One Heart

Nathalie’s POV

After the doctor's spoken concern for my health Val refused to let me do basically anything in the house anymore- I couldn't even go and get my own drink without her coming in and scolding me for it, saying I should be resting. Of course I did ask how getting a drink could be more hazardous than waiting on my ass for the bedsores to come because of my lack of movement, which she had no reply for. Needless to say after that, I had gained minimal freedom.

“When do they get the results of your blood test?” Val asked over her shoulder to me while she was washing the dishes. “It's been like a week now.”

I shrugged. “They must take loads of blood tests-”

I was cut off when the phone rang, which Val eyed with worry as she did every time someone called, just in case it was the clinic.

Pushing the call button, I answered, “Hello?”

“Is this Miss Taylor?”

I sighed. I recognised the voice as it being a certain blood-stealer from the clinic. “Yep, that's me.”

“I'd like you to come and see me at the clinic if you have the time.”

“My results have come back?”

“Yes, I have them here.”

“Is there any time I should come by to pick them up?”

“I've cancelled all my appointments for today, so come down at any time.”

Well that didn't sound good.

“Okay, thank you.” I ended the call and replaced the phone with little expression; knowing for a fact that Val would be analysing my every movement. “They've asked me to go pick up my results. Will you be alright to stay here with Jimmy and Rae for half an hour?”

Val bit her lip, her hands still in the gloves she wore when washing up. “Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?”

“Don't worry, I'll be fine,” I replied, picking up my keys from the side. “I'm a big girl now; no more need to depend on others.”

–

“I...I've got what?” My voice shook as I spoke, my mind unable to figure out what he was saying to me.

He looked at me with sad eyes, ones that had obviously had to break this kind of news to someone before. “The tests confirmed for T-cell prolymphocytic leukaemia. I'm sorry.”

The tremors spread from my voice to all over my body, not knowing what to do. Here I just thought I was going just to hear them say it must be a migraine or something and not to worry about it, but cancer? “But I'm only 26... Can’t you do anything?”

“There are some courses of action, but at the given time we are still researching a cure. At best, what we can do is hope to extend your time in hopes of remission with a course of drugs and chemotherapy. However this type of leukaemia is extremely rare-”

I cut him off. “So basically you can't do anything?”

“There are experimental drugs that may help with your condition and in some cases have increased the survival rate to almost five years.”

“But... but after the five years?”

He didn't answer.

I was only 26- I hadn't even reached 30... And what about Rae?“These drugs... do they have any side-effects?”

“You can expect to feel some with the introduction into your system. An example would be weakness, fatigue, back pain, bone pain and in some cases can cause allergic reactions headaches or fever. No treatment is without its consequences.”

“So basically I can either live a shorter life as normal, or for longer but with side-effects?” I replied, a hint of anger slipping into my voice. “What have I done to deserve this?”

Once again, he chose not to answer, but retorted with a question of his own. “Would you like me to call anyone for you? Any relatives of yours?”

“No.” I stared numbly down at my hands, my eyes drifting to the name of my daughter that I had tattooed on the inside of my wrist, decorated with a swirling design and stars. “My daughter and I are the last of my family.”

“Oh.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, obviously not expecting this. “Is there anyone nearby that can come to get you? Would you like me to call your friend who was with you before to come get you?”

I knew he was only trying to help, but I couldn't bear to have anyone upset over this. “No.”

“Miss. Taylor, I know this is a hard time for you, so I'm going to keep this short.”

“Shoot.”

“Due to the nature of your condition we will need to begin treatment right away, I can call the hospital and have you booked in for tomorrow-”

I raised my hand to make him stop, unable to allow him to go any further. I knew what I was going to do. “I don't want the treatment.”

He frowned. “But without treatment, your survival rate is drastically shortened.”

I raised my gaze from my hands, looking at him with a soft, tear-eyed smile. “I’d rather live out whatever time I have left as myself, then through drugged eyes. I may not get to see my daughter grow up, but I want to at least spend time with her as I can. As myself, without all those side-effects.”

“Are you sure?” He looked doubtful, obviously wanting to say something to change my mind but knew his profession disallowed it. “You could be sacrificing years, perhaps even a possible remission.”

“You said so yourself; this disease is incurable.”

“Yes, but in these next few years a new drug may become available for testing and might-”

I stopped him again. “I don't want to place all my hopes on a dream, Dr. Howes.” Pausing for a few moments, I then asked the question whose answer I was unsure of hearing. “Without treatment, how long can I expect to have?”

“I've been told the average survival rate is at seven and a half months, but some have gone longer.”

The smile dropped slightly as I realised what that meant. I would live long enough just to see my daughter age another year.I rose from the seat, Dr. Howes soon mimicking me as I extended a hand to him. “Thank you for telling me, I understand it cannot be easy to break news as this.”

“It is the downside to my job description,” he replied, taking my hand for a second or two before letting go to press something in my palm. “Here is both the clinic number and my home number, if you need anything then just give me a ring.”

Obviously, he had to try once more before I left, if not for my sake then at least for his. His tone was almost pleading. “Are you sure I cannot call anyone for you?”

I nodded. “I'm sure.”

–

It was only after I had driven home and parked within the drive that it finally hit home- I was going to die.

Soon.

The tears that had stayed away during the visit to the clinic were now freely flowing down my cheeks, my mind finally realising at what was going to happen in the future. In less than eight months my daughter will be without a mother, and since all my family had died when I was young, I couldn't bare for her to go through the same if I could help it. I knew the treatment could probably have given me a few more years, but knowing it was incurable meant that my death would be inevitable, whether it be in eight months or eight years. Plus during those years I wouldn't be able to do anything, just another victim to the drugs which are fuelling a less that lustrous life.

It was through this reasoning that I realised what I would have to do. Even though I had vowed never to bring him back into my life, it was now, four years later and in the wake of my death, that I realised I needed him now more than ever.

If Rae couldn't have me, then she will be with her father.