Turning A Page

"What was that?" Looks like Zacky did hear me after all.

Great, now do I pretend it was nothing, or tell him what I actually said and have to explain everything. I could already feel his gaze on me hardening, waiting for my answer, while I picked at a piece of lint on the duvet cover. Looking up at him I could see he was unsure.

"I said I wish you'd both quit." My voice was still quiet, but the way his eyes softened showed that he'd understood me.

"Smoking? Or talking to each other?" he joked, earning a small smile.

"What do you think? Smoking you idiot." I poked my tongue out at him while playfully pushing him to the mattress. Our hands still linked, he pulled me down on top of him. My head against his chest, I could hear his heart beating as he laughed.

"What's wrong with smoking?" Was this man completely clueless? Maybe it really is true that it's either brains or looks.

The look I gave him as I pulled away quickly stopped his laughter. "Hello, lung cancer anyone? It really isn't as fun as people seem to think it is. Then there's the stench of stale smoke and it's really not so great kissing you after you smoke."

Zacky looked like he didn't quite know how to take my tirade. I guess it is a bit of a heavy topic for pre-sleep conversations, but oh well. You get that sometimes. It probably didn't help that smoking was one of my pet peeves. It looked like he was searching through his brain for some relevant piece of information. "So when Johnny was right there for Brompton Cocktail..." he trailed off, unsure of his thoughts.

I nodded as I proceeded to tell him about my grandparents. How my Granma had suffered because of lung cancer, how my other grandmother had been a constant smoker even though she had chronic asthma and emphysema. She was so bad she had her own ventilator in case of an attack and used it regularly. Finally I ended with my Grandad's cancer battle. He'd had Myeloma, a cancer of the plasma cells that has only a three percent survival rate. He was in constant pain because of the bone lesions that occur in Multiple Myeloma. Treatment was radiation therapy and regular blood transfusions, plus a lot of pills that really did nothing except keep him alive a little bit longer. At one point he was prescribed morphine and it seemed to help dull his pain until he was taken off it and put on pseudoephedrine because the doctors didn't want him addicted or overdosing.

That right there is probably what annoys me most about the health systems. He was a dying man, in his seventies, and instead of letting him live out his final days in a somewhat less painful existence they decided to make him suffer more.

Anyway, I've done more than enough ranting about that. Zacky was once again shocked by the words flowing from my mouth. He was probably wishing he'd never mentioned anything, but he seemed to be at least a little affected by the stories.

"So yea, I'm not a fan of smoking or cancer. I figure I've already got a big enough chance of developing cancer without encouraging it," I ended from where I had been pulled into Zacky's chest once again as his hand stroked up and down my back. A few tears had escaped, but were quickly soaked up by the material between us.

"Wow, I really can't blame you. You've really been through a lot, haven't you Princess?"

That was a fair comment, but like they say - what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger. "Yea. It was hard, but I had Johnny to keep me sane. You don't wanna know what could've happened without him being there for me. But thats enough depressing stuff. Do you have any idea how comfortable you are?" I laughed, snuggling my head against his chest to prove my point.

Zacky laughed too, lifting my head so he could lean down to kiss me softly. "Do you have any idea how much I like kissing you?"