.

The last member of the team, Tobias, clears his throat. “Did he ever mention getting into a fight? Maybe he took a hit to the head, and just doesn’t want to admit it?”

“Maybe, but like I said, none of the CT scans or MRIs showed me anything out of the norm,” Harper says. “I can always ask him again.”

“That’d be ideal–”

Ethan’s sentence is cut off as the door to their office is thrown open, and in walks Leland. “Hello, team!”

The most senior members of the team stay silent, but Isabelle gives a slight wave. “Hello, Mr. Bloom.”

“Dr. Proctor,” Leland greets in turn. “Nice to know at least one of you has manners.”

Ethan checks the time on his watch. “What are you doing here, Bloom?”

“Last time I checked, I owned this entire building and I didn’t need to ask your permission to be here.”

“We’re nearing midnight,” Ethan adds. “What are you still doing here, and not at home? I’m sure Mrs. Bloom would enjoy seeing you.”

Leland ignores the mention of his wife Caroline, pretending like she wasn’t mentioned at all. “I just stopped by your patient’s room to see how he was doing. And then I decided to drop by to check in with you guys. Are there any updates on the Miller case?”

“I’m not discussing patient information with you,” Ethan says.

“Well, I am your boss.”

“And until you go to medical school, graduate, become a doctor at this hospital, and join in on this case, I don’t have to tell you anything. You may own this hospital, but I do not have to discuss my patients with you.”

“Okay, so you guys have no new information,” Leland concludes.

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance, this conversation giving him a headache even though it just started. “We were actually in the middle of a brainstorming session before we were interrupted, so if we could have some privacy again, that would be much appreciated.”

Ethan’s tone causes Leland to drop the veneer of kindness, the smile dropping from his face only for a second before he catches it. He looks away and sniffs haughtily. “Fine. I’ll check in with the patient tomorrow for a status update, since it’s clear I won’t be getting it from my employees. Thankfully, his father and I go way back.”

“I can’t stop the patient from divulging his own information.”

Leland glances around the room one more time, his gaze lingering on Ethan a bit longer than it does on the other occupants. “Goodnight, doctors.”

Once Leland leaves, Harper turns towards Ethan. “You act like it would literally kill you to be nice to him.”

“Be nice for what? Bloom thinks we owe him undying loyalty and infinite ass kissing because he bought the hospital. He’s pulled a lot of nonsense since moving into this position, but he’s not worth breaking any laws over. My patients deserve their privacy.”

“And I agree, but the extra hostility isn’t needed. The last thing we need is World War 3 with you and Bloom tearing down the hospital. Just be nice.”

“Okay, are we getting back to work or calling it a night?”

The rest of the team glances around each other. Pulling an all-nighter with Ethan while he’s in a foul mood sounds like a nightmare.

“We’re calling it a night.”

~v~

Ethan ends up falling asleep in the office, finally dozing off around 5 o'clock in the morning, surrounded by a mountain of books and the harsh light of his computer screen. The sleep is short lived though as the sound of his pager wakes him up.

He jumps up with a start, and checks the time on his watch before checking his pager. He only managed to get two hours of sleep, but he can’t dwell on that. The page is a 911 alert to his patient’s room.

“Shit!”

He takes off to the 4th floor where his patient is housed, thankful that the early morning hour means the hospital is not yet flooded with people.

Isabelle, Harper, and a nurse are already in the room when Ethan finally makes it. “What’s going on?”

“He had a seizure,” Harper explains.

“How long did it last?”

“Around 50 seconds. We administered lorazepam into his IV.”

“Could this be a new symptom?” Valencia asks. “Or something else entirely?”

Harper shrugs. “I don’t know, but I’m going to take him down to radiology for another CT scan. Hopefully this next one can actually yield some results.”

Ethan nods. “That sounds like a plan. In the meantime, Dr. Proctor, add seizures onto the list of symptoms to broaden our search criteria. Maybe that’ll help.”

“Gotcha.”

“We’ll reconvene when Tobias comes in and once we get the new CT scans back.”

There’s a knock at the door and Ethan bristles when Leland’s loud voice calls out to him. “Dr. Ramsey, can I speak to you out in the hallway?”

“With all due respect, I’d rather not.”

“It wasn’t a request, doctor. Hallway, now.”

Ethan shoots Harper a look, and she gives him a quick sympathy smile before he and Leland step out into the hallway.

They move a few feet away from the patient’s door, out of earshot before Leland lays into Ethan. “How in the hell is the patient actually managing to get worse under your care?”

The question actually takes Ethan aback. “You can’t possibly be saying his condition is my fault?”

“I’m saying he’s been here for a week now, and he’s no better off than where he was. You don’t have any information to give him or his family. Do you know how many phone calls my assistant has had to field because they want to get him transferred to a different facility?”

“We are giving him the best care possible, Leland. Just because you and his father belong to the same country club or whatever, does not mean there’ll be some instant diagnosis or treatment that he can buy...or steal. We need to do our due diligence.”

Leland is smart enough to know when a dig is being lobbed in his direction. His eyes narrow. “What are you trying to say, Ethan?”

“Exactly what I just did. Besides, why do you have such a vested interest in my team and what we do? I’m sure you have other businesses and people to micromanage these days.”

“You guys don’t make me any money yet remain my biggest cost. The least you can do is be efficient and answer my questions when I ask.”

“And like I told you last night, I know you own this place. You never let me forget it. But you buying this hospital does not mean I am here at your beck and call, now does it mean I have to be governed under anything that isn’t set forth by the American Medical Association. Now, me team is the best this hospital and this city have to offer, so back up and let us do our jobs.”

“You guys are the best?” Leland chuckles humorlessly. “Act like it. Or I’ll find someone else who can.”

The threat causes Ethan to pause. “What does that mean?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Dr. Ramsey. Loud and clear.”

~v~

“You idiot! Why on earth would you get into a fight with Bloom in the middle of a hallway?”

Ethan doesn’t try to school his bored expression as Tobias paces the entire length of the office, huffing and puffing as he does so.

“I didn’t get into a fight with him,” Ethan amends. “It was an exchange of words.”

“A loud exchange of words,” Harper adds. “In front of our patient’s room, might I add.”

“I had plans for this day to be productive, but the minute that man opens his mouth, I just–”

“We get it, you don’t like him,” Tobias interjects.

“Disliking Leland is an understatement.”

Isabelle stays silent, unable to find a good place to cut in, despite having questions. Ethan’s dislike of Leland Bloom is the hospital’s worst kept secret, but the contention has always been passive aggressive at best. And as a second year resident, she doesn’t have any background knowledge on why the relationship is the way that it is.

“I don’t like him either, but you don’t see me needling him in front of the nurse’s station!”

“Sure Leland is...obnoxious at times, but I don’t understand any of it,” Isabelle says, finally speaking up. Ethan looks at her as if he’s just now remembering that she’s been in the room the entire time. “What happened that caused this much animosity?”

Leland’s kidney disease wasn’t a major secret. Most medical personnel that worked at Edenbrook and the larger Boston area remember the huge media blitz, and all of the pomp and circumstance surrounding his hospitalization early last year. And the official story is Leland got a kidney from a family member who wished to keep their identity a secret from the public, and everyone ate it up.

Only a handful of people know the truth. That a few well placed phone calls and dollars exchanged got Leland to the top of the donor list within a day, stealing a second chance from the true person at the top of the list: a 14 year old girl.

“So long as there is breath in my body, Leland Bloom and his ilk will never get an ounce of respect from me, and I’ll just leave it at that,” Ethan says cooly. “And that’s all you need to know, Dr. Proctor.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just saying man, Bloom is petty,” Tobias adds. “Men like him, who think the rest of us should bow at their feet, don’t take kindly to getting told off, especially in public. Underneath the billions is a tiny ass, fragile ego. Can you just keep a low profile and be quiet for the next day or two, so Bloom doesn’t dismantle this team?”

“I’ll be as cordial as Bloom is,” is what Ethan settles upon. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

The only thing that can rival Ethan’s intelligence is his stubbornness. Tobias knows it’s the best he’s going to get out of Ethan, so he relents. “Okay.”

“Good. Now can we get back to work and stop talking about Bloom?”

His team nods and Ethan sighs in relief.. They still have a chance to turn things around and actually have a good day.

They fall into a productive routine, tossing around different theories, sharing research and narrowing down ideas. Too bad that only lasts for about half an hour before there’s a knock at the office door. A few seconds later, Naveen pokes his head in.

Ethan smiles because part of him was expecting Leland to show up again. “Naveen, this is a nice surprise! Don’t tell me you’re ready to get back in the saddle.”

Naveen laughs good-naturedly at his mentee. “Not quite.”

“Well what brings you down here?”

“I wanted to talk to you for a second, Ethan,” Naveen says.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. It’s not about me, it’s work related. Team related news, that I wanted to tell you personally,” Naveen explains, fully entering the office. “Is there any way I could steal you for a few minutes?”

“If it involves the team, I think we can have the conversation here. Is this about my...spirited discussion with Leland?”

“No, it’s about the case you’re working on.”

“Now I know we don’t usually work on cases for this long, and we’re working on it.”

“I know. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Leland has some concerns about how long it’s taking you guys to treat this patient, and he told me that he wants to outsource some extra help to speed things along.”

“No thank you.”

“He’s already made phone calls. I’m just here to give you a heads up about who he picked.”

“A heads up?” Ethan scoffs and rolls his eyes. Who on earth could Leland think of reaching out to that Ethan would need a warning about? “Who is he asking for? Mendoza from MK? Catherine Morgan from Stanford? The Boogeyman?”

“I don’t think I’ve reached Boogeyman levels of infamy. Well, at least not yet.”

The voice makes the hair on the back of Ethan’s neck stand up. It’s a voice he hasn’t heard in close to three years, one that he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes snap up, locking with the large brown ones staring back at him, and all of the breath leaves his lungs at once. The last time he looked into these eyes, they weren’t full of humor like they are now, but pure fire. His chest constricts, inhaling suddenly the most difficult task in the world.

The entire room goes silent, everyone watching as Ethan and the woman stay locked in their staring contest. Isabelle’s eyes dart back and forth, hoping someone can clue her into what’s going on, but Naveen, Harper and Tobias offer zero assistance.

Isabelle takes the quiet time to appraise the stranger. She’s petite, almost a foot shorter than Ethan even with her sky high Jimmy Choos on. The second thing that catches her attention is the mess of dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders, and the amused smirk on her face, like a cat that got the canary.

The woman breaks eye contact with Ethan to look past his shoulder. “Harper, Tobias, hello. Long time no see.”

When he regains the ability to speak, Ethan grits out, “Naomi, what on earth are you doing here?”

“I got an interesting call from Leland Bloom this morning, saying that the diagnostics team was in dire need of some assistance on a particularly difficult case. Within the hour, his private helicopter was picking me up.”

Ethan takes a sterling’s breath and silently counts to 3 before talking again. “I’m not working with you.”

“You don’t have a choice. Not unless you quit.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Naomi rolls her eyes. “Drama was never a good look on you, darling, I was always better suited for it.” She turns her attention to the young resident gawking at her, turning on her megawatt smile. “You’re new. I don’t know you.”

“Um, n-no you don't. I’m Dr. Isabelle Proctor.”

“Isabelle,” Naomi repeats slowly, letting it roll off of her tongue. “What a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Dr. Naomi Ramsey.”

The last name catches her attention. Her eyes flicker over to Ethan’s face, catching the way his jaw ticks as female Dr. Ramsey talks.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head as I talk, so I’ll clear things up for you right quick,” Naomi continues. “No, the last name thing isn’t a coincidence. I’m Ethan’s ex-wife." She sticks out a hand for Isabelle to shake. "Nice to meet you.”

~v~

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#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc

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justanotherwriter-fangirl · 5 years ago

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Confessions (C. R.)

Words: 2,389 words

Warnings: Not that I can think of

Request: Hey there! I noticed that you write for connor rhodes? I loved the latest story you posted, so i was wondering if you could write him confessing his feelings? Maybe the reader is another doctor or something, it's up to You, i know I'll love it regardless. Keep the good work💞 already loving your blog as it is.

A/N: Hi!!! I'm so sorry for taking so long to the anon who made this request :( but it's finally here!! I hope you like it and it's what you expected it 😅 As you can see I got a little bit carried away, hope you enjoy it!!!

Gif obtained from Google. All credits to its owner.

Thanks for reading

_______________________

Monday morning and the emergency room was already madness. A huge accident, a collapsed office building, was the cause of the rush in the ED having every doctor in the hospital working extra hard to attend the wounded.

You could hear Maggie and Mrs. Goodwin yelling orders outside Trauma 2 where you were examining a teen, probably an intern.

He was awake and responsive but you knew better so just to make sure he was really okay you ordered some X-rays and a CT Scan.

Leaving the room to treat someone else while the results came back, you quickly stepped out of the way of a gurney that almost ran over you, Connor and a bunch of nurses behind it heading to Trauma 1 to attend a woman not much older than you who didn't look good.

Behind them all there was a young man trying to catch up with them so you stepped on his way to stop him.

"Hi, sir. I'm Dr. (Y/L/N), are you okay? How can I help you?" you said as you raised your hands to calm him a little bit.

"How is she? Where are you taking her? Will she be okay?" he quickly asked, his full attention on the woman who was now disappearing behind some glass doors.

"Sir, I need you to look at me, please" you mentioned firmly, once his eyes settled on yours you added "Right now Dr. Rhodes is going to diagnose her to learn the severity of her injuries and treat her, but if you are not wounded you need to be on the waiting room, we have a lot of patients to treat and barely enough space considering the situation so please, wait outside and I promise you that as soon as I hear something about her I'll go out myself to keep you posted"

"You promise?"

"I do, I promise" you said escorting him to the waiting room "But let me tell you, your girlfriend is in really good hands, Dr. Rhodes is the best cardiothoracic surgeon we have on the hospital"

"Yeah, okay, thank you doctor" he finished barely listening to you and sitting on a chair, worried because needing a cardiothoracic surgeon couldn't be good, didn't it?

Once he was out of your way you passed to your next patient, a passerby who luckily only needed some stitches.

Your whole day went by in a blur, being pulled from one patient to another with barely time to breath in between.

Nevertheless, you had made a promise earlier so when you managed to get 5 free minutes you went straight to Maggie at the nurse station.

"Hey, Maggie. Have a minute?"

"Ummm... yeah, real quick. What do you need?"

"I just want to know about the status of a patient, Connor was the main doctor. Brunette woman, not much older than me, her face was bruised and she had a nasty cut on her leg, she was sent to Trauma 1"

"Oh, yeah she went almost immediately to surgery, she was in really bad shape, internal bleeding"

"Okay, thank you. Please let me know when they came out, her boyfriend is in the waiting room"

As you glanced at the waiting room, you could still see him on the same chair you left him, his leg bouncing up and down, probably scared that you wouldn't find him if he moved.

Getting closer to him you felt bad because her girl was really bad and he was so worried and you couldn't do anything about it.

"Sir?" You said when you were standing next to him.

"Dr. (Y/L/N)" he quickly stood up "You can call me Danny"

"Danny, I have news. I just talk with the charge nurse and she told me that..."

"Amy"

"Amy, yeah, she's on surgery, she was suffering of serious internal bleeding but she was immediately treated. Right now I don't have anything else for you but I'll let you know when she gets out so you can go see her."

“Yeah, thanks doctor”

A couple hours later you were making some coffee on the break room when you heard the door being open, Connor walking in.

"Hey, out of surgery already?" You said remembering Danny and his very worried state, while handing him a cup of coffee. It really looked like he needed it.

"Thanks (Y/N). Yeah, it was difficult but we made it, we manage to control all the bleeding, we had to remove her spleen though" he informed you taking a seat on the couch.

"So she's stable?"

"For now, she will be sedated for a while too but everything seems fine"

"It's so good to hear it Connor, I met her boyfriend. He's worried sick and I promised I'd let him know when she got out of surgery" you said heading towards the door.

"Wait..." he said quickly standing up and grabbing your hand to stop you, your heart starting to beat a little faster "I'll let him know, it's my job and you probably are tired, stay here and rest a bit"

Looking up to see him in the eyes, you realized how close you two were. You had always had a thing for Connor, him being the first person who welcomed you into the hospital when you first got here.

Since then he became a really good friend, problem was that you didn't want him just to be your friend. He was sweet and funny and handsome and so smart, it wasn't really a surprise when you figured you had feelings for him.

Unfortunately, you couldn't do anything about it, you didn't want to ruin your friendship. It was just too special.

“Sure?”

“Sure, you have nothing to worry about” he said slowly letting your hand go.

“Ok, thanks. His name is Danny, black shirt, jeans and a red jacket”

“Got it, now go back and enjoy your coffee, you deserve some rest”

In his way to the wait room he couldn’t stop thinking about how your hand felt in his, if he had to be really honest, every time you’d step into the room his eyes immediately would fell over you, you were like a magnet and he could barely focus on anything else.

Since the first time you took a step on the ED he felt attracted to you but with the pass of time he started to get to know you and his feelings eventually grew. It actually made him feel kinda helpless, having feelings for you but unable to let you know in case you wouldn’t feel the same, it hurt him a little bit more each day.

You were so sweet, always caring for the patients, even if they weren’t directly under your care, you were so full of life and happy most of the times, babies loved you and you were one of the best doctors he had ever met, so intelligent and beautiful yet somehow unaware of the effect you had in others.

He immediately spotted Danny, impossible to miss the red jacket he was wearing and stood right in front of him.

“Danny? You’re Amy’s boyfriend? Dr. (Y/L/N) send me, I’m Dr. Rhodes”

“Well, she’s technically not my girlfriend, not yet at least, soon I hope but yes, I’m here with her”

He raised an eyebrow, a little bit amused with his rambling

“Not yet? Dr. (Y/L/N) says otherwise”

“She never gave me the chance to correct her” he said sheepishly scratching the back of his neck “but as soon as you tell me Amy is okay I’m ready to tell her. I never wanted to scare her away or lose her friendship but I almost lost her today, for good, and I realized I’m not ready to let her go without her knowing how I really feel, without her knowing that I love her and I want to spend the rest of my days with her if she lets me. Even if she says no at least she'll know the truth and I'll feel so much better, lighter than carrying my secret for life. If she knows I might have a chance with her, she might say yes, but if she doesn't it's already impossible. Sometimes life’s too short, don’t you think. Dr. Rhodes?”

"I guess you're right Danny, I'm glad you're ready because things are looking good. We manage to stop her internal bleeding and she's now unconscious due to the anesthesia but you can go see her now."

"Really? Oh my God, doctor, thank you so much"

"Good luck" he said before telling him her room and walk away.

Throughout the rest of the week he couldn't take Danny's words out of his head, he knew he was right. If he wanted a chance to be with you, because he was sure he wanted just that, to call you his, he had to come clean, tell you how he felt and wait for the best before it was too late.

It was friday night already, his shift almost ending and he was trying to gather all his confidence to ask you out tonight. He promised himself he would do it before the night ended but it was really hard to find the right words and the right moment, you were always hurrying around from one patient to another, barely having a free couple minutes to talk. He didn't want to rush it, he wanted to tell you everything and the fact that he could see Danny everyday coming to the hospital with flowers wasn't helping at all, it was just a constantly reminder of how he was unable to let you know about his feelings.

Letting a sigh escape his lips he leaned against the nurse bay, he wasn't ready to give up, his mind already made up, but you weren't doing it easy.

Just as he was about to call it night, the clock marking already 10 pm, he saw entering the break room. This was his chance.

Sneaking in behind you he closed the door and locked it, he didn't want any interruptions.

"(Y/N), I need to talk to you for a minute" he firmly stated.

"Oh, hey Connor. Sure, tell me" you said grabbing a mug to pour some coffee on it, not really paying much attention to his nervous state.

"It's important so please let me finish first and then you can say whatever you want to say" he said grabbing your shoulder to make you turn around. standing directly in front of you for the first time you realized how on edge he was.

"Okay… yeah, of course. You know you can tell me anything, Connor. I'm here for you, no matter what"

"I hope you really mean that" he mumbled letting a nervous laugh out. "Okay so, I've been wanted to tell you this for a while and it might be a little shocking but recently someone made me realize that life's short and we need to take action in order to make things happen and I'm ready to tell you this because I don't want to live any longer without you knowing the truth. This could go either one of two ways and I hope this ends the good way, I really do but anyway I can't keep it a secret anymore.” he let out a sigh before grabbing your hands, his eyes bearing into your soul. “(Y/N), this might come as a surprise but I really like you, I’ve liked you for a long time and I’d like to go out with you, as more than a friend. Being completely honest with you, I’m quite sure I feel so much more than just that but I really don’t want to scare you off, it’s just that you are such a beautiful human being and you make me so happy, even if you are not with me the mere thought of you makes me smile. So, what do you say? Would you go out with me? On a date?”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, was he really asking you out?

“Why?” was the first thing that left your mouth

“Why? Why do I want to date you? (Y/N), did you listen all I just said?”

“Yes, I did but this seems to good to be truth, why would you want to date me? There are so many doctors and nurses and even patients who would love to go out with you, doctors and nurses and patients way more beautiful and successful and smarter than me”

“I don’t care about others, I only want to date you, call you mine. I wish you could see yourself the way I do because you are such an amazing person, you are beautiful and sweet and way more intelligent than anyone here, you are independent and strong and you don’t take no for an answer, you do all you can and more for your patients and you always try your best to let them leave with their families safe and sound. You are all I could ever ask for, the woman of my dreams and even then I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve you, so it’s all your decision now”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I would love to go out with you Connor, that’s the nicest someone have ever told me and I’m just so lucky that the guy I really like was the one who said it”

“Wait, what?”

“I like you too, Connor, like a lot and this just feels like out of one of my dreams”

“It’s not a dream” he whispered grabbing your chin with his right hand, his eyes silently asking for permission and only after you nodded slightly he leaned down to press his lips against yours, a sweet and slow kiss confirming it, this was not a dream, this was real and it was a hundred times better.

As you separated to look at each other you heard Will celebrating and shouting from the outside breaking your little bubble.

“Yes! Hey guys, they finally did it. Nat, I told you they wouldn’t last any longer, you owe me 20 bucks” he said walking away, making you both laugh, of course there was no privacy in this hospital.

_______________________

Masterlist

#writing #writer #connor rhodes #connor imagine #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagine #connor rhodes oneshot #one chicago #one chicago imagine #one-shot #one shot #chicago pd #chicago med #chicago fire #chicago med imagine #chicago med one shot #drabble #imagine

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kelseyshljourney · 4 years ago

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My HL (Hodgkin’s Lymphoma) Journey

“You have cancer”. I heard these words on a sunny July afternoon in 2020. July 23rd to be exact. I had a chest biopsy that was done that Tuesday, the 21st and anxiously waited for the results. I was not prepared to hear those words ever in my entire life nor is there anything that can prepare you for it. I was 6 months pregnant with my daughter, Madison, at the time so you can imagine the emotions I was feeling were heightened because of the pregnancy. Let me start at the beginning. Welcome to my cancer story.

My cancer journey started during my pregnancy with my aforementioned daughter. I found out I was pregnant with our first child in February 2020. I’ll make it clear that I had a wonderful pregnancy (cancer stuff put aside) and my daughter is happy, healthy, and living her best life. We were wonderfully blessed to be on this journey of pregnancy and enjoying every part of it. Although, I would not recommend being pregnant during a pandemic. Now being in 2021, there’s more that we know about COVID-19 but the beginning was rough. During the first trimester of pregnancy, my midwife brought up information about genetic testing that is available to pregnant moms for their babies that can be done through a simple blood test. It’s a carrier screening test that’s optional but does check to see if I am a carrier for 3 genetic abnormalities (Down Syndrome, Trisomy 18, and Trisomy 13). I almost didn’t do this blood test because whether or not I was a carrier for the 3 different abnormalities, it wouldn’t change the outcome of the pregnancy. If I ended up being a carrier, my husband, Rob, would also have to be carrier in order for it to be most likely passed down to our baby. I decided to do it because it was covered by my insurance and it was a quick visit to my clinic to get my blood drawn. No big deal.

I got the test done in April and then didn’t hear anything right away. I didn’t think much of it but I realized that I never got my results back on the test so I called my clinic to get my future appointments set up and then spoke directly with my midwife. She asked me if I heard anything from the lab about my results and I told her that I hadn’t. She ended up calling them and then called me right back. She said that my results came back as “inconclusive” as the lab could not determine if I was a carrier for any genetic abnormality because a lot of my DNA strands are incomplete with parts missing. My midwife said that out of her 30+ years of doing this job, she has never heard of this result before. Great. I was concerned about what this meant for the baby and concerned since my midwife didn’t know how to handle this. My care was transferred over to a Maternal & Fetal Medicine (M&FM) doctor who I saw for the rest of my pregnancy as I was now considered to be high risk. During this same week (the week of May 18th), I had a visit over the phone with a genetic counselor who told me that the result of the genetic test could be the cause of something as simple as being anemic (not getting enough iron) or something more serious like a tumor (whether benign or malignant). I was told that the least likely of it to be would be a tumor (I can laugh about this now but the irony). I also had a breast ultrasound at the hospital to make sure there were no lumps that could be causing this (there weren’t – I was clear).

At this point, I was feeling stressed but overall still feeling good and excited about my pregnancy despite this hiccup (or what I thought was just a hiccup). I had a few visits with the M&FM doctor and had more ultrasounds than a “normal” pregnancy so that they can check to make sure that Baby E was growing as she should and didn’t show any outward signs of a genetic disability. I had a lot of blood work done but it all came back clear and showing no signs of anything going wrong in my body. For a while, I felt like a test subject and with every test that was ordered and prick in my arm I was getting annoyed that I wasn’t getting to enjoy a “normal” pregnancy with all the visits that I had. I say “normal” because every pregnancy is different for every woman. When my doctor told me that the last thing she wanted to order for me was chest CT and an MRI to confirm there was not a tumor in my body, she promised she would let me enjoy my pregnancy and not order any more tests. I almost almost declined the MRI and CT because I felt like I didn’t want to go through that and be exposed to possible radiation and on top of that, I felt fine. God was really watching out for me and leading me in the direction to get the diagnostic tests done.

On July 8th, I had the MRI and CT done. I was with Rob when I got the call from my doctor that afternoon to go over the results. The MRI was unclear because of the baby moving but from what they could see, there was nothing that came up. However, the CT scan showed a mass in my chest that was the size of a distorted hockey puck; measuring at 7 ½ cm by 7cm by 2 cm and was located between my heart and my lung. I was watching Rob tear up and all I could say to him as soon as I hung up with my doctor was. “I’m going to be okay” over and over again. I think I was in complete shock over hearing that there is a tumor in my chest that could be cancer. We had my family over that night and I broke down several times throughout the night. I remember saying that I want to watch my child grow up (since we didn’t know the sex of the baby at the time) and I was scared that I wouldn’t have that chance. I went to bed that night thinking that I was going to die during the night because of the tumor. To be very clear, I wasn’t having suicidal thoughts or anything but when I was told that I have a tumor in my chest, the first thought that went through my mind was that I wouldn’t live to see the next day. This sounds dramatic as I’m writing this but it's the truth. In reality, I probably have had this tumor for a year, two years, or even longer. No one truly knows.

Between finding out about the tumor and getting the chest biopsy done was about 2 weeks. I can tell you that it was the slowest 2 weeks of my life. During this time, Rob and I were busy packing and getting ready to move into our house. So on top of being in the middle of a pandemic, being pregnant, having a tumor in my chest (without knowing if it was cancer), we were moving too. These two weeks were filled with prayers and spending time with friends and family. I had many breakdowns but Rob helped by feeding me all my favorite foods (I was pregnant after all). We moved into our house on July 16th. It was a wonderful day and we are thankful for the friends and family that helped us move into our new space. It was an exhausting time but so worth it. As mentioned at the beginning of this, I had my chest biopsy on Tuesday, July 21st. They couldn’t put me under because I was pregnant but my midwife prescribed me something that would be safe to take while pregnant but will help calm me during the procedure. It was a surreal feeling laying on the procedure table seeing a needle sticking out my chest and moving with every breath I took. Without that medication, I would have probably freaked out since I knew that the needle was close to my heart and lung.

Me in post-op.

2 days later is when I got the call from my doctor telling me the life changing news: I have cancer. God works as wonderfully as he does because that day my mom and grandma happened to come over for lunch, a rare occurrence during the work week so they were there when I got the call. I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma (HL), which happens to be a very treatable cancer. My doctor told me that she has already been in contact with the oncology team at the hospital to have someone get a hold of me to get an appointment set-up right away. I called all of our family who came over to process the news with me. There were many tears shed between all of us and I couldn’t eat or drink anything because I was so stressed and worried about what this means for my future and Madison’s future. That night, I got a call from Dr. Anderson who became my oncologist during this journey. We met with him the following day at the hospital to go over my CT and MRI scan images and to go over treatment options. He discussed that the general treatment plan for HL was chemotherapy and possible radiation. He also discussed the staging (HL is staged from stage I to stage IV) but because I was pregnant, they were limited in what tests they could order to determine a true stage until after I give birth. For example, they would normally perform a PET scan to confirm where the cancer is in my body but weren’t able to because it’s not safe for the baby. I was originally stage I but borderline stage II because of the size of my cancer and they knew that because of the chest CT. One thing he suggested was to get a bone marrow biopsy done to confirm that the cancer hasn’t spread to my bone marrow (which is a common place for HL to be).

I can tell you now that doing the bone marrow biopsy rivals the pain of childbirth. I was 6 months pregnant when I had the bone marrow biopsy done and it is a very painful procedure. I had the biopsy done on August 5th and what they do is take two samples from my pelvic bone, a liquid sample and a solid sample. The thing is, they could only numb the area where the needle was inserted into my body but there was no way to numb my actual pelvic bone so that is where I felt the pain and it was one of the worst things I’ve ever experienced. I’ll be honest, I cried during it but I luckily had a wonderful nurse who held my hand and talked me through the pain the entire time. Fortunately, the results came back confirming that there was no cancer to be found in my bone marrow. I was still considered to be stage I at this point in my cancer journey but that changed once I gave birth. I’ll get into that a little later.

This was the day after. I was very sore. Peep at the zubaz.

Now that the bone marrow biopsy was done, we met again with Dr. Anderson to go over options. I had the choice of starting chemotherapy while still pregnant (it’s generally safe since I was in my third trimester) or wait until I give birth to start. It was a very heavy decision to make. On one hand if I were to start chemotherapy while still pregnant, there are possible negative side effects for the baby: low birth weight, preterm labor (which ended up happening anyway), mental issues, and fertility issues. On the other hand, if I wait to receive chemotherapy until after the birth, am I putting my health at risk and possibly getting worse with the cancer? Rob and I went back and forth, talked to our families about it, and prayed – a lot.

After a lot of thinking, I decided to wait until after the birth to start chemotherapy. I was feeling good overall and not feeling the “normal” symptoms of HL. I was considered asymptomatic (not showing any symptoms) but here are the common symptoms for HL:

· Persistent fatigue

· Night sweats

· Fever

· Unexplained weight loss

· Severe itching

· Painless swelling of lymph nodes in neck, armpits, or groin

I came to the conclusion that whatever decision I made was the right decision. I knew that I wanted to ride out the rest of my pregnancy without causing any possible disruption to my daughter and her growth. In lieu of receiving treatment during pregnancy, I had to go in for weekly blood work to make sure that everything was still coming back normal (for a pregnancy). My oncologist did order a blood test that checked inflammation in my body. This is called an erythrocyte sedimentation rate (ESR) and the number was already elevated because of pregnancy but also if it was higher than what my oncologist wanted, it would help determine that there might be something bad happening in my body. The number slowly increased as the weeks went on and as I got more and more pregnant. Fortunately, the number was still low enough to satisfy my oncology team. I also had an echocardiogram on July 27th and lung function test on August 3rd to get a baseline on where my heart and lungs were. Of course being pregnant means that my lung function test came back with skewed results than what would be normal. They get these baselines since the drugs that I will be receiving during chemotherapy can affect the heart and lungs negatively so they want to keep a close eye on it. They both came back fine, my heart is strong and my lungs were functioning as well as they could with the rest of my organs pressed into them (yay pregnancy).

I had my last ultrasound for my daughter when I was 33 weeks pregnant and the last time that I would see the M&FM doctor as I would be seen every week until I gave birth with my midwife. Little did I know, I would be walking into the hospital on Sunday evening, September 13th because my water broke (I’ll never forget Rob’s face when they confirmed that my water broke – it was priceless!) A little worried but ready for anything, I was ready to give birth despite her being 6 weeks early. Since I was only 1cm dilated, the plan was to induce me the next morning and start the process of giving birth. Apparently my daughter Madison had a different plan because I spent the night dealing with veeerrry painful contractions before I got the epidural. Seriously, a game changer. When the doctors came in to check how I was doing with the epidural, they were surprised to find that I was 9cm dilated and told me that I was about to start pushing. Since I was without sleep and very tired and given the epidural, I was ready to do the damn thing. After an hour of pushing, Madison was born on September 14th at 6:51am! She spent 13 days in the NICU but was never needing any respiratory support at only being at 34 weeks but was healthy and happy.

Once Madison was home from the hospital, it was time for me to get started with my official cancer journey. On September 29th, I had a PET scan done and this helped to confirm everything we knew but also showed something unexpected; there was another lymph node that lit up in my chest too. This put me officially in stage II HL. The treatment plan remained the same though; I were to receive a chemotherapy combination of drugs abbreviated ABVD (every letter represents a different chemo drug). This part is hard to write because even discussing these drugs makes me nauseous and queasy (something that I don’t think will go away anytime soon). The “A” in the “chemo cocktail” side effect is hair loss. Something that I have prepared myself for, or as much as I could, but nothing can prepare you for when it actually starts happening. I knew that the hair loss was temporary and I would rather be bald for a short time than have cancer for the rest of my life. We got together with some friends at the end of September interspersed so they can meet Madison and also to spend some time together before Rob and I made the decision to lock down our house from visitors. We also made the decision to limit our circle of people that we will see in the coming months. We did this because we knew that my health was going to decline because of chemo and also with the threat of COVID, my immune system couldn’t take the risk of getting sick. It was a very difficult decision since we thrive on social situations and we love hanging out with our friends and family but it was vital that we don’t see many people. This really affected my mental health as I rely on our friends to get me through hard times and this was hands down one of the hardest times that I will probably go through.

Over the course of the next 6 months, I will experience the ups and downs (a lot more downs than ups) of receiving chemotherapy and the effect that this has on my body. I would never wish chemotherapy and the pain associated with it on anybody. I know that this was extremely tough on my family and friends to see me in such a state. Chemotherapy and the days after it are a nightmare that you can’t wake up from. It was my reality waking up every day and knowing that I still have cancer and have the possibility of getting really sick from it or something worse (don’t worry, I never got into a dark head space but I also needed to make sure I was realistic in all the possibilities). My only other experience with cancer is not a positive one. My sister in law, Beth, passed away from stage IV malignant melanoma on March 26th, 2017. From the time she was diagnosed to the time she passed away, it was about 6 months so you can imagine what was going through my mind when I was diagnosed with this horrible disease.

On Monday October 5th, I underwent outpatient surgery to get an implantable port that was put in my chest. This port is used for chemotherapy and is an alternative to having the nurses inserting a needle in my vein each chemo session because over time, the chemotherapy drugs can negatively affect strong veins. The port uses a special needle during chemotherapy to inject the drugs and connected to the port is a tube (I’m sure there’s a medical term but I’m not medically trained) that ran up to a main vein near my neck that was connected directly to my heart so that the drugs were dispersed quickly through my body. It was never painful during the time that I had it and I looked forward to the day when I would be able to get my port out because that means that I was cancer free and no longer receiving chemotherapy.

Also in post-op. Notice the 2 different spots where they cut open. The bottom cut is where the port rested.

On Thursday, October 8th, I had my first chemotherapy session. Luckily the hospital allowed one visitor to come with patients so Rob was fortunately able to come with me. My mom was staying with us for a few weeks to help with the transition of chemotherapy and making sure that someone was able to take care of Madison in case that I was not able to (thinking of this breaks my heart because I never wanted to be a position where I couldn’t take care of my own child). Rob and I showed up to the hospital early in the morning at about 8am and didn’t leave until a little after 3pm. It’s safe to say that it was a very long, draining, exhausting day. Not all chemotherapy sessions were this long but because it was my first one, there’s more that happens than normal. Walking into the oncology suite for the first time to get chemotherapy was nerve-wracking because I didn’t know what to expect. I also felt a lot of eyes on me from the other people also waiting to get chemotherapy and I knew they were looking at me because of my age. Most of them were a lot older. I did come across someone one time who was just a few years older than me (they usually ask date of birth when checking in so that’s how I knew) and I could tell it was his first time because he looked as nervous as I did during my first visit.

At the hospital, they have both private rooms and a public space too. We were lucky enough to get a private room and it made things a little easier and helped to ease my anxiety knowing that if anything negative were to happen, I wouldn’t be in a public area where other people could witness it. The first nurse that I had was Jen and she was incredible. I’ll say that every nurse that I had were awesome. Anyways, they stared out each visit by taking blood work through my port. They want to make sure that I met the threshold with my blood work to be able to receive chemo because if I am below that threshold for what they are comfortable with, I would be deemed too sick to receive chemo and it would have to be delayed. Luckily I never got to that point but I came close a couple of times. They mainly check my hemoglobin and my white blood cell count but there’s a few other numbers they check as well. I then had a visit with my oncologist who walked me through what each drug’s side effects are. It also was an opportunity to ask questions. The main side effects entailed nausea, lack of appetite, headaches, fatigue, numbness in hands and feet, and night sweats. To help curb the nausea, there were “pre-meds” that were given to me before I received the chemo drugs that mainly were anti-nausea drugs.

Once my oncologist left, it was just me, Rob, and Jen. Jen started to give me one of the pre-med drugs called Emend. It’s an anti-nausea drug that was given to me through my port. Jen just started the drip from the IV bag when I started to feel my chest tighten and my face got flushed. I asked Jen if it was normal to feel this way and she stopped what she was doing immediately and told me that it’s not normal. She stopped the drip right away, pressed a button in the room, and then all of a sudden, it went from the 3 of us to about 7-8 people in the tiny room. There were nurses, helpers, and a pharmacist that came in the room. Someone was taking my vitals (heart rate, oxygen level, and temperature), while the nurses there checking my legs for swelling. As soon as she stopped the drip, the tightening in my chest went away and I was able to breathe normally. My vitals came back fine but my heart rate was through the roof because having that many people in the room spiked my anxiety and then there were people that were sticking their heads out of their rooms to see what was going on. It was slightly embarrassing because I felt fine and I don’t like being fussed over. The pharmacist explained that they will discontinue giving me the Emend but he also explained that this is not a common thing that occurs for most people so I most likely had an allergic reaction to the drug. Once everyone left my room, Jen gave me a huge dose of Benadryl to counteract the Emend so I ended up falling asleep for most of the session and I was in and out of consciousness so I don’t really remember much from my first session. I woke up periodically when Jen came in the room with the chemo drugs. I think Rob left the room for a little bit to get some food from the café and to stretch his legs.

The drug that always came first was the Adriamycin (A) which had to be administered by the nurse sitting next to me and slowly injecting it in a timely manner. The rest of the drugs, Bleomycin (B), Vinblastine (V), and Doxorubicin (D), were given via IV bags that were slowly administered over a period of time. When 3pm came around, I finished up my last drug and was able to leave. I went home and slept for a long time.

I received chemo every other week. I was considered to be toxic for the first 72 hours after, which means my bodily fluids should not be handled by anyone but me. Rob and I deemed our downstairs bathroom as the “chemo bathroom” so that’s what I used every time. After going to the bathroom, I have to put the toilet seat down and flush twice. If I vomited, I would need to be the one to clean it up but if someone were to help, they would need to wear a mask and gloves. Fortunately I never vomited during my cancer journey (mind over matter). For the rest of my chemo sessions, they were mostly uneventful. There was a point where the hospital changed their visitor policy and I was not able to bring Rob to the appointments so I had to go alone. This really took an effect on my mental health and negatively affected my health knowing that I would have to endure the sessions alone. I felt like my health declined during that time period so for a few months, I was going alone and sitting in the public area. I usually would bring our Nintendo Switch, read, or I would sit and watch Tik Toks. I would have a song in my head on how I was feeling that day so I would usually send the song to my family to let them know where my head space was at that day.

For those that are wondering, a chemo cycle is about a month long (28 days). In each cycle, there are 2 sessions. The plan was to do 2 cycles and then have a repeat PET scan done (which was the end of November) and then most likely 4 more cycles of chemo after that and then another PET scan (which was in March). As I mentioned earlier, one of the side effects from one of the chemo drugs is hair loss. My oncologist prepared me that I most likely will lose my hair. Easier said than done. I didn’t see any hair loss during my first cycle but I knew that it was only a matter of time. When I started my second cycle of chemo, that’s when it happened. It was the week of Halloween and I believe it was a Tuesday when I took a shower during the day. As mentioned before, my mom was living with us to take care of Madison and I am thankful that she was there. This is a vulnerable topic to discuss for me because even though I know the hair loss is temporary, our hair makes us part of who we are as people and you can’t convince me otherwise. When I started washing my hair, I pulled out a huge portion. I kept pulling out more and more hair and I broke down crying in the shower. I eventually made it out and showed my mom what happened. This was one of the toughest days of my journey. I ended up sleeping for about 6 hours after that because I was emotionally and mentally drained. That night, Rob bought me my favorite food from a hibachi place close by our house and that helped my spirits a little bit.

The rest of the week I avoided washing my hair when I took my showers because I wasn’t ready to go through that trauma again because despite pulling out a few handfuls, I still had plenty of hair on my head. I said at the beginning of the journey that I wasn’t planning on shaving my head and that I would just keep what hair I could but I changed my decision on that. On Halloween was when I became bald. I was prepared this time when I went to take a shower as I brought in a few shower beers and had loud music playing. I walked out of the bathroom and showed Rob, who was watching Madison, the hair that I pulled out and with tears in my eyes, I asked him if he could shave my head. I can tell you that afterwards, I didn’t feel sad, I felt liberated more than anything because this was my decision and not something that the cancer could take away from me. I was in pretty good spirits and spent the night playing board games with my brother and sister in law. We dressed Madison up as a Chipotle burrito even though she didn’t like that (she wasn’t in it long). I now am in possession of a few wigs and some hair wraps and hats. My family has never seen me without a hat or a wig on because being bald is the only physical trait that links me to cancer. I want them to always remember me with hair because this is already tough on them that I don’t want them to have that memory of me.

One thing that I didn’t mention earlier but with the Bleomycin (B), this was a drug that caused my loss of appetite, fatigue, and overall nausea after each chemo session. This drug is known to cause negative effects on the lungs so I was carefully monitored by getting lung function tests done. The last one that I did was at the end of my first cycle where they saw a slight drop in my lung function so they stopped giving me this drug so I was only getting AVD for the rest of my cycles. My oncologist explained that it’s better to have some of this drug in my regimen than not getting it at all and it’s about 50% of the time that it’s dropped at some point during the chemo journey. I overall felt better and got my appetite and some of my energy back. I started working out again and felt like I could get through the day without feeling like I needed a nap. I probably would have napped more if I didn’t have Madison at home but I wanted to give as much attention to her as possible. I’ve said this many times to my family, friends, and coworkers, but Madison will always be my dose of serotonin when I’m having a bad day.

After going through 2 successful chemo sessions, it was time to get another PET scan done. This happened on November 30th. I got the results of the scan 2 days later with Dr. Anderson. He explained that the chemo drugs are doing their job and he saw a huge improvement in the cancer that was found in my body. The mass in my chest also decreased in size. He showed me the scans and I was blown away with the difference. Seeing the cancer light up in my body gave me goosebumps and brought tears to my eyes but also seeing the improvement gave me so much hope. The game plan after this visit was to go through 4 more cycles (about 4 months) of chemo and then do another PET scan.

On December 30th, I was starting my 4th cycle and I wasn’t scheduled for a visit with my oncology team that day. I had my routine bloodwork done and then I was sitting in a private room waiting for my pre-meds when my nurse for the day came in. She told me that it was taking longer to get the blood work back because my white blood cell count was so low that they had to individually count my white blood cells. Individually. Count. Meaning, I was almost at the threshold of being too sick to get chemo and inevitably delaying treatment. The nurse warned to be extra careful and to avoid leaving the house since I could not risk getting sick now. I only left the house to go to chemo at this point so I wasn’t seeing many people anyways. I remember calling my mom and telling her the news and breaking down crying because I was scared. It’s hard for me to admit that and I felt scared during this process more than I let on to my family and friends because I hate feeling vulnerable. I was able to still get treatment that day but I also didn’t feel very good during that visit. This happened one other time, which happened to be my last chemo session that I had.

One scary event that happened was when I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I was in the middle of my workday, Madison was being watched by my sister in law at my house, and I was in the kitchen walking back to my computer when I started having a hard time breathing. I sat down and tried to take a few calming breaths. I calmly told Briana that I wasn’t able to take a proper breath and I then told her that I’m going to call my oncology team to see what they would recommend. I spoke with a nurse who told me to come in right away. She said she spoke with my oncology team who recommended getting some tests done to see what is going on. I went to the hospital and had an EKG done and also a chest CT. My oncologist said the EKG came back fine and so did the CT. They thought possibly that I could have a blood clot but that wasn’t the case. They recommended taking it easy and to take some ibuprofen when I got home, which I did and I started to feel better and was able to take a deep breath again. This happened on February 2nd. I didn’t have that feeling ever again.

On March 10th, 2021 is when I completed my 6th and final chemo cycle. Despite having a low white blood cell count, I was in pretty high spirits hoping that this was going to be my last chemo session ever. I had the last PET scan on March 22nd and went over the results with Dr. Anderson on March 24th. I was a bundle of nerves and holding Rob’s hand when my oncologist walked into the room and what he started saying was ominous. He started out by saying that the scans look good but aren’t perfect (okay?) but they didn’t want to leave anything to chance (alright, what does that mean?) He proceeded to show us the recent scans and then did a side by side comparison and was showing us the improvement. He then started going over the follow-up protocol for when I would get future scans, visits, etc. I had to stop him and ask outright, “is there cancer left in my body??” and he laughed and said that he probably should have started out the visit by saying that I am cancer free. CANCER. FREE. Even typing this, I’m tearing up. I started crying tears of joy, relief, etc. He said that I am officially in remission and in 5 years I will be considered completely cured of cancer. I’ll be getting CT scans done once every year and visits and blood work done every 6 months.

Dr. Anderson explained that the mass in my chest decreased in size to the point that he’s comfortable with not recommending radiation. He said that I have the option of speaking with the radiation oncologists but that he doesn’t feel the need for me to get radiation done. He knew that I was very against getting radiation if I could avoid it but of course I would listen to medical advice if it was strongly recommended. This was a huge sigh of relief since radiation would take a toll on my body. We left the hospital, I cried some more, and we went immediately to our families the life changing news. We spent the rest of the day at my parents house where Madison was and celebrated by popping a bottle of champagne and ordering sushi. I took the rest of the week off from work to relax and enjoy being cancer free. I got my port out on April 1st. It was such a wonderful and freeing feeling. I was looking forward to this day since I got it put in.

Again, post-op. I think my face says it all.

I can’t describe the feeling that when I check my next visit, it’s not until June. From May 2020 to March 2021, I’ve had a total of 47 visits that were cancer related (not even counting OBGYN visits). To provide a comparison before 2020, I would maybe have 4 visits during the year. We slowly have been spending more time with friends that we haven’t seen since before starting chemo and it’s been an amazing feeling. I’m looking forward to my hair growing back (and my eyebrows which slowly disappeared). If anyone asks me what my future plans are, I tell them that I plan to travel this year and focus on being a cancer free 27 year old. I’m also hoping that by sharing my story, it helps to spread awareness to the fact that it’s vital to get yearly check-ups by your doctor because you never know what might be happening without your knowledge. Also, if something doesn’t feel right, speak up.

I want to send a huge thank you to our friends, family, coworkers, our church, friends of friends, and any others that have prayed for us, brought meals and gifts over, or thought of us. I also want to thank Dr. Anderson and his team at Regions and for all the nurses that took care of me during my chemo sessions. I’m overwhelmed with the amount of love and support that I have felt during this entire journey and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I’m emotional writing this. Thank you.

Follow me on instagram! kel_sey5

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pitiless-achilles-wept · 5 years ago

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Always Waiting: The Cost of Never Being Done

Hi all,

I kept waiting for a time when I felt like I had time and energy to write and...surprise! It turns out that's not just around the corner when you have a chronic illness and are still working full time (not to mention trying to keep up a social life and maintain all your relationships). But I figure some information is better than none at all, so I'll get through what I can.

You all remember (I think) that I went to Dana-Farber after my December CT scans showed significant growth of my primary tumor despite the metastatic sites holding steady. I came out of that meeting with two recommendations for clinical trials. One--my top pick--was being run out of Massachusetts General Hospital and Dana-Farber and involved an antibody-drug conjugate (IMMU-132) that has been shown to be super effective for triple-negative breast cancer but which got held up at the FDA approval stage. Doctors are pretty frustrated that the approval is still pending and that the only way to use it is on a trial, but there's hope that it might get approved in the next 6-9 months. The other is being run out of UPenn by the same doctor whose study I was on before and who I really like. It looks at the effect of chemo + an immunological agent vs. just chemo.

There were several reasons to prefer the MGH study (even though it would have necessitated traveling to Boston during the coldest months of the year), among them that I wouldn't have to endure chemotherapy as part of the trial. And it looked for a while as though I was going to be able to join it. It wasn't actively enrolling but there was a spot. I waited, in the days right before Christmas, to hear. And my doctors all worked hard, calling the PI and discussing the option of enrollment at either location. But it didn't work out. Another patient made exactly the same call I would have made--and I cannot fault them for that--and I am several places down on the waiting list. Spots open up when people leave the study, so presumably when their disease worsens or a better treatment option opens up. It only happens every couple of months. Doing the math, it seemed more likely that the drug would get approved by the FDA than that I would get to enroll.

I was pretty angry. And it was hard because there was no single person to be angry at. Not at my doctors, all of whom knew my preference, did all they could, and gave sincere apologies when it didn't work out. And not at the other patient who took the chance that I so hoped I'd be given. If anything, I was angry at the FDA for not approving the drug faster, or at whoever was funding the study for not allowing there to be more than 68 patients on it at any given time. The fact that groundbreaking, life-saving medical research is also a business constantly makes me angry. Sometimes it works in my favor (IMMU-132 will likely get fast-tracked on its second go through the FDA because someone will make money) and sometimes it doesn't (why fund more spots than you need on a clinical trial just because people want to be in it?).

So then there was more waiting. So much of having Stage 4 cancer is a waiting game. Waiting for promising new research directions. Waiting for that research to get funded. Waiting for those studies to enroll and complete. Waiting for FDA approval. Waiting for insurance approval. And, the biggest one by far, waiting to see if it works.

I was home for the holidays, not meant to see an oncologist until mid-January. A third option was proposed, which was staying on the study I had been doing with the PARP inhibitors but first doing a short course of radiation on the breast tumor. When I got home at New Year's I booked in to a radiology consultation, even though I felt a suspicion that it wasn't the best option. (Several oncologists told me that if the PARP inhibitors had stopped working on the initial tumor it was only a matter of time--and likely not much of it--before they stopped working on the metastatic sites too.) After spending nearly an hour with yet another very helpful doctor who had studied the whole history of my case (and a little bit of my research, once I told him what to Google) I saw that I was right. A tumor this size, he said, would only benefit from a pretty lengthy radiation course and we only had a grace period of 2 weeks for me to get back on the PARP study. He reminded me that it would be an option later and wishes me luck.

I'd like to pause here to do something I haven't done before and ask you all a favor. I understand exactly why this happens but please, to help me out, don't ask anymore about why I am not (yet) having surgery or radiation on the tumor. Yes, the primary tumor is the biggest and nastiest and pains me every day. You can be sure I'm also asking that question of my doctors, not only when there's a treatment change but when I tell them that it's hurting me. I know that it seems simplest to just cut it out (even if this means altering my body in a way that I am not eager to do) or try to shrink it. And I know that's why people ask. All the time. ALL the time. Unfortunately, it leaves me feeling defensive--do they not know that I have thought of this option every single day as I carry around the painful, swollen weight of a 6cm tumor?--and like I have to justify my decision. I imagine one or both those things will happen immediately. I have many (medical) reasons for not doing them yet. When I decide to do them, you will know and I will tell you more about why. But it would make me feel a lot better if I knew people weren't going to keep asking. Thank you.

Ok, back to what happened one I decided that radiation was out. Essentially, last week I officially consented to the study that's at Penn and that involves chemo. My first session will be on January 30th. I'll be going every 3 weeks. The agent I'm receiving is one of the oldest (carboplatin) and will be given in a higher dosage than when I went every week. This means it's likely to make me sicker. (The doctors did say that I'd feel worst on days 2-5 and better as the cycle wore on.) No one told me that people tolerate this one especially well and, having been so relatively lucky with side effects before, my worst-case-scenario brain assumes my luck will now be bad and that I will really struggle, lose all my hair, not be able to work, etc. Unhelpfully, although they can speak in averages, no one can predict how anyone will react to chemo. So just...wait. As usual.

To join the study, of course, there are a great many hoops all of which involve trips to Philly. I had a biopsy yesterday (Wednesday) and am spending tomorrow (Friday) getting CT and bone scans. There was an ongoing fight with my insurance company today when I got a phone call first thing in the morning telling me that they had canceled tomorrow's CTs because I didn't have authorization. Without authorization, no CT. Without a CT, no joining the study. Without joining the study, no starting chemo on time (lots of rearranging of my work and ride/support schedule). Lucky for me, my doctor's office was the one to do the calling and arguing. But it's frankly absurd to deny authorization for a CT scan to a documented Stage 4 cancer patient. I cannot even imagine what further information they would need for that one. And if I hadn't been joining a trial there would have been no rush and, likely, I would have been the one calling. The amount of admin involved in being chronically ill is frankly staggering. The end result, luckily, is that I am going in tomorrow.

And that's why I must get to bed. I know I make it sound like swinging by the hospital for a biopsy is no big deal - it's an outpatient procedure with only local anesthetic! I ate Shake Shack afterwards and went to work today! But, in fact, it's stressful to the body as well as the spirit to be on an operating table, numbed up with local anesthetic, and pierced in the lymph node or breast by an ultrasound-guided needle ten times (because you are doing so many studies and they all need research samples). The scans tomorrow will be easier - all I have to do is not eat beforehand, drink barium, lie in an x-ray contraption while having contrast dye injected through the port that's plumbed into my artery...then take a break before being injected with a radioactive tracer that will infuse my bones for a couple hours until I lie perfectly still and have them imaged. Easy, right?

I like to say that this stuff is no big deal--that it's just a lot of waiting in different places. And that's true, to an extent. The CTs don't hurt and they aren't physically demanding (although I'm not great at drinking that much barium milkshake that fast). The bone scan is kind of cool and I plan to wear my "Biohazard" t-shirt. But my normalization of the massive apparatus surrounding being ill and my incorporation of it into my everyday life does, I think, minimize the physical as well as emotional toll I pay each time I have a test or treatment. Not only are those reminders of the insidious disease that has taken so much of my life from my control--I'm not even thinking about that consciously most of the time--it's just all so relentless. There's always another call to make, appointment to keep, symptom to track, bill to pay, person to text or call. I am never, ever done.

On that last item, I do often feel burdened with guilt. I want support, but don't feel that I can always pay it back in the form of updates or thanks to those who so generously give it. But I do hope you all know that I'm here, appreciating each and every piece of it that I get. Social media may not be great for some things but it is wonderful for the small kindnesses that can buoy me up on a tougher day. This has been one, so I'm off to bed. But I send you gratitude and love.

Bex

#health update #clinical trials #my life as a cancer patient #mbc #stage 4 #chronic illness #bex writes

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discjockeyetc · 4 years ago

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How I Got Here: One Year (and 85 pounds) Later

On October 14th, 2019, I began a journey that would change my life (and my health) for the better. I’ve told the whole story to a few people here and there, but never really put the whole thing down in to words. I figured the one year anniversary would be a good time to do that.

On October 14th, 2019, I weighed 250 pounds. As I’m writing this today, on October 14th, 2020, I weigh right at 165 pounds.

With that, here’s what happened, and how I got here... one year (and 85lbs) later.

It all began on Friday, October 11th at about 12:00pm. I was working from home, Jill was at work, and Turner was at school. Sydney had been dealing with a nasty body rash, so we had kept her home from school. We were dog sitting Jill’s parents’ dog Goldie, so Sydney and I were standing on the patio watching Goldie and Freddie play in the backyard. As we were standing there, I suddenly felt this rush of numbness take over the entire left side of my body. From the top of my head to my toes. Total numbness. My left hand felt like I had been sitting on it for a half hour. My mouth had that sensation (or lack of sensation, as it were) of just receiving a shot of novocaine from the dentist.

This was, as you can imagine, pretty strange, so I quickly gathered the dogs and Sydney and went back inside. I sat back down at my desk while the episode was happening. After about 60 seconds, it stopped. Just went away. I didn’t pass out or get dizzy or anything. I didn’t get droopy-faced or drop anything I was holding. Just numbness (with a little tingling).

It would happen a couple more times that afternoon and each time would last about the same amount of time; about 60 to 90 seconds or so. I had a wedding to do that Saturday (which I was NOT going to miss) and had multiple episodes of this random numbness throughout that day and night.

That Sunday, we made our annual pilgrimage to Burt’s Pumpkin Farm and Hillcrest Orchards, and it would pop up a couple times that day. All in all, from Friday around lunch time to Sunday night, I had probably 20 of these little episodes.

[Quick important side story: I made two BIG mistakes here, and I’m not afraid to admit them. Mistake number one: I didn’t want to make a big deal out of this, so I did the stereotypical “male” thing and swept it under the rug. I had a wedding to do, and we had our pumpkins and apples trip... and I didn’t want to miss ANY of that... and I absolutely would have. Mistake number two: I didn’t really tell Jill what was going on, and that’s one of my biggest regrets in ALL of this. I needed to tell her, but I didn’t really mention it until Sunday night. This is a mistake I will NEVER make again... and I only share this as a testimony for all married couples on what NOT to do in serious situations like this. We had just celebrated our 17th wedding anniversary... and even though we’ve been married a good long time, I still got this wrong... but never again. Okay... back to the main story]

I didn’t have a primary care doctor at the time, so I figured I’d go to the urgent care near my house first thing Monday morning. Now, I realized that an urgent care can’t “fix” this, but I had to start somewhere, right? After I described what I experiencing, the PA did all of normal cognitive tests (”squeeze my fingers”, “What year is it?”, “push against my arms”, and so on). The PA went to talk to the main doctor at the primary care, and while she was gone, I had another episode. I popped my head out of the exam room to let them know. No sooner than I did that, the PA was returning from her conversation with the doctor... and they were ready to point me in the direction I was seeking. That direction was the emergency room.

Jill and I were both working from home that day, so I reached out to her and let her know that I needed to go to the ER. The urgent care wouldn’t let me leave on my own, so I either had to take an ambulance, or have someone come pick me up. Jill ran right up to the urgent care, and off we went to the hospital.

I showed up at the emergency room VERY nervous and unsure about what would happen, but I explained what was going on, and they checked me in. Remember, this was pre-Covid, so I was able to get in with no issue and very little delay. I reached out to my work supervisor to let him know what was going on and that I’d be away from my desk for a while. All good there. I was taken back to the ER area and got the ball rolling.

After my vitals were taken, tests were immediately ordered. Luckily, the BIG tests (MRI, CT scan, heart ultrasound) appeared to be normal. *whew* Good news there. I also did the whole gauntlet of blood and urine tests. Now, I always knew that I was pretty overweight and that my eating habits were NOT good. I was also expecting my blood pressure to be less than spectacular (whih it was, of course). I hadn’t taken any medications for cholesterol or BP. This was mainly due to a condition that Jill and the ER nurses referred to as “manitis” (aka male stubbornness). %100 guilty of that FOR SURE.

While all this is going on, I would have a couple more episodes of that same numbness while sitting in an ER bed.

I wouldn’t end up talking to him until later in the day, but the Neurologist who ordered and reviewed my tests instructed the staff to inform me that I would be admitted to the hospital right away. That’s when the fear REALLY sunk in.

I was taken to a room on the fifth floor and got settled in. The IV was installed, and I got “dressed” in my gown. Private room, too. Not bad. They continued to monitor my vitals... especially my blood pressure which was still far too high. I was started on a drip and began taking medicine to help my BP.

The Neurologist came by to tell me what he believed was going on. In his estimation, the numbness was probably caused by blockages in microscopic veins/arteries (NOT a stroke or a series of mini-strokes), so, this was welcomed news. Blockages are treated with cholesterol medication (something I figured was coming at some point).

It was around this time that another person (a nurse, I believe) came in and said something to the effect of “Oh, and by the way... you have type 2 diabetes.”. Wait, what??

The results of the blood work I had done earlier showed my A1C level was WAY WAY WAY too high. If you’re not familiar with A1C, it’s a three month average of your blood sugar. A normal, healthy person’s A1C is probably 4.5 or so. Mine was 11.1. As my work supervisor said, I should have been in a diabetic coma! That’s an incredibly high and dangerous number. So, not only did I begin treatment for high cholesterol to help ease these numbness episodes, I immediately began treatment for type 2 diabetes. This included regular insulin injections throughout the day... in addition to the medication I had begun taking for the blockages.

The meds I was taking for the numbness seemed to have worked. I had one last episode around 5:00pm the day I checked in to the hospital. And now, exactly a year later, I haven’t had another one since then. I was told that I would stay the night in the hospital for further observation. If my BP could get under control, I would be able to go home... tomorrow. I was spending the night in the hospital.

I’m not going to lie. I was incredibly scared at this point. How would I explain to Turner and Sydney what was going on? How long would I have to stay here? Am I going to be okay? What’s actually going on? The questions were swirling. Jill brought the girls up to the hospital that evening and I explained to them, in plain english, exactly what was going on. They understood, which is good... because I didn’t want to hide anything from them (or Jill) anymore.

A new journey was already underway.

After Jill and the girls left for the night, I had a little bit of a meltdown. Okay, maybe two... but they were interrupted by the constant flow of nurses coming to poke me with needles. I’m a good patient, though, and complied with all of the instructions I was given. The way I figured, if I followed instructions and did what I was told, I would get to go home sooner.

It worked. I was ultimately discharged at about 5:30 on Tuesday... about 36 hours after arriving.

I met with a diabetic counselor to start the learning process (which is ongoing until this very day). I started on insulin while I was in the hospital and began checking my sugar (finger pricks) 4 times a day. I also made an appointment with a new primary care doctor for later that week. I was on my way!

After meeting with my doctor (which I’ve done regularly for the past year), I was able to get on a path to wellness. I used to eat absolute garbage... and HUGE portions of it, too. I also dropped the diet coke right away. To this day, I still don’t take in ANY caffeine. I immediately went low/no carb, low/no sugar, HIGH protein. I did have to drop beer, which is sad. I really enjoyed my nice, locally crafted IPA’s, but they have WAY too many carbs. I switched to bourbon, though. A suitable replacement, if you ask me. Ha ha! All throughout this process, I found that I have far more self control and will power than I ever imagined. At the risk of sounding cliche’, if *I* can make these changes, literally anyone can.

In more recent days, I’ve found that I can take in a bit more carbs (and even some sweets) and still keep my sugar under control. I still can only eat smaller portioned meals and get full much quicker than I used to. I’m good for usually one big meal a day (usually dinner). I still keep the carbs way down, though. I’ve been able to learn how my body reacts to certain kinds of carbs and adjust my meals based on that. For instance, pizza doesn’t really affect me too terribly bad. French fries, however, aren’t as good. It’s stuff like that I’ve had to train on. It’s been a lot of trial and error, but in the long run, it’s worth it.

It hasn’t always been easy. There were plenty of times where a delicious piece of cake was waved under my nose... or a big pile of french fries were put in front of me. It was that fear of poor health that kept me away from those things, though. It was the motivation of wanting to walk my daughters up the aisle at both of their weddings. It was the notion of growing old with Jill, holding our grandchildren, and living a FULL. Once I found that motivation, it got easier.

Early on in the journey, I would do things that weren’t so smart... like purposely withhold meals. I would say I wasn’t hungry, when in truth, I was afraid of food. I’m not proud of this and it’s definitely NOT the way to go. But you have to understand... I was making a complete 180 degree change in my lifestyle, and I didn’t really know what I was doing. There was also a medication had the main purpose of controlling my blood sugar levels. One of its side effects was that it would completely zap my appetite. That also caused me to skip a lot of meals. These days, my appetite is much better and healthier, and I rarely ever skip a meal. If I do, it’s because the previous meal was on the bigger side.

In the months that followed, I would make regular visits to my new doctor (which I still do to this day... about every three months). I have also been able to adjust my medication to almost nothing. Eventually, I was able to drop the insulin (and later, the metformin which is a popular drug for diabetics). I still take one pill to control my sugar as well as medication for cholesterol and blood pressure.

The main thing that’s helped me was diet... because I HAAAATE exercise. Definitely not a fan. I admit that I probably would have gotten much further much quicker had I done literally ANY kind of exercise, but it is what it is. These days, I could probably stand to do some kind of exercise just to tone up what I have... and what I have is still kind of a “dad bod”... it’s just 85 pounds lighter than it used to be. ha ha!

I’ve had to get a completely new wardrobe, too! I went from a 40 inch waist to a loose 34 (33 would be perfect). I was squeezing into XL sized shirts (2X in some cases)... now, I’m mostly wearing size MEDIUM. Depending on the brand, LG shirts are sometimes a bit too loose. I tell ya what... the clothing part ALONE absolutely blows my mind! I had taken MANY BIG BAGS of clothes to a local thrift store. Also, we took Turner and Sydney to Old Navy a couple weeks ago to get new pants for the fall. While we were there, I decided to try on a couple shirts. You see, Old Navy doesn’t make clothes for people like me (or like how I used to be). The occasional XL sized t-shirt, maybe. But generally speaking, Old Navy wasn’t my store. Well, not only was I able to fit into a shirt, it was MEDIUM sized... not even large! Not gonna lie...I teared up a bit. That was a moment for sure. I brought home about 6 or 7 new shirts for the fall that day. I mean, wow.

I’ve been writing this blog in my heads for several months, and I feel like I’ve gotten everything written out, so I’ll wrap this up. I never knew how miserable I was before until I actually got healthy. I feel better now than I ever remember feeling. I’m sleeping better (and not snoring anymore, according to Jill), I have SO much more energy, and life, in general, is just.... better.

As of today, I’m 85 pounds down, my blood pressure and cholesterol are at normal, healthy levels, and most importantly, my A1C is 5.0... well below the diabetic range. Even though my numbers are good, I’ll *always* be a diabetic, so I’ll always have to be careful about what I eat.

Thank you to everyone who has expressed their congratulations. It means a lot... and hearing “Wow, you look great!” never (NEVER) gets old.

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clowncartardis · 5 years ago

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March 11 roundup

Health:

CT scan for the weird cyst under my chin, follow-up next week, seems to be unrelated to everything else but is still distressing

Saw the immunologist for the first time yesterday and really like her!! Was paralyzingly nervous about the appointment but she was nice and she listened. Doesn't think it's histamine intolerance, but thinks it might be a sensitivity—the fact she knows about HIT at all is a blessing. Allergy testing in 2 weeks, which unfortunately coincides with the worst of my pre-period symptoms, which I was going to try to treat with benadryl. So I lose another week. BUT she gave me a referral to a GI! And she mentioned it might be pernicious anemia vs. B12 deficiency, and acknowledged that the metformin might be a culprit and that as someone with preexisting stomach issues I maybe shouldn't have been put on it

Still waiting on blood test results from the primary I had to beg for the blood tests from, who didn't want to run them at my physical since my "endocrinologist had already run them 4 months ago" even though he didn't check a bunch of vitamins/other things a primary should check for

Had an emergency psychiatry appointment and am allowed to stop the wellbutrin, which I think (and he disagrees) were contributing to my daily migraines, fatigue and constant muscle cramps. No immediate plans for a new antidepressant until after the blood test results are in and I treat any vitamin deficiencies, since it really might just be deficient B12

Psychiatrist referred me to the dietician. Intro packet freaks me out, but between the stress of grad school/stress of illness/anxiety of either FODMAP or low-histamine and being triggered by gaining ~20 pounds over a few months I'm grateful for the resource

Made an appointment with the nurse practitioner in the women's clinic my friend LOVES who will hopefully okay taking me off the metformin. With the diet stuff that'll be addressed I should be fine, and I am taking it for PCOS without being insulin resistant anyway

Did you know metformin causes b12 deficiency and reacts with topirimate to cause lactic acidosis and also is a DAO inhibitor? Oops. Wellbutrin is also a histamine liberator and so is topirimate, but I want to stay on the topirimate. Anti-convulsants (topirimate and also lamotirgine, which I'm taking a higher than normal dose of) also cause b12 deficiency. OOPS.

Why has... No one tested my b12 in years ffs

ALSO made an appointment with a new primary doctor at the campus health clinic to take over for the old one who didn't run blood tests, who didn't go over what she was running when I begged her, who didn't believe me when I talked about the drug interactions listed above, who told me to exercise as I was crying about not being able to shower without my legs cramping up. Hopefully new primary is good!

Health to do:

Cancel upcoming OBGYN appointment, get their fax number (call first, then drive out since they DON'T RETURN MY CALLS which was very distressing during the Birth Control Fiasco of January 2020)

Make GI appointment

Go back to school, request records from primary and from OBGYN

Academic to do:

Reread book and papers for week-late environmental security essay, hope professor will still accept it

Write international relations theory essay that's more than a week late

Work on summer program cover letters

Grade! Papers!

Read framework book

Get started on reading for Sunday

(this isn't all for today, it's for the rest of the break)

I'm glad I have beans and rice and roast to defrost. It'll be a nice dinner. Especially since I only had a few spoonfuls of cold oatmeal for breakfast since I couldn't wake up and nearly missed my food window before the 4-hour CT scan fast. Kinda hungry. 2.5 hours to go.

#Health roundup #Chronic illness

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fixedwithgold · 6 years ago

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Not Part of the Plan

“The devil whispered in my ear, ‘You are not strong enough to withstand the storm.’ Today I whispered in the devil’s ear, ‘I am the storm.’ ”

I had so many thoughts about how I was going approach my blog post marking a year from Pete being diagnosed with cancer. It was going to be a celebration of how far he has come, how he’s coped with the past 4 months in remission and how we’ve learnt so much in our journey. It is devastating for me not to be writing what I had planned. Last week, after a month of uncertainty, we learnt that Pete has relapsed, and his cancer has returned. There are quite frankly no words that can accurately describe quite how much this has rocked us. And while I hoped that I would be able to be ‘cest la vie’ about wherever his recovery path took us, we find ourselves impossibly heartbroken at the cruelty that nature has shown him.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, retrospect is a wonderful thing, but even with the benefit of hindsight we could never have imagined that we would be dealing with this news only 5 months after being given the news he was in remission. Recovery has not been easy, and it has been hard for him to get back to full fitness. His immune system has taken a serious battering from the chemotherapy, however he was delighted to have returned to work on a phased return and although he was exhausted at the end of his working week, we thought it was just all part of the recovery from what his body had been through. We spent 2 weeks in Florida in July and they day before we flew out, his oncologist confirmed that his latest blood tests were fine. In blissful ignorance we boarded the flight ready for 2 weeks of fun. It was just that, although his exhaustion was extreme and he became very ill just prior to returning home. Probably then alarm bells should have started ringing, although they didn’t at the time. On returning from holiday, Pete was hospitalised with what turned out to be pneumonia and via the x-rays and CT scans he had done at the time we were alerted by the doctors that there was a swollen 4cm node in his chest. Thinking nothing more of it, he was discharged and spent the following 3 weeks recovering. We went for what we thought was a routine check-up at the hospital the day before my birthday, but by the demeanor of the consultant and what she was saying, we knew that something was very wrong. The results of a further PET scan devastatingly confirmed that the node was indeed cancer. The following day Pete had exploratory chest surgery at the Golden Jubilee Hospital in Glasgow and a week later, on our sons 4th birthday, we received the confirmation that his HL had come back.

The days in the aftermath of this news have been incredibly dark days, and days I hope no one ever has to go through. Whereas Pete’s diagnosis last year brought a degree of relief and finally an answer after a very long process, this news could not be more polar opposite. It is crushing and painful and it has totally knocked the wind from us. On Monday, we will meet with Pete’s MDT (multi-disciplinary team) to discuss his treatment plan, and know nothing more just now other than it will be a much more aggressive regime than last time, involving in-patient chemotherapy and a stem cell transplant. We have a hundred questions swirling round our heads just now and I know that he is in the best hands, but it is difficult not to feel angry at the injustice of the situation. Relapse rates are ridiculously low (less than 5%). Pete jokes that if he was in a room of 100 people, and was told 5 of those people had won the lottery he wouldn’t be one of those 5, yet he’s been one of the 5 who relapse. He is such a fit, active, young(ish) guy, and it feels wholly unfair, but I suppose that is part of this awful disease. So bloody unfair. Rest assured although just now is tough, we’ve got this. Pete has got this. He’s a stubborn sod, and he won’t let this beat him. He is the storm.

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it-happenedtome · 6 years ago

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It wasn’t anxiety, it was brain cancer

For years, I struggled with food. I would have random bouts of nausea and vomiting, or even just hours of nausea with no vomiting (which can feel worse). I would be terrified to leave my house at night and go somewhere because I would always be scared of getting sick and having to leave early. I felt guilty burdening my friends, family, and fiance with this fear and EVERY doctor I saw said it was some other stupid and incorrect diagnosis. I’ve heard I’m allergic to gluten, I’ve heard I have acid reflux, I’ve heard it was anxiety and all in my head. Nothing seemed to work and no medicine helped. I began to fear that people thought I was making it up to get out of things or leave places early, but the truth of the matter is that it killed me to leave so many important events early and miss out on memories. I took every test imaginable and never got any answers. This went on for 2 years.

Then, the headaches started. They were at the base of my skull, and excruciating unlike anything I’ve ever known. They felt muscular because they were so close to my neck, and they were pounding and constant. They started off with pain when I would yawn, stretch, go from sitting to standing and vice versa, etc. Then the pain became 24.7. I couldn’t function. I started yoga, I started seeing a chiropractor, I did everything I could to relieve the pain. Nothing helped. I used to be awoken by the pain at 3 in the morning and go to the kitchen in a daze to grab an ice pack to fall asleep on so that it would numb the pain enough for me to doze off again.

I was naive and I thought nothing bad could possibly happen to me because I’m young, and I have the hubris of believing that I’m invincible. This blog is so people understand just that--it happened to me. Listen to your body when you KNOW something is wrong. I let doctors blow me off and blame anxiety instead of taking me seriously and I suffered for longer than I should have.

One night, I felt dizziness like I hadn’t before. I blew it off, but the next morning I was super nauseous. That night, I went to the ER thinking I could just get an IV with some fluids and feel better. I mentioned my symptoms and the doctors thought it was vertigo because of the dizziness. I’m so lucky the doctor there suggested getting a CT scan of my neck because he was worried the chiropractor had messed me up. Once we got the CT, we saw something poking out from my skull. We did a brain MRI and were told there was a golf ball sized “mass” on my brain, on the bottom left side pressing on my cerebellum. The muscular headaches were caused because the tumor was pushing on my left ventricle artery and hurting the muscle, and the nausea was because my brain fluid wasn’t allowed to drain because of the tumor. This meant I had 2 years of fluid buildup in my brain and this was making my body want to dehydrate itself by vomiting as much as possible even though that didn’t help. It was also because the tumor was right on the center of the brain that controls nausea (lucky me). This all happened at like 3 am on January 16, 2018.

On January 18, I had brain surgery. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Cancer wasn’t even a word anyone had used yet. We didn’t even consider the possibility that this wouldn’t be benign. I was extremely lucky with my surgery as I had NO complications and he got the entire tumor. Within a month I was driving again and my recovery was great. I had no headaches, dizziness, or nausea. I felt so lucky my problem had been solved. I was back to work and eating whatever I wanted, sleeping through the night, living as I always should have.

After pathology failed to give us the 100% clear that my tumor was benign, we tested it at several other places and were told the news that I had medulloblastoma, which is an extremely rare, aggressive pediatric cancer. No one knew where it came from. There is no history of anything like this in my family. I got lots of tests done which thankfully proved it hasn’t spread, and then started radiation.

Before radiation, I had to go through a very invasive and private process for about 3 weeks, one I’m not comfortable sharing online. This process was horrible. I had to inject myself every night, get blood tests every day, discuss things I’d never worried about before, and then have another surgery. It was an emotional roller coaster and it only weakened me.

I was told radiation would be easy and a breeze. I had to do 31 rounds and from the first one I was miserable. I was told I would be able to keep working throughout radiation but the first night I was a wreck. I emailed my HR guy off the bathroom floor and told him I wouldn’t be coming back, and I didn’t know for how long. I was vomiting for hours at a time, unable to eat, get out of bed, or even function normally. I had to go to everyday, 31 days in a row. I lost all of my hair as well as about 15 pounds. At one point I was vomiting blood and needed another procedure. Radiation was pure hell.

Once it was over, they gave me a month to recover before I started chemo. My chemo regimen is cisplatin (causes loss of hearing and messes with my kidneys), then one week later vincristine for 3 weeks in a row (causes extreme fatigue), then one week later 2 days of cytoxan. This regimen, only 1 round, completely killed me. I was vomiting, nauseous, and dry heaving for 12 days straight. I lost another 20 pounds. At a certain point I was delirious from starvation and dehydration. When you get to a certain point of physical torture, when it’s 4 am and you haven’t had relief in days and it feels like there’s no end, you start to wish you wouldn’t wake up anymore. You go to a very dark place and start dreaming of euthanasia and start wondering what the point is of even fighting to live when being alive is TRUE torture. No one understands this. They just say things like “don’t give up, fight through this, you’re a survivor, it’s all only temporary!” To them I say, try going through the emotional and mental trauma of having cancer at 25, and then going through the physical HELL and trauma that only a cancer patient can understand. I finished that first round but I told my oncologist I can’t go that heavy for the next 5. (I have to do a minimum of 6). She’s slightly changed my regimen and has promised me it will be easier to deal with. We’ll see.

I’ve been up since 5 am because my appointment with my surgeon is today because my incision was infected. The antibiotics he prescribed have been killing me and I won’t be taking them anymore, as I have become very resistant to doctors and the things they want me to put in my body. I want to take some control back. I also will get my MRI results to pray and hope that there isn’t anything of concern in my scans. This is my current cancer story and I can’t help but cry about it every day so I decided to write about it as the sun comes up.

#cancer #chemo #chemotherapy #medulloblastoma #brain cancer

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atc74 · 7 years ago

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Stronger Than Me

Written for the amazingly talented @ilostmyshoe-79 and her 27K Sweet Emotions Challenge and my dear friend, @mamaredd123 and her 2K 100 Quotes of Supernatural Challenge. My emotion is PRIDE and my quote is “Wanna try that again like you mean it.”

This is also my contribution for RPF Appreciation Day 2017.

A/N: I would like to give a shout out to my girl Liz, @charliebradbury1104, for her help with the medical stuff, and for reasons (Liz) I choose Felicia x Jensen. This is an AU. Also, thank you to my bestie, @just-another-busy-fangirl, for being the best beta ever.

A/N 2: I have a couple of friends that are going through a difficult time right now and needed some fluff to cheer them up. This fic was inspired by their stories. I am really proud of how this turned out and I am grateful to them for sharing their story with me so I could write this. I hope you guys like it.

Pairing: Single Parent!Felicia Day x Nurse!Jensen Ackles, AU

Word Count: 7680

Warnings: Medical jargon, mentions of pregnancy, death, disease, angst and a shit ton of fluff, I hope. Oh, and Nurse!Jensen - definitely a warning.

Summary: Felicia is a single parent that has been busting her butt off for years to put herself through school to be an Occupational Therapist and provide for her son. When she falls ill, the hot nurse isn’t exactly what she expected, but maybe he is what she needed.

Felicia was working her way through her occupational therapy patients quickly. They all were progressing better than she had expected. Although young at only twenty-four years old, she had busted her butt to get to where she was, proud of herself and her patients.

As circumstance would have it, she got pregnant at seventeen. Her highschool sweetheart freaked out and was leaving for college the following week. Felicia’s parents had been none too happy, but she was their blood and so was the baby and she was grateful for the support system she had.

Felicia took a year off of school during her pregnancy and stayed home with her infant son, Henry James. Born a few weeks early in the middle of March, she was able to spend an entire spring and summer just being a mom and it was the best job she would ever have.

Being a single mom and going to school full time was no easy task and it took it’s toll on Felicia, but she did it. She graduated near the top of her class and had secured a job before graduation at the clinic where she had been working during her senior year as an assistant. Felicia’s career was fulfilling and she was satisfied with her life. She was making enough money to put more than the minimum toward her student loans and get a bigger, better place for Henry and herself.

Felicia specialized in working with children that experience developmental delays, whatever the cause. She spent her days teaching them how to use crayons, tie their shoes and take care of themselves. It was a challenge but she couldn’t imagine changing career paths.

~*~

“Felicia! Felicia, can you hear me?!” She heard her co-worker, Megan, call out, but it was distant, like she was in a tunnel. Slowly, Felicia’s eyes fluttered open and she was met with Megan’s kind face, filled with worry.

“What? Why are you yelling?” Felicia mumbled, pain radiating throughout her body and she moaned in discomfort.

“Felicia, do you know what happened? Do you know why you are on the floor?” she inquired, her voice filled with concern.

“Megan, why am I on the floor?” Felicia turned her head and saw two feet pointed in her direction.

“Honey, I think you had a seizure. Don’t move, the ambulance is on it’s way,” Megan spoke calmly, like all of the OT’s were trained to do with patients, only Felicia was not usually a patient.

“How? I was just working with Amelia and she was writing her numbers…” Her voice trailed off and she remembered falling, but not why. All she could think was not again.

~*~

“Miss? Can you tell me your name please?” Felicia heard the emergency room doctor ask.

“Felicia Day,” she responded.

“Good. Do you know what day it is Felicia?” he asked.

“Yes, it is Thursday,” she told him.

“Excellent. You are doing very well, Felicia. We are going to run some tests and keep you overnight for observation. According to your co-worker you had a seizure, so we want to figure out why. Is there anyone we can call for you?” the doctor inquired.

“Um, yeah, my parents,” Felicia replied, her throat dry and mind reeling that she had had a seizure.

“They are already in the waiting room; I will let them know what is going on and send them in.” He gave her a kind smile, then turned and left.

“Oh honey! I was so worried! They wouldn’t tell us anything!” Felicia’s mother pushed through the door to the room where she was laid out in the bed.

“I’m okay, Mom. Really, I feel fine, but they want to keep me overnight.” Felicia groaned at the thought of being away from her son for the night.

“Oh Baby, Henry is going to be just fine. Sheila already picked him up and he is excited to have a sleepover at her house,” Felicia’s father reassured her. Henry really did love their neighbor Sheila and her two boys, who were around his age. Felicia felt a little better knowing he would at least have fun while she was away.

“Excuse me, Miss Day? I am Ana and I am here to take you upstairs for an CT scan. Are you ready?” a nurse asked sweetly as she came in the room.

“As I’ll ever be. Mom, please kiss Henry goodnight for me, tell him I love him and I will call him in the morning, okay?” Felicia asked her mother as Ana started unhooking her from the wires for transfer to a wheelchair.

“Of course I will, now get some rest; I’ll be back in the morning.” Her mother kissed her on the temple and was gone.

~*~

The CT scan took longer than Felicia had expected and it wasn’t until after ten at night when she was wheeled back into her room. Ana helped Felicia out of the chair and into an ugly gown, then into the bathroom where a toothbrush and toothpaste were waiting. Felicia took care of her business and wiped her hands on the scratchy towels that smelled like bleach.

“Ana, I am kinda hungry; I didn’t get any dinner,” she hinted at her, hoping she could sneak something in.

“Sure, I will see what I can find, I will be back in a bit,” Ana told Felicia, assisting her into bed before she left the room.

Felicia mindlessly flipped through the crappy channels on the too small television screen and sighed because there was nothing on. A knock sounded at the door before it swung open.

“Oh good, you’re still awake. Hi, Miss Day, my name is Jensen and I will be your overnight nurse.” The voice was deep and rolled over Felicia like a soft summer rain.

“Felicia. My name is Felicia and you’re a nurse?” she gasped, assuming he was a doctor. He was quite attractive in his navy blue scrubs.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “I get that a lot. Ana mentioned you were hungry so I brought you a snack.” He moved the tray over the bed and laid out some jello, a banana and a piece of string cheese.

“Thank you, Jensen,” Felicia said as she peeled the banana and took a bite. She was so hungry now, that it didn’t matter what she ate, anything would taste good.

“They didn’t get all your personal history before you were moved from the ER, so I have a few questions for you, if that is alright?” he asked politely while she finished the banana and simply grunted a reply.

“Okay then,” he laughed again. His questions were pretty mundane and Felicia answered quickly. “Have you ever experienced a seizure before today?”

“When I was eighteen, six years ago. I was thirty-seven weeks pregnant. They diagnosed me with strep and explained that the seizure was caused by the high fever. They performed a cesarean to take Henry early so they could treat me without harming him,” she explained to the nurse.

“Henry, that is a strong, solid name. I will be right back, I have to check on a couple other patients, okay?” he informed her and stepped out into the hallway, but not before Felicia noticed his brows knit in confusion.

~*~

Jensen pulled up Felicia’s records once he returned to the nurse’s station; something didn’t make sense. He saw the admittance for the seizure, but her temperature had been recorded at 101.3 degrees, certainly not high enough to induce a seizure, but consistent with a streptococcal diagnosis. Curiosity unbecoming of a medical professional got the better of him and he also pulled Felicia’s son’s birth records; no father was listed on the birth certificate.

Jensen quickly checked on his other patients before making his way back to her room. “You’re still awake,” he commented quietly, the door still open.

“Yeah, I guess. I can’t seem to get comfortable,” Felicia groaned as each position she tried was painful.

“Yeah, that happens when you hit the floor pretty hard, like you did. I can get you something mild for the pain if you want it,” he offered.

“That would be good, thank you.” Jensen returned minutes later with a pill and a fresh pitcher of water so she could swallow it. He showed her where the call buttons were and said he would be back to check on her in a couple of hours. Within twenty minutes, Felicia was out like a light.

~*~

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty awakes!” Jensen proclaimed as he entered her room with a tray at six the next morning.

“Ha, very funny Nurse Jensen,” Felicia quipped, in a better mood thanks to a good night’s sleep.

“And she does have a sense of humor! Not a great one, but it is there,” he joked as he set the tray down in front of her. Watery scrambled eggs, overcooked bacon and a dry english muffin never looked so good.

“Thank you for breakfast,” she smiled at him taking a sip of juice.

“You thank me like it’s a date or something; I am just doing my job, Felicia,” Jensen replied, a slight blush creeping up his freckled cheeks.

“Well, maybe one day…” Felicia swallowed down her words with another bite of eggs.

“So, I am on my way out, and hopefully I won’t see you again,” he said as he made some notes in her chart.

“Sick of me already, Jensen?” she teased.

“Oh quite the contrary, but I try not to pick up chicks at work,” Jensen told her and quickly changed the subject. “You have an MRI in an hour, but before that, I am going to hook you up to the EEG, electroencephalogram; it is going to read your brain cell activity, smarty pants, so we can see what is going on in that pretty red head of yours.”

“Oh, so you have a thing for redheads, huh?” Felicia wasn’t always such a flirt, but she was in the hospital with no escape, so why not.

“Maybe, but you are still my patient,” Jensen teasingly scolded her while he attached wires to her head.

“Michelle will be here at seven to take you upstairs for the MRI and then the Doc will come back into go over the test results with you, okay? I won’t be back until eleven tonight but you will be back home with your boy, so good luck with everything, Felicia.” Jensen paused.

“Bye Jensen, and thanks again for the breakfast date.” She smiled at him as he left the room and she finished her juice.

~*~

“Epilepsy? How can that be? I am a perfectly healthy twenty-four year old mother with a very active six year old at home,” Felicia protested as the doctor sat down, giving her the results of the MRI. Felicia’s parents sat on the other side of the bed and the tears in her mother’s eyes started falling.

“We want to keep you another night, run some more tests, make sure there isn’t any permanent damage. I am going to prescribe you an anti-seizure medication and that should control them; if it doesn’t, we keep going until we find one that does. I am concerned because this is the second time you have been in here in less than a year,” the doctor suggested and she turned to her parents.

“I am sorry, I should have told you,” Felicia started. “It was when you took Henry to Disney World. I didn’t want to tell you, because I felt fine; I do feel fine.”

“Oh honey; you need to take better care of yourself to make sure you are healthy for Henry,” her father said as he laid a hand on her knee and she felt the tears fall.

“I need to talk to him,” Felicia decided. The doctor left the room and she picked up her phone to call Sheila. After a few minutes on the phone with her, Felicia asked her to put Henry on.

“Hey Buddy! Are you being good for Sheila?” you asked, knowing he was better for everyone else than he was for you.

“I will be home tomorrow. I had to go visit a sick friend out of town, okay? But I love you, Henry. And you be good, okay? … Yes, I will come pick you up tomorrow as soon as I get back… I love you, okay, bye, Baby.” Felicia’s tears continued to flow as she disconnected the phone, but she managed to keep her voice calm, for herson.

“Hey, Mom, can you grab some things for me? I need pajamas and a change of clothes. I need a shower. My overnight bag is in the hall closet,” Felicia asked and wiped her face.

“Of course honey. I will be back in a little bit,” her mother said and they were gone again before lunch.

Megan had given the EMTs Felicia’s purse, so at least she had a charger with her. She plugged in the phone and began playing pointless games to keep her mind occupied.

~*~

By mid-afternoon, Felicia was showered and felt human again. She had on her comfiest pair of pajamas with a book in her lap. Ana, the nurse from yesterday, was back and had brought you an extra blanket, as the room had been a little on the cool side.

Felicia had undergone more blood tests and a set of neurological tests in the afternoon. The doctor had confirmed they believed she had experienced a clonic seizure, possibly more than the two she knew about. It would explain her sore muscles and neck, not to mention the bruises on her arms.

Dinner was rather tasteless and lonely as she spent time quality time with the crappy television. Felicia was wound up and knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep, so she slipped on her sandals and started walking. She snuck down to the nursery, gazing at the sleeping babies that had just been brought into this world. Felicia longed to have another baby someday, but maybe it wasn’t in the cards for her, maybe Henry was it.

Felicia walked a little farther down the hall to the elevator. She glanced around quickly and figured she wouldn’t be missed and hopped in the next car. She peeked at her phone and figured she had a couple hours before the nurse’s shift change.

Felicia found herself wandering the main floor when she happened upon the still open cafeteria. Thankful she had the forethought to toss some cash in her pocket, she grabbed a muffin and a cup of tea, then made her way out to the courtyard. The night was still pleasant and she was comfortable. Felicia sat down on the empty bench and sipped at her tea.

A thousand thoughts ran through her mind. Henry was at the top of them all. Since the day she discovered she was pregnant, he consumed every waking thought and most of the non-waking ones. After working with patients everyday, she counted herself lucky that Henry was healthy and now here she was, in the hospital for the second time in six months. How do you tell your six year old son that you were sick?

“Excuse me, Miss? Is this seat taken?” A deep voice washed over Felicia and she looked up.

“Jensen, what are you doing here?” Felicia gasped, shocked to see him here and embarrassed that she had been caught out of bed.

“My shift starts in an hour and I came to see my brother and his family; they just had a new baby, a little girl. I stopped to get a cup of coffee and I saw you out here. There are not many redheads that would be sitting out here in purple flannel pajamas, so I guessed it was you. You okay? You look…” his voice trailed off and she could tell he was looking for the least offensive word.

“Lost? Confused? Angry? Take your pick,” she huffed.

“Yeah, one of those. You want to talk about it? I have been told I am a pretty good listener,” he offered.

“You’re my nurse, Jensen, not my therapist. You don’t need to listen to the ramblings of an angry woman,” Felicia replied.

“Hey, just because I am your nurse, doesn’t mean I can’t listen. Part of what we do isn’t just physical care, Red; we offer emotional support as well. I am here to listen if you decide you want to talk,” he finished and just sat there next to her, drinking his coffee while she sipped the cooling tea.

“Maybe I do,” Felicia thought aloud. “I have spent the last six years busting my ass to put myself through school, raise my son, and I am doing a damn good job. I have a great career doing something I love. I get to help people and they pay me really well to do that. I will be able to buy our own house in less than a year; I already started looking,” she confessed to him, basically a complete stranger.

“Then I get slapped in the face with this! What was the point of busting my ass if it is all going to be taken away from me?” her voice broke and she buried her face in her hands, her breathing became rapid.

Felicia felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulders as he pulled her into his side. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but this is not a death sentence. Epilepsy can be controlled with proper medication. If you can keep it controlled, you can stop taking the medicine,” Jensen whispered calmly and she started breathing normally again, matching her breaths with his.

“I only just found out this morning, how do you know? You weren’t even here,” Felicia looked up as she questioned him.

“I may have logged in the system when I got here early and checked up on you...saw your diagnosis and that you weren’t discharged yet,” he admitted sheepishly. “Come on, let’s get you back to your room,” Jensen offered his hand as he rose to his feet and she took it. He lead the way back inside and held the door for her.

“Head on up to your room; I have to get changed and I will see you in a few, okay?” Jensen asked.

“Yeah. And Jensen?” Felicia held tight to his hand. “Thanks for tonight.”

“It’s like our second date. And you are very welcome.” Jensen smiled at her, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. Felicia hadn’t noticed how green they were in the dim light of her hospital room, but here in the brightly lit atrium, they shone like emeralds.

“You’re gonna have to step up your game if you think you are getting a third date, Mister,” Felicia teased as she laughed and headed for the elevator, feeling better than before, all because of him.

Once she’d gotten in her room undetected, she climbed back into bed, sitting cross legged and waiting for Jensen to return. Felicia thumbed through her phone for a few minutes but found herself distracted. If this were any other situation and he were any other guy, she would be totally attracted to him. In reality, she was attracted to him, but this is no ordinary situation. Felicia was in the hospital and she was his patient. She had more important things to worry about than the fact that she had not been on a date since before she got pregnant.

Felicia gazed out the window at the night sky, the city lights disrupting the stars from shining through; no wishing on a star for her tonight. Felicia sighed and closed her eyes.

“Penny for your thoughts, pretty girl,” Jensen’s voice broke through her melancholy and she turned to face him.

“Not much going on up here, probably not worth the penny. Save it,” Felicia mumbled, wiping the tears she knew had fallen.

“Hey, what did I tell you? Everything is going to be okay,” he whispered as he sat on the end of the bed. “Tell me about Henry.”

He was good, she had to give him that. Felicia didn’t really feel like talking, but then he asked her to talk about her one weakness. “He is amazing. He is six. He plays soccer and baseball. He is smart, already reading at a 3rd grade level and he just finished kindergarten.”

“Sounds like a smarty pants, just like his Mama,” Jensen joked, poking her in the knee.

“Yeah, he is. It is the curse of all parents: ‘I hope when you grow up and become a parent, your kid turns out just like you!’. But I couldn’t be luckier. He loves unconditionally and is fiercely loyal,” Felicia finished, a sappy smile creeping it’s way over her delicate features.

“He sounds like a great kid, Felicia,” Jensen spoke truthfully, she could see it on his face.

“He really is, and I miss him,” she sniffed a little, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

“So, is he with his dad?” Jensen inquired.

“Oh, no, he left a long time ago,” Felicia laughed. “I told him I was pregnant and he ran off to college. He never even got to meet Henry. He was drunk one night and drove his car off a bluff, right into the river.”

“I am sorry, I-I didn’t know,” Jensen apologized.

“It’s okay, Jen,” she whispered. “I made my peace with him not wanting to be a part of my life or Henry’s a long time ago. And he has strong male role models in my dad and my cousin, so I know he will be okay. But…”

“But nothing, Red. I know what you are going to say. You are going to be just fine and Henry is going to be just fine. This is just a bump in the road. I-” Jensen attempted to console her.

“Red, huh?” Felicia interrupted.

“Jen, huh?” he retorted. “I like it.”

“Yeah, I like it, too. Say, don’t you have other patients, Mr. Too Good To Be True?” She eyed him.

“It’s almost midnight and they are all asleep. I don’t have to do rounds for another couple of hours. You sick of me already?” he joked again, this time wrapping his arm around her neck in a fake headlock.

“You know you are the only thing keeping me sane, so no, and I don’t think I ever will be,” Felicia whispered as she looked up into his eyes.

“I thought you said I had to step up my game to get a third date?” he recalled.

“Yeah, well, I’m weak, what can I say?” she shrugged.

“You are not weak, Red. I have only known you for twenty-four hours and you are the strongest person I have ever met, far stronger than me. You are brave and kind and loving. I am proud of you. You got this,” Jensen whispered as he pulled her close once more.

“Yeah, I got this,” Felicia mumbled.

“Hey, wanna try that again like you mean it?” he challenged her.

“Yeah, I got this!” she repeated, louder this time.

“Let me hear it again,” he prompted one more time.

Felicia threw her hands in the air and shouted, “I got this!”

Jensen quickly put his large hand over her mouth, “Hey not that loud; this is a hospital and people are sleeping!”

“Oops,” Felicia grinned sheepishly, trying to stifle a yawn.

“Hey, let’s get you to bed. It is late and I will be back in the morning, okay?” Jensen pulled the covers back and she crawled in. “Goodnight, Red. Sleep tight,” he whispered before kissing her temple.

“G’night Jen,” she mumbled, already drifting off. He closed the door behind him, allowing his body a rest as he sagged against the frame. What are you doing? he thought to himself.

~*~

The morning light filtered in through the thin shades on the window. Felicia slowly woke and stretched her body out, feeling a little sore but rested. She peeked one eye open against the bright sunlight and a squeak left her lips.

“You have freckles; they’re cute. And you talk in your sleep, did you know that?” Jensen spoke quietly.

“I-what? How long have you been here? And creep much?” Felicia laughed throwing her legs over the side to go into the bathroom to relieve herself and brush her teeth.

“I have only been here about ten minutes. But long enough to hear you say my name,” Jensen spoke a little louder so she could hear him through the door.

Felicia finished her business, ran a brush through her long auburn locks before she opened the door to dispute what he thought he heard. “No, I sir, I don’t think so. I was clearly having an awesome girls night dream with my friend Jennifer.”

“Really? You know you are a terrible liar, Red?” Jensen laughed. “You didn’t say ‘Jen’ you said ‘Jensen’, my name. My name.”

Felicia almost choked on her toothpaste. “No I did not!” she denied.

“You were dreaming about me, weren’t you? You like me!” Jensen teased.

“So what if I was! Have you seen you?” she asked. “And besides, I go home today, so I won’t see you anymore, only in my dreams.”

“That is the good news; you’re going home today.” He grinned. “You want to know the other good news?”

“Yes! I could use some more good news,” Felicia replied.

“As of ten o’clock this morning, you are no longer my patient. So are you going to give me your number so I don’t have to hack hospital records for your personal information and lose my job?” he nagged her.

“What, you planning our fourth date already?” Felicia giggled.

“No, fifth. I am pretty sure this is our fourth date,” he said.

“Oh, so watching me sleep counts as a date now?” she clucked.

“No, but me bringing you breakfast does.” He pulled a warm tray from the bed table and presented her with french toast and fruit.

“A man after my own heart,” she sighed.

“So is that a yes? To your number and date number five?” Jensen pleaded.

“Don’t beg, Jen; it’s unbecoming,” she scribbled her number on a piece of paper and stuffed it in the pocket of his scrubs.

“I have my work cut out for me now. How am I going to top this?” Jensen wondered.

“Well, as long as it is not in this hospital, you have a pretty good chance.” Felicia laughed and started on her breakfast.

~*~

Felicia struggled when she returned home. She took a hot shower before going to get Henry, but broke down in the middle of washing herself. The fear was closing in on her and she knew she had to fight it. After crying on the floor of her shower for half an hour, she forced herself up and got out.

Henry shrieked when she picked him up from Sheila’s and Felicia echoed his excitement to see her. It felt good to be home with her little boy. Sheila handed off his bag as she gave you a sympathetic eye.

“Sheila, I am fine. Thank you for keeping him safe for me. I will see you tomorrow?” Felicia asked.

“Yeah, anytime, Felicia,” Sheila assured her.

Felicia made Henry’s favorite homemade mac and cheese for dinner, then the two of them vegged out in front of the television watching mindless Disney Channel Original Movies, but at least she was home and with her son. Felicia looked over as her phone started buzzing. It was a text from Jensen.

“Hey Red. How does Monday at seven sound? You like Mexican?

“Hey yourself, Jen. No, I prefer Italian, with extra garlic; I want our first kiss to be memorable!”

“You already thought about our first kiss?”

“That is what I was dreaming about when you were creeping on me in my sleep ;)”

“I guess I better bring my A game. Send me your address and I will pick you up.”

“See you then.”

Felicia sent Jensen her address and signed off, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

~*~

Felicia and Henry had a lazy Sunday around their apartment. It was her favorite way to spend time with him. There was nowhere either of them needed to be, nothing pressing to do; it was just her and her favorite little man hanging out.

As happy as she was, she couldn’t stop the thoughts that rolled through her mind continuously. Felicia was angry, despite what Jensen had told her out on that bench at the hospital. She was worried, scared even. The fear gripped her tight and refused to let go. As soon as she had Henry in bed that night, she crawled under her own covers and cried; wept like she hadn’t before. Felicia let every emotion flow out of her. She hadn’t felt this empty since Henry’s father left, then a few months later, when he died. This was worse. Her fears of something happening to her and Henry becoming an orphan were paralyzing and all she could do was weep.

~*~

Monday morning Felicia dropped Henry off at daycare as normal, but didn’t go into work. Her boss had called the night before and told her to take some time. She went back home and crawled back into bed. Felicia wallowed in self-pity and terrible reality television.

What am I doing? This is pointless! I have to pull myself together. I got this! She was not going to let this be what brought her down. She pulled out her phone and called her doctor. Felicia needed to talk to someone and knew it started now.

After she made the first appointment, she called Sheila and asked her to watch Henry for the night before running a bath. Felicia pampered herself because she finally had the time and she had a date. That was cause for shaving her legs, not that she was going to let things go that far, but she finally had the perfect occasion to wear that pretty purple dress she found on clearance a couple months ago.

Felicia carefully straightened her hair and pulled it back into a low pony. Her makeup was light, with a dark pink stain on her lips, and then she was ready to get dressed. The silken fabric of the dress slipped over her curves perfectly and hit just above the knee. She slid her feet into the white wedge sandals and checked her reflection in the mirror. She looked pretty good, not that she was one to toot her own horn.

Just as Felicia grabbed her clutch, a knock sounded at the door. Out of habit, she checked the peephole and her breath caught in her throat. If she thought he was handsome before, the man that stood on the other side of her door was absolutely breathtaking. He wore a dark gray button down and looked as nervous as she felt. Felicia took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“You look stunning,” Jensen breathed out, his green eyes taking in all of her.

“Thank you. It is amazing what not eating hospital food for two days can do to a girl,” she laughed. Felicia grabbed her keys and locked up.

“I hardly think it’s the food,” Jensen murmured, holding his arm out for her, and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, his wrapped warmly over hers.

~*~

“Jen, this place is amazing!” Felicia marveled. The two of them had just placed their order and she took a moment to look around the restaurant. The dark walls and delicate sconces provided just the right amount of lighting as they cast a warm glow over their corner table.

“I am glad you like it. I have been coming here for years with my family, but this is the first time I have even been here on a date,” Jensen told her.

“Oh, so I am your first, huh?” Felicia giggled, taking a sip of her sparkling water.

“Ha, very funny Red.” Jensen rolled his eyes.

“So tell me something about yourself Jen. I feel like you know so much about me; I mean I totally monopolized conversation on those first four dates!” Felicia said.

“Yeah, yeah you did, but that is fine by me. My story isn’t nearly as interesting as yours,” he replied.

“Ugh, I am not interesting. I am boring as hell. All I do is work and parent. This is the first date I have been on since before Henry,” she admitted.

“Oh, so I am your first, huh?” Jensen echoed her earlier jest and she rolled her eyes in response.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Jensen gave in. “I’m twenty-seven. I have been working at the hospital the last four years, since I graduated. I always thought that I would complete the Physician’s Assistant program, but I don’t know; I like the ease of the nursing gig. I don’t have to be the one in charge and it allows me more opportunity to help my patients on a more personal level.”

“You’re a good person, Jen; look how much you helped me in just a couple of days,” Felicia remarked.

“I always knew I wanted to help people, but I didn’t want to be in a ton of debt to do it like a few of my friends. I knew as a nurse, I could help just as many people,” he beamed. She could see in his eyes how much he loved his job.

“Do you have any siblings?” she coaxed.

“Yeah, I have a brother and a sister. They are gigantic pains in my ass, but I love them,” he laughed. “I grew up here, just outside of Dallas, and we were close growing up, even though my sister is several years younger.”

“I don’t have any siblings, but I am really close to a couple of my cousins, so I imagine it is the same,” Felicia remarked.

Their meals arrived and they made idle chat as they ate and the plates were cleared away. It was starting to get late and Felicia couldn’t remember ever having so much fun in her life; she didn’t want the night to be over just yet. Jensen stood and reached for her hand and she made the decision to relay her thoughts to him.

Jensen beat her to it. “I am not ready for this night to end, care to join me for some dessert? I know this great little place.”

“I was just about to say the same thing!” Felicia exclaimed.

“Well, great minds do think alike. Milady?” Jensen placed her hand on his arm and didn’t waste another minute.

~*~

The next two weeks flew by like a whirlwind. Felicia went back to work and spent as much time with Henry as you possible, between baseball and work. She even managed to sneak in some time with Jensen, too, even if it was just for coffee before she headed into work and he was going home.

“I know you are off this weekend and I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with us on Sunday?” Felicia hesitantly asked Jensen one morning over coffee. Although she had given it some thought over the last couple of weeks and it scared the heck out of her, she really wanted Jensen and Henry to meet. They were two of the most important men in her life, after her dad.

“Are you kidding? I would love to!” he exclaimed and put her mind at rest.

“Oh, that is a relief. I was thinking just a picnic in the park by our place. Is that okay with you?” Felicia held her breath.

“Yes! That sounds awesome. What can I bring?” Jensen offered.

“How about dessert? And we are pretty easy to please and no allergies,” she told him.

“Fantastic!” he replied enthusiastically and she could already see the gears turning in his head. “I will pick you guys up at eleven.”

~*~

Jensen arrived on time and Felicia opened the door to let him in. He placed a chaste kiss to her cheek as she greeted him.

“Henry!” Felicia called and he came bounding into the room.

“Henry, this is my friend, Jensen, that I told you about. Jensen, this is my son, Henry,” she introduced them.

“Hi,” Henry greeted this stranger cautiously, standing in front of his mother.

“Hi, Henry. It is nice to meet you. Your mom has told me a lot about you, so I know you like soccer and baseball, right?” Jensen knelt down and shook Henry’s hand as he talked.

“Yeah, I guess,” Henry shrugged.

“Well, I just happened to have brought my glove and bat, along with some baseballs with me, as well as my best soccer ball. What’d’ya say we get to the park and you show me what you got?” Jensen encouraged the boy, trying to bring him out of his shell a bit.

“Oh, I got mad skills.” Henry’s eyes lit up at thought of playing any kind of ball. “Let me get my stuff!” Henry ran off to his room and emerged with his bag and an extra soccer ball. “I’m ready!”

The drive to the park was quick and as Felicia reached in for the picnic basket, Jensen and Henry were already kicking the ball around. She laid out a blanket under the shade of nearby tree and watched them. She was relieved to see how quickly Henry took to Jensen, as he was generally protective of her around people he didn’t know. Felicia’s heart swelled at the sight.

It was a little warm, but that didn’t surprise Felicia much, as it was summer in Texas, but it was a beautiful day to spend outside with a couple of her favorite guys. Henry had Jensen running all over the park, chasing the baseballs he hit and soon Jensen collapsed next to Felicia, begging for water.

“How do you do this? He has so much energy!” Jensen got out between breaths.

Felicia laughed. “I don’t pay baseball with him anymore; it’s too much!” She handed him a bottle of water and called Henry over for lunch.

~*~

Three months had passed since Felicia’s last seizure. The medication seemed to be doing it’s job and she was pleased with the direction her relationship with Jensen was going, as well as how well he got on with Henry. It eased any tension as the three of them spent an increasing amount of time together as of late.

“Hey, I have a question for you,” Jensen asked one night. He typically called before his shifts as Felicia was settling in bed for the night.

“Yeah, shoot,” she replied, snuggling into the covers.

“I want to sign up to coach for Henry’s soccer team this year, but I wanted to ask you first, before I sent in my application. And I want to talk to him about it too, make sure he is okay with it,” Jensen blurted out.

“I think that is a great idea and I think he will love it. Why don’t you come by for breakfast tomorrow and you can ask him yourself,” Felicia offered. She didn’t have to work the next day and Henry had the day off of school.

“You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that,” Jensen let out a long breath. “I will see you in the morning, Red. Sweet dreams.”

“G’night Jen,” she yawned and feel fast asleep.

The next morning, Felicia pulled out all the stops for breakfast: chocolate chip pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage. Jensen was right on time and he greeted her with a deep kiss.

“Hmmm, yum; you taste like coffee and bacon,” he murmured against her lips.

“A few of your favorite things, huh?” Felicia giggled, kissing him once more before handing him his own mug.

“I wanted to tell you something else, too, before Henry got up,” Jensen sat down.

“Sure, what’s up?” she replied, joining him at the table.

“I turned in my notice at the hospital,” Jensen began.

“You what? But you love your job...” Felicia broke in.

“Hold on, hold on; let me finish,” he held his hand up for her to stop. Felicia snapped her mouth closed, waiting for the rest of his news.

“The hospital opened a new clinic and they were looking for a nursing manager, so I applied. The hours are better, no more night shifts, the pay is fantastic, and it will free up my time to spend more of it with you and Henry, and be able to coach,” Jensen finished.

Felicia jumped up and moved across to his side of the table, throwing her arms around his neck. “Jen, this is fantastic! Henry is going to be so happy!”

“Oh, is he the only one?” Jensen teased.

“Well, I can live with it,” Felicia sassed back.

“Can you guys keep it down?” Henry grumbled, shuffling into the kitchen, eyes still closed.

“Good Morning Henry!” Jensen shouted. “Come on, sit down. Your mom made some amazing breakfast, but first I have something I want to ask you.”

“So loud,” Henry moaned, sitting down at the table with a thud as his head his the hard surface.

“Hey Champ, how would you like me to coach your soccer team this year?” Jensen asked and Henry’s head shot up, his eyes wide.

“Are you serious?! That would be awesome!” Henry jumped up and threw his arms around Jensen. He in turn picked up the boy and wrapped him in a tight embrace. Felicia’s legs carried her to them before she knew it and Jensen wrapped one arm around her, too.

~*~

“I can’t think of a better way to wrap up a winning season!” Jensen exclaimed. Henry’s team had won the championship and now the entire soccer team was gathered in Jensen’s yard running around like little crazy people.

“It was a pretty great season, Coach!” Felicia replied, bringing out a couple bags of chips, adding them to the table already overflowing with food.

“Yeah, it was. Thank you for letting me a part of this, a part of your life,” Jensen kissed her quickly, not wanting to be caught by a bunch of first graders.

The party progressed well and before you knew it, Henry was begging to stay at his friend’s house and Felicia couldn’t say no.

“Good, it will give us some much needed alone time,” Jensen teased as she left to walk Henry to his friend’s parents car later.

“In your dreams, Nurse Ackles!” Felicia giggled, knowing the best part of her day was yet to come.

She walked back inside Jensen’s house, ready to start dishes and clean up from the party, but the sight before her was more than she could have possibly prepared herself for. Jensen was on one knee in the middle of his kitchen, a small box in his hand.

“I know we haven’t known each other for very long and some might say this is too fast, but we had our first four dates in two days. I have never met a woman like you before; you are strong, and brave. You are an amazing mother and the most generous person I have ever known. I never knew I could experience a life like this and to have that with you, astounds me. I am in awe of you daily and I am so damn proud of you. Would you please make me the proudest man on the planet and agree to marry me?” He poured out his heart to her.

The tears in her eyes and the lump in her throat made it impossible for Felicia to speak, so all she could do was nod and he slipped the ring on her finger.

~*~

“Boys, I’m home!” Felicia called as she walked in the door setting the bags down. The house was quiet; too quiet. She walked out the back door to see her husband and Henry kicking around the ball. Jensen was still coaching Henry’s nine-year old team and they having a blast and another great season. Felicia sat down and watched her boys as they played.

“Hey, I didn’t see you there! When did you get home?” Jensen asked a few minutes later when he spotted her.

“A little bit ago; I was just watching my boys,” Felicia smiled, standing up to kiss him. “You hungry? I brought home dinner and I am starving!”

“Henry, run in and wash up, please,” Jensen directed toward her son.

“You got it, Dad!” Henry ran back inside and left Felicia and Jensen alone.

“How was your appointment?” he asked, downing a bottle of water, an enormous smile on his face.

“It was good. The treatment has been working; I have been seizure free for more than two years and he has been gradually decreasing the dosage for the last six months. I am officially off my meds!” Felicia threw her hands up in victory and Jensen picked her up, swinging her around.

“Red, that is amazing. I told you this wasn’t the end for you. I am still so proud of you everyday for fighting this battle,” Jensen congratulated her.

“Well, it had to be done anyway, I am just glad to have you here with me,” Felicia smiled up at him slyly. “Besides, the doctor says it’s better for me now to be off the medication for at least the next seven months.”

“Well, yeah, if you haven’t had any seiz--,” Jensen stopped mid-sentence, his eyes growing wide. “What? Seven months...? Red, are you? Are we? Am I?’

“Cat got your tongue, Jen?” Felicia giggled and pulled a black and white sonogram photo out of her pocket.

“Who knew the worst thing in my life would turn out to the best thing that ever happened to me?” Felicia asked before kissing him passionately and wiping away his tears of happiness.

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#RPF Appreciation Day 2017 #sweetemotionschallenge #mama's100quoteschallenge #Jensen Ackles AU #Jensen Ackles #Jensen x Felicia #Jensen AU #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic

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thatjokegavemecancer · 6 years ago

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We’re overdue now I think..

The most wonderful and beautiful day of my life has come and gone. Our wedding was perfect. Thanks to the countless hours Edith, her sister, family (both mom and dad), and everyone/thing involved including my mom, sister, brother, and everyone!

We were married on May 4th 2019 under a rustic Chupah with the most gorgeous of weather, outside, surrounded by the most beautiful flower arrangements and smiling faces you could only find in magazines.

Side note about My wife: WHATASMOKESHOW!

Overwhelmed by the amount of love and smiles seeping out of every pore of or our guests and family was the most incredible of experiences. 2 days later we leave for Portugal (May 6th, 2019).

Our plan: tourist stuff for the first few days in Lisbon, rent a car, get lost in the southern part of Portugal, make our way back up to Porto, then fly to the Azores.

The first few days in our beautiful hostel in Lisbon I found myself a bit restless, as I always am when traveling.

I want to see and experience everything!

The next few days I start getting headaches. I write it off as too much delicious wine and stinky cheese, a lot of walking, and not enough water. So I start chugging water before and after bed, taking some pain meds, and hoping I’ll acclimate.

Over the next few days, the headaches got a bit worse.

By day 8 I am popping 800mg Motrin regularly throughout the day to control these terrible migraines I’ve been getting. Again, I chalk it up to port wines, delicious cured meats, and a minor surgery a few days before our honeymoon.

We get back to the US, and the migraines aren’t getting any better. I get through the first week of work without trouble. Once the office has cleared out Thursday evening, I lift up my end-of-day cup of tea and notice my hand shakes ever so slightly.

Now, there are few things I take great pride in: 1. I am the funniest and most humble person I know 2. I found the most wonderful woman on earth, and somehow convinced her to marry me! 3. My hands do not shake. Ever.

Maybe my sleepy-time tea had a little extra caffeine in it? The following morning, I woke up with the migraine already settled. I started getting ready for work (while singing my version of Moana’s You’re Welcome), and I stumbled ever so slightly on my way to the shower. I turned to Edith, and before I can say we are going to the ER, there was a bag packed with goodies, snacks, books, and fun stuff to do while waiting in the ER already prepared by Edith. (Perks of being married to a nurse).

We stumble into the BWH ER department. They triage us into a room, where the attending, who appeared to be actively trying to avoid eye contact with us, goes “so migraines, huh? You drink caffeine?.” “Uh, sure, but I don’t think this is…” “let’s get him some caffeine pills and some saline.” At this point I mention my history of cancer, and my strong recommendation for a scan. “Sure, let’s get that scan ASAP, and make sure there are no goombas hiding in there.” A quick CT scan and an hour later, I am escorted into the same ER room as before. The same attending bursts in and explains: “So you know those goombas we were checking on? Well, you got some.” This was the last I would ever hear from or see the attending ED Physician. Next enters a very frazzled, kind eyed, neurologist. He ran me Through a thorough neuronexam, and seemed shocked that I am responding as well as I am. He double checks some moves, and finds my only difficulty is “tight rope walking.”

The neurologist then shares that he is so surprised due to the size and location of the tumor. He recommends I go to ICU for monitoring ASAP. After cracking some jokes, and letting the neurologist leave without my usual smart ass remarks, a neurosurgery resident confidently steps into the room. “We need to pluck that guy out of you as soon as possible. If we don’t, you could die. So how does Tuesday morning work? We’d keep you in ICU until then.”

The resident mentions the name of a surgeon, who I immediately “look up” by playing Jewish phone tag and calling one of my longest standing best friends Dr. Sunshine Brem, who followed up by calling and emailing her father. Dr. Henry Brem, who is not only one of the most caring, selfless, funniest, and wonderful people we got on the planet, but also happens to be a world class neurosurgeon at JHU. Not 15 minutes had passed since my initial inquiry to Sarah, before an older energetic man commends the attention of the ED shouting “who is Mr. Dassa? I have an email here from Henry that I need to see him.” The man was wearing a long white coat, and was waving a flimsy piece of freshly printed printer paper. In comes the head of neurosurgery at BWH. “So, I got an email from my friend Henry. Are you the one with the brain tumor on the left?” “I think so…” The surgeon looks over my images, bluntly and kindly stares me in the eyes and says “you’re not waiting until Tuesday. You are living. We are getting you ready for surgery first thing in the morning.”

More imaging is completed, I am escorted to my all inclusive ICU suite, get pumped full of wonderful drugs, zonked out, then next thing I know, I am being rolled into the OR. Anesthesiologists: “you ready? Me: “just give me the good stuff” Anesthesiologist: “hahaha you got it bud.” I wake up with a minor headache, very thirsty, with a catheter in. In the past, I have pulled nurses in closely and asked to either remove the catheter or euthanatize me. Luckily, neither came to fruition.

After a 2 day recovery, the entire team were shocked to see my balance back, no shaking hands, AND that I could name of the current president of the United States (looks like implementing the “I” word takes longer than removing a brain tumor).

I was dismissed by the hospital, told I’m cleared, but before I pick up a handpiece again, I am taking a week to rest, recoup, and make absolutely sure that my hands and eyes are 100+. Anything less, I can teach dentistry, and/or improv classes.

All in all, doing great. Floored by all the supports and love from everyone! Can not wait to get back, and so happy that I can :)

With love! YD

#fuckcancer #fuckcancereveryday #yonistrong #brain cancer

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wesratcliffe · 8 years ago

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lost souls || self para

“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.“ — E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly

tw; death, depression, grief, gore, injury, surgery, mentions of murder, alcohol, drugs

* permission was granted for the use of @rylie-barton

June 5th, 9:58am

The hours spent in the ballroom with his legs broken and mangled were a blur of fear, pain, and grief. There were hours where his body would be so in shock that he didn’t feel anything at all. Those hours were bliss, but the pain always came back with a vengeance, instantly and brutally clearing the fog his mind. He wasn’t sure what time the emergency rescue teams finally cleared away the rubble and got in to rescue the trapped students, he only became aware of it when it became obvious that they’d have to move him.

It was utter agony. Every shift of the people lifting him up off of the ground jostled his broken legs, and pain tore into his mind and body like white hot fire. It only lasted a few seconds until he was safely strapped into the gurney, and then exhaustion overtook him. From lack of sleep, from adrenaline wearing off, from the anxiety and fear that had made his blood run cold, from the pain that swelled and crashed over him like the ocean; all of it was too much for his mind and body to take anymore, and so his consciousness finally faded into blissful darkness.

“Multiple comminuted tibia fractures… shattered patella… dislocated hip… oblique fibula fracture… CT scan for a torn ACL… check for nerve damage…”

Wesley barely registered the words that the frantic doctors and nurses mumbled back and forth to one another as he was wheeled through the hospital. He had an oxygen mask over his face, and his vision was clear enough to see the concerned glances that some of the nurses gave him.

“Reconstructive surgery… Might not ever walk again…”

He was hardly surprised. He had to stare at how awful his legs looked all night. There was no blood, but they certainly looked unnaturally bent and twisted. What would he do if he could never walk again? How would he care for Salem, how would he ride his bike, how would be walk across stage and receive his hard-earned diploma? Wesley barely registered being brought into an operation room, and it was only when they moved him from the gurney to the table that the pain reawakened his exhausted brain.

“Honey–” said a nurse in an annoyingly gentle tone. “I need you to count backwards from ten…”

Ten, he felt a mask slip over his face.

Nine, his eyes started to feel heavy.

Eight, his limbs felt limp.

Seven, his thoughts began to slow.

Six, his eyes shut.

Five, darkness…

June 5th, 2:15pm

It was a steady, rhythmic beeping that registered first in his brain. What was that beeping? It was annoying. He groaned, brows furrowing together when he heard the beeping steadily speed up. His head felt like it was full of cotton, somehow aching and numb at the same time. That beeping was annoying, someone should make it stop.

“How are you feeling?” He’d heard that voice before. Cracking his eyes open against the blindingly white light, Wesley’s mind registered the face of the annoyingly gentle nurse. She looked at him with pity in her eyes; he hated pity.

When he didn’t answer, she walked over to the end of his hospital bed and picked up his chart. Hospital. He was in the hospital. Wesley took in his legs, which were currently hanging slightly above the bed, both of them secured in casts that went halfway up his thigh. Only his toes, which he could tell were covered in deep purple bruises, were slightly visible at the end of the casts.

“Your surgery went very well. It took longer than expected, as the surgeon had to completely reconstruct your right kneecap and dislodge bits of the bone that damaged some of the surrounding tissue. But it all went successfully. You’ll have to wear the casts for six months. Your kneecap and fibula should only take about six to eight weeks to heal, but your tibia, specifically your right tibia, had multiple breaks and will take–”

“Will I ever walk again?” Wesley interrupted, not particularly interested in hearing about the specific details of his broken legs.

The nurse pursed her lips, eyes flickering with pity once again. Maybe he did prefer the clinical bullshit. “We’re… We’re hopeful, that you’ll be able to make a full recovery with limited mobility issues.”

“Hopeful. …So you don’t know.”

“Once you can begin physical therapy, we’ll be able to make a better guess. The best case scenario is that, with diligent physical therapy and treatment, you’ll be able to walk without much trouble. Perhaps some lingering pain in your knee and some minor mobility issues, but with time you’ll hardly notice.”

“And the worst case?”

“…Worst case scenario is that the ACL in your right knee doesn’t heal properly and you’ll permanently need assistance to walk, such as crutches or a cane.”

Wesley let the words sink in as a heavy silence fell over the room. He might not ever walk properly again. It hit him like a ton of bricks, like the chunk of the ceiling that had caused this in the first place. Would he be able to do anything?

“We are very hopeful that you’ll make a full recovery.”

Wesley nodded his head, not bothering to verbally respond.

“We reached out to your emergency contact, Michele Ibis–” The name made his heart skip a beat. He’d forgotten she was still his In Case of Emergency contact. “but we were unable to reach her.”

Wesley’s blood ran cold, and he looked up at the woman so sharply that she looked momentarily taken aback. Was Michele okay? He went out of his way to avoid her at school, and even though he hadn’t seen her at the dance, that didn’t mean she wasn’t there. What if she was hurt? What if she was–

“Is there anyone else you’d like us to contact? A family member, perhaps?”

Trying to control the growing panic in his chest — she probably just ignored the call. Who could blame her, really? — Wesley shook his head. “No… No, no one.”

The nurse nodded her head in what looked like understanding, and Wesley almost laughed aloud. Understanding, as if anyone out there could give him that.

“Are you currently prescribed any medication? Or do you have any allergies to medication?”

Wesley shook his head.

“Okay,” the nurse said, pausing to write something on his chart, “then we’ll be prescribing you Vicodin. It’s a strong opioid, so it should under no circumstances be taken in excess. Only take one to two pills, with at least six hours in between, when you feel in pain. You should not consume alcohol while taking Vicodin, as it can be dangerous and lead to substance overdose. Do you understand?”

Wesley nodded his head.

“Good. We’d like to keep you overnight, just to monitor everything, but you’re free to go when you wake up tomorrow morning.”

June 5th, 3:31pm

No one told Wesley that hospitals were boring. He’d never been in one before, at least not that he could recall. Other than the occasional cold, his health was relatively good, as was his father’s. So now, being stuck in an uncomfortable bed with nothing but a television with limited channels to keep him occupied, he was coming to realize how dull the place could be. He flipped aimlessly through the channels, not particularly paying attention to what was on. He’d told hospital staff earlier about Salem, and had thankfully been notified that she was unharmed and being taken care of until he would be released tomorrow. The relief he felt was a major one, but there were still many other anxieties that weighed on his heart and made it impossible to focus on anything.

He heard the door to his room open with a creak, and he turned his attention from the television to the visitor. He assumed it would be a nurse coming to check on him, but instead he saw a blessedly familiar face. Even though he’d seen Rylie during the ordeal, it was nice to see her outside of the ballroom and alive. There was some expression on her face, some flicker of emotion in her eyes that he simply couldn’t read. Worry for him, perhaps? Or worry for Salem? The latter was probably more likely.

“Hey,” she began. He couldn’t help but wonder why she wasn’t getting her own treatment. He decided not to ask. “…How do you feel?”

It was the same question that he’d replied rudely to in the ballroom, the same one that nurses and doctors have been asking him all afternoon. “A bit sore, but better. I think I have the pain medication to thank for that.”

He vaguely registered the buzz of electronic sounding words coming from the television. It seemed like the afternoon news was starting. He paid it no mind, more focused on the strange, uncomfortable silence that settled between them; it almost like there was something hanging in the air, waiting to be said. Was she nervous about Salem’s well-being? Scared to ask? Whatever it was, he didn’t like the silence, so he decided to break it.

“Salem is okay. I had hospital staff send someone to my dorm to check on her. She’s being examined at the pet hospital just in case, but they said she looked unharmed and would be held there until I can pick her up when I’m released.”

Some bit of tension in Rylie’s shoulders seemed to relax, but she still looked tightly wound, like she was putting effort into holding herself together. That effort seemed to be cracking by the second, and Wesley could catch glimpses of pained emotions in her expression. “Wesley…” she began, cutting herself off as her voice seemed to crack.

His heartbeat ticked up. He could tell because the heart monitor he was attached to beeped a bit faster. Was something the matter? Did something happen to Bailey? She couldn’t be hurt too badly…right? She was too kind; the universe couldn’t possibly be that cruel. “If you have something to say, Rylie, just say it.”

The local news reporter interrupted their silence.

“Updates from local authorities say that the severe earthquake that shook local Walt Disney Academy took the lives of eight students and severely injured many more…”

Wesley’s attention was drawn to the television. People died in that earthquake? He’d been incapacitated for the whole thing and hadn’t been able to see the full damage. His heart rate sped up again.

“Wesley–” Rylie tried to interrupt, seemingly having found her voice again. However, he needed to know what the news was going to say.

“Shut up,” he barked — more harshly than intended — reaching for the remote to turn up the volume.

“One of them, Princess of the Great Forest, Bailey Forrester, is currently in a medically-induced coma at local Doc McStuffins Hospital. The status of other severely injured students is unknown, as many of them are still receiving medical treatment.. Police say that, upon freeing the trapped students from the ballroom, eight of them were pronounced dead on arrival: Zephyr de Chateaupers, Michele Ibis–”

Wesley’s world went dark. The words of the news reporter were drowned out by the ringing in his ears.

Bailey Forrester, coma.

Michele Ibis, dead.

Dead. Dead. Dead. The word repeated in his mind like some sadistic mantra, drowning out all coherent thought.

He felt as though he was free-falling, tumbling down, down, down, through a bottomless void filled with nothing but endless darkness. His heart throbbed in his chest, a pain far more intense than anything he’d felt within the last 24-hours. He’d watched his father once shoot a man in the chest, but he could imagine this pain was equal to that. It was just as deadly, just as soul-crushing. His whole body seemed to ache, seemed to scream in an indescribable agony that threatened to consume every single flicker of hope and light that he’d carefully preserved deep in his heart.

His senses returned to him in a rush, and he mentally registered a sorrowful, enraged, otherworldly screaming. It sounded like the wailing of millions of lost souls, all of them crying out for help, for vengeance, in pain. Their voices called out as one, stitched together by a single force: Wesley. He didn’t realize it was him that was screaming, didn’t realize that his powers had reawakened in an explosive, tortured burst of energy, fueled by his overwhelming grief, self-hatred, rage, misery, hopelessness, despair… He didn’t realize that his scream shattered the glass in his hospital room, made ice cover every surface he touched, didn’t realize that Rylie was shouting something at him, trying to reach his sorrow-filled mind, didn’t realize that the hospital staff were rushing into the room, yelling at one another to sedate him, didn’t feel the needle puncture the skin of his arm.

Only when his energy began to swiftly fade did he realize the destruction that he’d caused, did he feel the tears streaming down his face. Only then did he see the terrified and concerned faces of the hospital staff, only then did he see Rylie speaking to one of them, explaining what had happened.

He heard the steady beeping of his heart monitor. Someone should make it stop.

In those last moments of consciousness, before his mind faded to a cold and ruthless darkness, a single thought shattered through his heart like the bullet that pierced the chest of the man his father killed:

“I wish it was me. I wish I was dead.”

#tw death #tw gore #tw injury #tw depression #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw grief #tw surgery #tw mentions of murder #self para #❛❛ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ sᴇᴇ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ sɪᴅᴇ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ sʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪғ ɪ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ — ( para )#❛❛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴘɪᴄᴋᴇᴛ ғᴇɴᴄᴇ — ( michele )#rylie #shoutout to vina for letting me control rylie for this #she's the best

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brightlotusmoon · 8 years ago

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Sneak Peek, “The Spirit Within” #2

So, @lacrymosa99 had joyfully requested that I expand my TMNT 2012 Season 5 headcanon of “Leo and Mikey become Spiritual Intuition Bros, discover their powers together, have loads of fun, and hang out with Ghost Dad Splinter and become like psychic mediums for the family and Unfairly Departed Rat Dad, with hilarious results.” And I was all excited and got to work, because that does make for a really good story with tons of character development. I posted some of the start a few days back. Now I decided to post some more. Except it is still in the Angsty-Fluff stage, not the Sweet-Fluff stage or the Silly-Fluff. The boys gotta practice! And there are side effects! And Leo has no freaking clue what he’s doing! And Mikey may have all that raw talent but he needs discipline and commitment! And Donnie has a new toy! And I am actually learning to write Leo better because of this, I can totally sympathize with him for the first time without muttering “Wonder Boy” under my breath. Turns out, using Mikey as the focal point lets me dive into the turtle’s heads easily, as long as they care about Mikey, I can work with them like whoa. I shall also tag @jumpybox and @mysillylittlesoapbox because there was interest expressed, and Angel123, who doesn’t have a Tumblr. Not gonna apologize for repeated themes, because you should know me by now. This story, which when finished will become part two of The Sunshine Child series, is Canon Divergent. I shall be following the show for the most part, but these stories are meant to be supplemental and take place in that mysterious time lapse between episodes that Ciro loves to gloss over. Who knows what happens offscreen? They don’t really tell us. This is actually a good thing for us writers, because we can write little things that could or should happen in the show but obviously won’t. I am rambling. All right. Lacrymosa, I hope you like where this is going. I mean, you can totally ask for it to change, I give you permission since you made the request. But I have Plans and Plots, sooo. Yeah.

He waited a few days before testing his unspoken theory; he didn’t want to spook his brothers, But it was time now.

Leonardo settled himself before the dojo tree, calling up this new spiritual power like the flow of a river. He sensed Michelangelo kneeling beside him, and that rush of spiritual power from his baby brother was like a burst of oxygen, blooming life and warmth and sunlight. He reminded himself to not feel envy or jealousy. It was just Mikey.

Mikey spoke in a whisper, but to Leo it was a shout. “It’s like my whole brain just expanded and I feel everything.”

Leo frowned. That wasn’t quite his experience; his spiritual feelers were more refined and detailed, seeking out information. Mikey’s seemed more like a solid mist spreading everywhere, eager and childlike in curiosity. How deeply could Mikey sense things? Has Sensei known all this time? Should Leo have known? Why hadn’t Sensei prepared him for something like this?

Sighing, Leo bit his lip, huffed, and concentrated again. His aura rose around him, streamlined and steady, taut and waiting, patient and quiet. It hummed comfortingly.

And then that flowing sunset orange mist nudged it, carefully wrapping around the edges of Leo’s energy, prodding so gently, trying to find a way to ask politely. Leo reminded himself to relax completely. Mikey had an insatiably curious nature, naturally his spiritual energy would be the same. But Master Splinter had never mentioned auras being able to expand so rapidly outside their own boundaries.

“Mikey,” he hissed. “Quit poking me.”

“M’not,” Mikey hissed back. “It’s doing that by itself.”

“What, you can’t control it?” Leo jerked back in horror, his eyes snapped open, his head whipping to the side.

Michelangelo slowly opened his eyes and turned to smile at Leo. It was a kind, gentle smile, easy and delicate. Something in his eyes…his pupils were dilated and the strips of summer blue were glittering. “I never said that,” and Mikey’s voice was different, soft and sweet like a kitten’s purr. Leo blinked, and sunset color surrounded Mikey, tapping and bouncing against his skin like waves. Around his head, the aura looked like a radiating star, like a solar eclipse with Mikey’s head as the moon. Mikey opened his mouth in a grin, and the color was there too, puffing like vapor from his mouth.

“Leo,” the colors said, “Don’t worry. It’s all good. Everything is awesome.”

Leo watched as Mikey’s aura only brightened and widened, spilling out into the dojo, colliding with the tree and lighting it up with colors he had only seen in outer space. He couldn’t breathe. He pressed both hands to his chest. It was too much. As Leo felt himself slide sideways, he saw a white core of power, ringed in summer blue, the color of his brother’s eyes.

. . . .

“…eo? Leo, I’m sorry. You gotta wake up. Can you hear me? Please, big brother, we need you!”

It was Mikey’s voice, but it was Mikey as a child, tormented by endless nightmares, scrabbling to cling to Leonardo’s plastron in tears, and Leo would automatically embrace him tightly, so tightly, and murmur, “Shh, little brother. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll always keep you safe.”

“Guys, did you hear that? He said something!”

“Are you sure, Mikey? He hasn’t even moved in six hours.”

“Donnie, I swear, he said something! Leo, say it again? Leo! Leo, please! Wake up, wake up!”

“Mikey, don’t shake him! Quit it, ya shellhead. What did you do again?”

“Stop it, Raph, I didn’t do anything, I swear! No! Lemme go! Leo!”

“Ow! Mikey! Stop hitting me!”

“Raph, ease up. Maybe Mikey can connect with him. They were meditating with their new spiritual intuitions, after all.”

“It’s been six hours, Don. Ya think something would’ve, y’know, happened?”

“M-maybe he’s lost. In the colors.”

“Mikey, you’re making less sense than usual.”

There was blackness, then whiteness, then a rush of colors like a rainbow erupting. His own dark gray-blue, Mikey’s amber orange, Donnie’s soft violet purple, Raph’s deep crimson red. They danced around each other frenetically, and the orange fringed them all, mist flowing like water and air, curling in a strange attempt to calm them.

“Leo, I had a bad dream, there was a big monster with teeth and he hurt Papa and then he tried to hurt you, and I couldn’t find Raphie or Donnie, and I was alone and no one could help…”

“Mikey, it wasn’t real, you know that. Dreams aren’t real. They’re all in your mind. Your mind wants to scare you so you can learn to be brave.” Those lamp-like eyes shone at him. “You’re already brave. I bet you don’t have nightmares.”

He smiled. “Of course I do Mikey. I have nightmares about losing all of you. But then I remember that I will wake up and you’ll all be here.”

The hug got tighter. “I’ll always be here, Leo. Promise you will be too?”

“I promise, Mikey…promise…s’okay…it’s okay…”

“LEO!” The shout was full of amber orange and he flinched. He felt something – someone – close to his head.

“Leo? Can you hear me?”

He groaned, his entire body feeling weighed down. “D-Don?”

“Oh, thank science. Can you open your eyes?”

“Nnngghh…” He pried his eyelids open and his vision was filled with russet eyes framed in purple. He decided to try breathing, and was grateful when oxygen filled his lungs. “Donnie. Mikey? What happened?”

“Leeoo!” And then Mikey’s freckled face was all he could see as Donnie was shoved aside with a grunt. “Leo, what happened? What did you see? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do whatever I did. It just went everywhere. I couldn’t figure out how to pull it back. I think I exploded you! I’m so so sor--”

“Mikey, Mikey…” As he struggled on his elbows, Leo realized he was lying on a mattress, still in the dojo, his head on a pillow. There was equipment lying around him. His head was pounding. He took several deep gulps of air and rolled his head, neck, shoulders. Everything seemed to be all right. He was just wrung out. Donnie was holding up a tablet-like device pointed at Leo.

“What is that, Don?”

“Hm? Oh, something Dr. Rockwell built for me. It scans the body and the brain like a CT scan. Neat, huh? Anyway, you’re completely fine, except you went into a near coma for six hours, and your brain activity was wild.”

“When did Rockwell build that?”

Don waved a hand. “I dunno, a week ago. I hadn’t gotten a chance to use it on anyone but myself. It uses Kraang tech to pinpoint accuracy, so I can tell if there’s internal damage, brain injury…plus, it helps keep track of April’s psionic powers. I figured I could track these new abilities you and Mikey have been displaying.”

“Don, can you look at me while you’re talking?”

“Sorry.” Donatello, glanced up from the screen, frowning. “Does anything hurt? Do you think you can stand up?”

Leo rubbed his head. “I’d love something for this migraine. Raph, help me up.”

Standing was much better than he had expected. Raph held onto him like he expected Leo to fall, but Leo squared his shoulders, cracked his neck, and sighed. Ugh, Sensei had not prepared him for this. “That feels better. Now. Mikey…”

And when he looked next to Donnie, he realized that Mikey had taken a few steps back and was trembling, head down, hands twisting.

“Mikey, wait. Hey. It’s okay. I’m fine.” Leo spread his arms, spun easily on one foot, grinned widely. But his littlest brother stayed, and the shaking increased, until there were tears at the corners of his eyes and tiny whimpers in the back of his throat.

Raphael ran to his side, throwing an arm around him, green eyes wide and alarmed. “Mikey, what’s the matter with you? Don’t tell me you’re gonna pass out too!”

But Mikey could only shake his head back and forth, and his breathing became harsh, and Raph was now embracing him completely, staring at Leo and Donnie in utter frustration and worry. “Donnie, use that thingy, quick! Make him stop!”

As Don scanned the freckled turtle, small beeps came from the tablet and Don jumped back, frowning. “Wait, I don’t get…hang on…there’s a massive energy fluctuation! Can you hold him still? I need to bring this closer to his head…”

Leo began to feel the rush of his spiritual energy flow and expand, and this time it felt insistent, impatient, searching. All he could do was hang on and watch as his aura moved toward Mikey’s aura, which responded by widening and enfolding Leo’s own. Leo gawped, watching the colors curl and wrap around each other. But then, dark spots began to appear in Mikey’s orange, and Leo suddenly felt chilled. His blue appeared to be trying to cover the spots.

Donnie was tapping furiously on the screen. “It’s like an electric storm. It looks like his neurons are rapidly misfiring.”

“English, please!” Raph snarled.

“I think he’s having some sort of seizure!” Don yelled. And then Mikey let out a strangled scream and slumped bonelessly in Raph’s arms.

Leo’s scream was just as strangled.

Sensei hadn’t prepared him for this!

#fanfiction #headcanon #tmnt 2012 #tmnt2012 #mikey #leo #the sunshine child series #spiritual leo #spiritual mikey #spiritual bros #splinter #rat dad #ghost splinter #look i wrote a fic #fic request #this is fun #canon divergence #empath mikey #i actually like leo now

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dinafbrownil · 5 years ago

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Analysis: In Medical Billing, Fraudulent Charges Weirdly Pass As Legal

Much of what we accept as legal in medical billing would be regarded as fraud in any other sector.

I have been circling around this conclusion for the past five years, as I’ve listened to patients’ stories while covering health care as a journalist and author. Now, after a summer of firsthand experience — my husband was in a bike crash in July — it’s time to call out this fact head-on. Many of the Democratic candidates are talking about practical fixes for our high-priced health care system, and some legislated or regulated solutions to the maddening world of medical billing would be welcome.

My husband, Andrej, flew over his bicycle’s handlebars when he hit a pothole at high speed on a Sunday ride in Washington. He was unconscious and lying on the pavement when I caught up with him minutes later. The result: six broken ribs, a collapsed lung, a broken finger, a broken collarbone and a broken shoulder blade.

The treatment he got via paramedics and in the emergency room and intensive care unit were great. The troubles began, as I knew they would, when the bills started arriving.

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I will not even complain here about some of the crazy-high charges: $182 for a basic blood test, $9,289 for two days in a room in intensive care, $20 for a pill that costs pennies at a pharmacy. We have great insurance, which negotiates these rates down. And at least Andrej got and benefited from those services.

What I’m talking about here were the bills for things that simply didn’t happen, or only kind-of, sort-of happened, or were mislabeled as things they were not or were so nebulously defined that I couldn’t figure out what we might be paying for.

To be clear, many of the charges that I would call fraudulent — maybe all of them — are technically legal (thanks sometimes to lobbying by providers), but that doesn’t make them right. And no one would accept them if they appeared on bills delivered by a contractor, or a lawyer or an auto mechanic. There were so many of these charges that I came up with categories to keep track of them:

1. Medical Swag

In the trauma bay, someone slapped a hard brace around Andrej’s neck until scans confirmed that he had not suffered a grievous spinal injury. It was removed within an hour.

The medical equipment company that provided that piece of plastic billed $319. Our insurer paid $215 (90% of its discounted rate of $239). We were billed $24, our “patient responsibility.”

Companies are permitted by insurers to bill for “durable medical equipment,” stuff you receive for home use when you’re in the hospital or a doctor’s office. That yields some familiar marked-up charges, like the sling you can buy at Walgreens for $15 but for which you or your insurer get a bill for $120 after it is given to you at urgent care. The policy has also led to widespread abuse, with patients sent home with equipment they don’t need: My mom’s apartment, for example, holds an unused wheelchair, a walker and a commode paid for by Medicare, by which I mean our tax dollars. It’s as if you were given a swag bag at a conference and then sent a bill for hundreds or thousands of dollars.

At least with swag, you get to keep it. My husband’s hardly worn neck brace didn’t even come home with us as a souvenir.

2. The Cover Charge

The biggest single item on Andrej’s ER bill was a $7,143.99 trauma activation fee. What was that for, since every component of his care had been billed and billed handsomely?

Among the line items: $3,400 for a high-level emergency room visit. $1,030 for the trauma surgeon. Between $1,400 and $3,300 for five purported CT scans. And I say “purported” because one trip into a scanner examined the head, upper spine and maxillofacial bones but was billed as three separate things. There was also an administration fee of more than $350 each for four injections.

Trauma activation fees have been allowed since 2002, after 9/11, when the Trauma Center Association of America, an industry group, convinced regulators that they needed to be compensated for maintaining a state of “readiness.”

Wait. Isn’t the purpose of an ER to be “ready”? Isn’t that why the doctors’ services and scans are billed at higher rates when they are performed in an emergency department?

Despite scrutiny from researchers about whether trauma fees are deserved, trauma activation fees have only grown in size, 15% annually in recent years, and can reach into the tens of thousands of dollars. (On average, Medicare pays a fee of about $1,000.) Some have likened trauma activation fees to a cover charge for being wheeled into an ER with major trauma. But does a cover charge typically cost more than the meal?

3. Impostor Billing

We received bills from doctors my husband never met. Some of these bills were understandable, like for the radiologist who read the scans. But others were for bedside treatment from people who never came anywhere near the bed to deliver the care.

Andrej had a small finger fracture with a cut that needed some stitches, which a resident, a surgeon-in-training, sutured. But the $1,512 billed came in the name of a senior surgeon, as if he had done the work.

Physicians and many other health professionals are allowed to bill for the work of “extenders” — stand-ins with less training who see patients and work under the supervising doctor. These might be residents, physician assistants or nurse anesthetists, for example. For billing purposes, this allows the senior providers to be in two, three, sometimes more than half a dozen places at once, often even when they are physically miles away.

The resident did a fine job on my husband. But if an assistant did the work, shouldn’t it be billed for less? At law firms, the hourly rates for paralegals and junior attorneys are lower than those for partners.

On a website called Clinical Advisor, a reimbursement expert himself seemed to wonder at the profession’s luck that such billing is tolerated: “I hear people ask, ‘How can I do that? The doctor never saw the patient, never had any interaction with the patient and yet I can still bill this service under the physician?’”

4. The Drive-By

The day before Andrej left the hospital, a physical therapist visited and asked a few questions. From that brief encounter, the therapist noted “ambulation deficits, balance deficits, endurance deficits, pain-limiting function, transfer deficits.” That translated into a bill of $646.15 for what was recorded as a P.T. evaluation “1st session only (billable).” He said he was there for 30 minutes, but he was not. He said he walked Andrej up 10 steps with a stabilizing belt for assistance. He did not. There was no significant health service given. Just an appearance and some boxes checked on a form. It’s a phenomenon called drive-by doctoring.

More shockingly, the drive-bys continued at our home, presaged by a call on Andrej’s cellphone a day after he was discharged. A physical therapist from a private company wanted to visit him for at-home therapy. In his discharge instructions, no one had mentioned this service, and his injury was clearly too fresh to benefit. She came. She didn’t know which body part had been injured and concluded he was in too much pain to participate.

The same company called twice more the following week to schedule visits. By the third time, I told Andrej not to open the front door. Nonetheless, our insurer was billed — and paid — for three visits.

It’s as if Alexa noticed that my dishwasher makes too much noise (it does) and took it upon herself to send over a repair guy. But if I turned him away at the front door, saying I’m OK with the racket (I am), would I still be billed for the visit?

5. The Enforced Upgrade

One Monday when Andrej was in pain and out of pills, the trauma doctor suggested we meet in the emergency room, because the trauma clinic was open only from 8 to 10:45 a.m. on Wednesdays and Thursdays.

So we met the trauma doctors in the ER, and they talked to Andrej, who remained in his street clothes. They gave him a prescription. Because the interaction — which could have happened in the lobby — happened in the ER, it resulted in an ER visit charge of $1,330. But when the trauma clinic is open less than six hours a week, billing for an ER visit that doesn’t tap into any of the emergency room resources feels like a scam. Is an ER visit determined by the content of the services rendered, or merely by the location?

Andrej had a similar experience when his broken finger was treated with a plastic splint that folded over his fingertip. He complained because the upper layer pressed on the fracture. At a follow-up visit, someone took a pair of scissors and cut off the upper half of the splint and taped the lower half back in place. That translated into a $481 charge for “surgery,” in addition to the $375 charge for the office visit and a $103 facility fee. Doesn’t surgery, by definition, involve cutting into flesh or an animate object — not a piece of plastic?

Sure, it sounds fancy to upgrade a meeting to an ER visit, or to call the tweaking of a splint “surgery,” but if an airline overbooks my flight and puts me on another flight where the only seat available is in first class, it does not charge me for the more expensive ticket.

My insurer paid for most of these questionable charges, though at discounted rates. But even a discounted payment for something that never really happened or didn’t need to happen or that we didn’t agree to have happen is still, according to common sense, a fraud.

Why do insurers pay? Partly because insurers have no way to know whether you got a particular item or service. But also because it’s not worth their time to investigate the millions of medical interactions they write checks for each day. Despite the advertised concern about your well-being, as one benefits manager enlightened me: They’re “too big to care about you.” Electronic records, which auto-fill billing boxes, have probably made things worse. For example, the birth of a baby boy may automatically prompt a bill for a circumcision; having day surgery may prompt a check for sedation.

So what is the appropriate payment for swag I didn’t ask for, outrageous cover charges, stand-in doctors, drive-by visits and faux surgery? In some cases, zero; in others, far less than was paid. And yet, these are all everyday, normal experiences in today’s health care system, and they may be perfectly legal. If we want to tame the costs in our $3 trillion health system, we’ve got to rein in this behavior, which is fraud by any other name.

from Updates By Dina https://khn.org/news/analysis-in-medical-billing-fraudulent-charges-weirdly-pass-as-legal/

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