Ocala Is Calling
Med' me up doc!
The sour smell of hospitals had always been extremely unappealing, and even some what disturbing to me. I hadn't been admitted to the hospital since I was born, never having any serious injuries or diseases had prevented me from becoming familiar with the medical atmosphere, and in all honesty it was frightening. My thoughts fell, and I brought myself back to reality.
Gavin's arm subtly snaked towards me his hands shockingly cold, he gracefully laced his fingers with mine, and nodded as the old-aged, frosty-haired doctor spoke to him.
His wrinkles transforming as he spoke, I found myself discovering pictures within the wrinkles of his skin. As he spoke the pictures animated, creating a story. The wrinkles formed a bunny, the bunny hopped as his lips formed the word "chemotherapy" and I was brought back from my self-humoring thoughts.
The fossilous aged doctor in front of us spoke, and I listened intently, taking in all of the valuable information I could,
"Y'know, most people fear chemo because they've heard it has uncomfortable side effects, but side-effect management has come a long way in the past few decades, most of them can be prevented or controlled."
Gavin simply nodded, and I squeezed his hand for moral support. He squeezed back, harder than I had, but not hard enough to hurt, just enough for reassurance.
"Chemotherapy may be your best option for a successful outcome."
I shuddered at the words, 'successful outcome.' What was this old man's idea of a successful outcome? Was it as hopeful as mine? That my boyfriend would go back to his carefree, bubbly self that I had come to know and love. What was an unsuccessful outcome? I shut my mind off at the thought, and brought my self back to the discussion.
"Okay, so what really is Chemo?" Gavin questioned. "I mean, I really don't know anything other than that it's like, radiation?"
"Chemo is the general term for any treatment involving the use of chemicals to stop cancer cells from growing," the doctor replied. "More than half of the patients diagnosed with cancer receive chemo."
"Okay, great." Gavin chimed, "So let's get this puppy goin'. Med' me up doc."
The doctor chuckled. "Mr. Brighfield, we'll develop a chemo regimen for you. A regimen is basically a treatment plan and schedule. To get the most from your medication it's important to stick to a schedule of treatment."
"Alright, Alright. How does Chemotherapy work?" Gavin asked, adding air quotes around "Chemotherapy"
"Well, what it essentially does is destroy cancer cells. Unfortunately, it cannot tell the difference between a cancer cell and some healthy cells. What this means is that Chemo not only eliminates fast-growing cancer cells, but also other cells that grow at fast paces in your body. Those being hair, and blood cells." He lectured.
Gavin grasped his hair with both hands, and looked the doctor in the eyes, seriously.
"More than likely" The doctor replied, implying the probable loss of Gavin's hair due to the treatments.
"What other risks?" Gavin asked, concerned.
"Well, large increments of time away from family and friends, uncomfortable side-effects, long-term complications.. the treatments may become inconvient, prolonged, or unavailable close to home. With these treatments, we can expect low platelet, white, and red blood cell counts, nausea, vomiting, hair loss as i said before, and fatigue." he answered.
"One of the worst possible outcomes would be an extremely low white blood cell count, they fight infections, and without those your therapy schedule will be interrupted, and may require hospitalization. Low white blood cells can be potentially life-threatening." the doctor added.
I felt the perspiration begin to from between our hands, and I couldn't tell whether it was mine, or Gavin's.
After another half hour or so, the conversation ended and Gavin, the doctor and I rose to shake hands before exiting and getting into Gavin's car.
The car ride home was almost completely silent, until I asked,
"Gavin, are you scared?" with sincere concern.
He looked at me momentarily before averting his eyes to the road again, he let out a deep breath, and removed one hand from the steering wheel to run it through it thick brown hair.
"Honestly Ronni?" he said quietly, "I'm fucking terrified."
Gavin's arm subtly snaked towards me his hands shockingly cold, he gracefully laced his fingers with mine, and nodded as the old-aged, frosty-haired doctor spoke to him.
His wrinkles transforming as he spoke, I found myself discovering pictures within the wrinkles of his skin. As he spoke the pictures animated, creating a story. The wrinkles formed a bunny, the bunny hopped as his lips formed the word "chemotherapy" and I was brought back from my self-humoring thoughts.
The fossilous aged doctor in front of us spoke, and I listened intently, taking in all of the valuable information I could,
"Y'know, most people fear chemo because they've heard it has uncomfortable side effects, but side-effect management has come a long way in the past few decades, most of them can be prevented or controlled."
Gavin simply nodded, and I squeezed his hand for moral support. He squeezed back, harder than I had, but not hard enough to hurt, just enough for reassurance.
"Chemotherapy may be your best option for a successful outcome."
I shuddered at the words, 'successful outcome.' What was this old man's idea of a successful outcome? Was it as hopeful as mine? That my boyfriend would go back to his carefree, bubbly self that I had come to know and love. What was an unsuccessful outcome? I shut my mind off at the thought, and brought my self back to the discussion.
"Okay, so what really is Chemo?" Gavin questioned. "I mean, I really don't know anything other than that it's like, radiation?"
"Chemo is the general term for any treatment involving the use of chemicals to stop cancer cells from growing," the doctor replied. "More than half of the patients diagnosed with cancer receive chemo."
"Okay, great." Gavin chimed, "So let's get this puppy goin'. Med' me up doc."
The doctor chuckled. "Mr. Brighfield, we'll develop a chemo regimen for you. A regimen is basically a treatment plan and schedule. To get the most from your medication it's important to stick to a schedule of treatment."
"Alright, Alright. How does Chemotherapy work?" Gavin asked, adding air quotes around "Chemotherapy"
"Well, what it essentially does is destroy cancer cells. Unfortunately, it cannot tell the difference between a cancer cell and some healthy cells. What this means is that Chemo not only eliminates fast-growing cancer cells, but also other cells that grow at fast paces in your body. Those being hair, and blood cells." He lectured.
Gavin grasped his hair with both hands, and looked the doctor in the eyes, seriously.
"More than likely" The doctor replied, implying the probable loss of Gavin's hair due to the treatments.
"What other risks?" Gavin asked, concerned.
"Well, large increments of time away from family and friends, uncomfortable side-effects, long-term complications.. the treatments may become inconvient, prolonged, or unavailable close to home. With these treatments, we can expect low platelet, white, and red blood cell counts, nausea, vomiting, hair loss as i said before, and fatigue." he answered.
"One of the worst possible outcomes would be an extremely low white blood cell count, they fight infections, and without those your therapy schedule will be interrupted, and may require hospitalization. Low white blood cells can be potentially life-threatening." the doctor added.
I felt the perspiration begin to from between our hands, and I couldn't tell whether it was mine, or Gavin's.
After another half hour or so, the conversation ended and Gavin, the doctor and I rose to shake hands before exiting and getting into Gavin's car.
The car ride home was almost completely silent, until I asked,
"Gavin, are you scared?" with sincere concern.
He looked at me momentarily before averting his eyes to the road again, he let out a deep breath, and removed one hand from the steering wheel to run it through it thick brown hair.
"Honestly Ronni?" he said quietly, "I'm fucking terrified."