Spinning.

“So... cancer.” Andrew repeated, mostly to himself, as he sat across from me in my new hospital room at UCLA. Kelly sat next to him, her forehead creased with concern as she slid her hand into his, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

I nodded, unsure of what he wanted me to say. Breaking the news to Andrew and Kelly had been a lot easier than I thought. They both maintained their composure when I called them and asked them to drop by, making it easier for me to tell them what was going on. They were obviously shocked, but it was nice to know that they weren't going to burst into hysterics when I was struggling to make sense of my own emotions in regards to my circumstances. My parents and Michael were going to be here in a few hours, and I knew that breaking the news to them would be anything but easy.

Kelly cleared her throat, taking a deep breath before speaking. “Just know, if you need anything-- we'd be more than happy to help. I mean, your family isn't from around here, and we've been through it before...”

I forced a smile on my lips, thankful for their support, yet hesitant to ask for too much. Kelly and Andrew were expecting a baby, Kelly's baby bump just beginning to peak out from under her shirt. I didn't want to burden them with my illness, especially not when they were just beginning to prepare for their new life as parents.

“Thanks guys, I mean-- I don't know what I'm going to need from here, but I'll have John and Ava as well, so hopefully I won't have to bug you guys too much... I mean, with your baby and all, I don't want to impose.”

“Nonsense, don't worry about bugging us too much.” Kelly brushed me off, resting her hand on her slightly protruding stomach. “This little one won't mind if we make sure you're okay, after all we all know you're going to spoil the hell out of it, so it's not like this baby can complain.”

“Also, where is John?” Andrew inquired, looking around. “Haven't seen him in a while.”

“He went back to my apartment for a little bit to shower, drop our stuff off, and grab some stuff for me.” I shrugged, looking at the clock. “He should be back in a little bit.”

Andrew nodded. “We'll have to grab a beer and catch up sometime. I like that guy, he's good for you.”

I couldn't help but laugh. “You sound like my brother.”

“Well, I only want the best for my friends.” He chuckled, shrugging.

Kelly nodded with Andrew, smiling. “I agree, Ber. He's a keeper.”

“I'm glad you guys trust my taste in men.”

“Hey, is there a bathroom nearby?” Kelly asked, looking around.

“Umm, yeah.” I pointed to the bathroom that was attached to my room, the door wide open.

Letting out a chuckle, Kelly rolled her eyes. “Of course, I should have realized that.”

She stood up and ambled into the bathroom, the lock clicking as she shut the door behind her. It left Andrew and I on our own, eyes darting between each other and the rest of the room. I moved around, trying to find a more comfortable position on the bed before giving up, realizing that there was probably no way I was going to be comfortable in my bed anytime soon.

Andrew broke the silence, looking up at me. “This might sound weird, but have they talked to you about therapy and stuff?”

“Like, chemotherapy?” I asked, confused. “Yeah, we've talked plenty about that.”

“No,” he clarified, “I meant like, emotional therapy. A therapist. Have you talked about that at all?”

“Nah,” I shrugged, “It hadn't crossed my mind. Do you think it's necessary?”

“Well, I didn't have one,” Andrew shrugged, “But I did other things to deal with my own feelings about it.”

“Like?”

“Well, I journaled. But I think the really effective thing, surprisingly, was doing video diaries.”

“Wait, like the ones they used for Dear Jack?”

“Yeah...” he trailed off, his voice wavering. “Well, they didn't use a lot of the video diaries for that, but still. It was nice to be able to talk and not have to worry about a response, or offending anyone, or any of that. And it was incredibly powerful to see it all in retrospect.”

“Are you saying I should do that?”

“Just make sure you have something to deal with your feelings. I mean, yeah, you have an amazing support system here, but sometimes there are things that are best expressed to someone who doesn't know you like John or Ava or your family does. You know?” Andrew's expression darkened, his face growing more serious. “Cancer changes you, whether you want it to or not. It changes your life, it changes how you see things, and it changes how you handle everything. You may not be able to control the disease, but you can control how you fight it, and that's including the emotional side. Cancer isn't just a bunch of cells invading your body, if you're not careful it can invade your mind.”

I gave him a weary smile, which he returned. We lingered in the silence for a little longer, me pondering over his words from my perch on the bed, him playing with his hands from the stiff chair that came furnished with my room.

“I'm not gonna lie, I'm fucking terrified.” My voice was quiet, filled with uncertainty. And to be fair, I was uncertain about everything. I was uncertain about how treatments were going to go, how my future was going to be affected-- everything. I used to know what was going to happen in my future, my tour dates booked months in advance, my recording schedule set for the next two years, but then when I got sick suddenly everything changed. It was scary to admit that I wasn't going to be doing the things that had become daily routine to me, waking up in new cities and meeting fans, even being interviewed and photographed constantly. Even the things that I despised about my own life, I would have taken those over sitting where I was in this very moment.

“You have every right to be.” Andrew's eyes met mine with a sullen expression, his lips pressed into a thin line. “It's terrifying.”

It was refreshing to hear that come from someone else, especially someone who had been in my position before. Even just a few days after my diagnosis, I had been bombarded by so much “You're strong, you can do this!” and “Everything will be just fine, don't worry about it,” that I felt as though I had lost my own voice within the chaos of my situation, no one bothering to think that maybe their well-meaning attempts at calming my nerves were instead making me freak out about the severity of the situation. Surprisingly, Andrew's agreement was more comforting than the encouragement that I had been receiving prior to now.

My thoughts were broken by Kelly's return from the bathroom, returning a small smile to my face as she returned to her seat next to Andrew.

“I have to say, the worst thing about being pregnant so far is that now that the baby's starting to really grow, I have to pee a lot more. It's not fair.” She mockingly groaned, feigning distress.

Andrew and I both chuckled, shaking our heads. “Glad I don't have to be pregnant, or we wouldn't be having kids.” He commented, giving Kelly a mischievous smirk.

“Oh don't worry, your hard work will come after this bugger is born and you've got to stay up all night because it won't go to bed.” Kelly retorted, triumphantly grinning as Andrew scowled and I laughed.

“And this is true love.” I added on, smiling at the pair of them.

“Just wait, you'll be there someday.” Andrew smiled, standing up and grabbing his jacket. Kelly followed him, her hands lingering on her stomach for just a moment before slipping her fingers into Andy's. “Well, we'll leave you for a little while-- we've got to get dinner with my parents, but if you want some company later, just give us a buzz, we'll come back over.”

“Thanks guys, my parents will be here in a bit, so we'll see. But I'll let you know.”

“Alright! If we don't see you, have a good night!” The pair left me to my own devices, the room suddenly quieter without the two there.

I had some time to kill before my family arrived, and I didn't know how long it would be until John returned from from my apartment, figuring he was probably relishing the moment of free time he had to himself. I was debating on simply taking a nap until my eye landed on my camera, tucked away in the corner with the overnight bag I had brought to the hospital with me. It felt like it had been ages since I had pulled it out, when in reality it had maybe been a week since the camera had been used. Deciding now was just as good of a time as any, I climbed out of bed, carefully pulling the stand that had my IV bags attached behind me as I moved across the room and retrieved my camera. Digging through my bag, I found the travel tripod I kept with it, moving back to my bed and setting it up before flipping my camera onto video mode, adjusting it so it was focused on my face.

It felt weird to be working on a vlog like this, since most of the time there were other people constantly videotaping my life. When we had first started the tour with the Maine, we were being videotaped for the documentary they were working on, but I had adjusted to it so quickly that I didn't even think twice about having a camera pointed at me, capturing my every move. I hadn't made a habit of sitting down with my camera and just talking, my insight on that tour being found through interviews with the camera men instead. Even before that, when I had my videocamera it was entirely to capture shenanigans on the road, not act as a diary. The thought of being able to say whatever was liberating, yet intimidating at the same time, but I trusted Andrew's judgement when he said it helped him, so I figured that it would be worth trying out at the very least.

Taking a deep breath, I pressed the button on the camera to start recording, sliding back onto the bed and staring at the blinking red light just above the lens. I cleared my throat, trying to think about what to say, before I finally gave up and just began talking.

“Um, hi, I guess.” I started, then laughed at how stupid I sounded. “Wow, I sound like an idiot. Um, this is my first time vlogging like this, can you tell? But Andy said it'd help and I could use some way to talk about my life without being judged so whatever, we're going to give this a shot.”

Once I started talking it was a lot easier to keep going, my comfort growing as I spoke.

“So currently I'm sitting in the sixth floor of UCLA's Medical Center-- I only got here a few hours ago though. It's been kind of a crazy last week, so I suppose I should start at the beginning and explain it. I started feeling sick like a month ago, when we were touring Europe-- we being the Lady Says, of course. Anyways, I had this shitty cough, a sore throat, chest pains, fever-- I thought it was just a cold, and it wasn't getting better because I was on tour and I wasn't resting. But of course, I was wrong. Right after tour we went to the Billboards, and I collapsed right afterwards.” I paused for a moment, letting myself swallow the lump in my throat. “They did a bunch of testing, and a few days later I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma... Cancer... So anyways. I flew back here today, with John. My band knows, my management knows, Ava knows. Andrew and Kelly know. I am telling my parents and Michael when they get here. John knows, but we're waiting on telling his bandmates until my family knows... and yeah, whenever they all know then I guess we're making the announcement to the public.” I shrugged.

“It's shitty timing, really. I'm missing Warped Tour, and John will most likely still be going on tour-- I mean, it's not for another month yet, but still. I'm going to miss him when he's gone. I'll still have Ava and Kelly and Andrew, but it's not the same as your boyfriend, you know? It's going to be weird to be in Los Angeles for this long and not be doing anything though-- usually when I'm at home I still have all of these interviews and crap that I have to do, so that'll be different. But I can't change it I guess.”

I paused, thinking about what else to talk about. Standing up, I took the camera off the tripod and began to move it around, pointing out different things.

“So this is my room. Apparently every time I do chemo I'm going to be in here, so that should just be a blast. Hopefully we'll get some art or something in here soon so it's not so... bare.”

I stood up, pulling my IV stand behind me as I went over to the window, then around to the bathroom, before back to my bed. “This is my view. Nothing too special here... then this is the bathroom. Pretty basic. That's all there really is to the room. Maybe I'll do a tour of the floor later on, after I've been here for a while. It's pretty hard to do with the IV stand and all.” I gestured to the IV stand, sliding it back into position before returning the camera to the tripod. “Tomorrow I get my central line put in-- it's like a permanent IV that they can hook whatever up to. They're also doing a couple preventative procedures, and they're taking some eggs to freeze-- in case I want to be a mom someday and the chemo kills my eggs. That's a long way out though... I don't really know what else to say, honestly. I'm nervous, but I don't know if I can really explain it at the moment. So I guess I'm signing out for now... umm, officially as a cancer patient. Wow, that's weird. I'm a cancer patient. Okay, I'm signing off now. Bye.” I waved quickly before stopping the video, forcefully exhaling as I sat back on the bed, comprehending everything that was happening.

Not allowing myself to fall back into the cycle of being lost in my mind, I forced myself to put away the camera, afterwards laying back on the bed and closing my eyes in hopes of spending just a moment relaxing.

A couple minutes later the door opened, but I didn't bother to open my eyes. Just by the sound of the steps I could tell that it was John, his feet gently plodding against the floor as he tried to step quietly through the room, assuming I was asleep. His cologne gently floated through the air, tickling my nose as I took in the scent, the corners of my lips turning up at the smell. I could hear him setting down a bag before his footsteps came closer, pausing as he reached the side of the bed. The mattress sank beneath me as he sat down on the edge, his weight shifting as he moved a stray piece of hair away from my face. Finally I opened my eyes to look at him, a small smile gracing my lips as our eyes met.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He murmured, gently smiling at me.

“No, I was just... thinking.” I answered, lightly shrugging.

“About?”

“Everything.” I answered honestly, moving to the side so he could join me on the bed, as per our new routine. “Andy and Kelly stopped by today.”

“How was that?” John wrapped his arm behind me, letting me mold into his side.

“Good, I guess.” I shrugged. “They took the news well. Andy talked to me, gave me some coping advice. Kelly's starting to show, so baby McMahon is growing quite nicely.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. They're excited to be parents.”

“Good for them, I guess.” John shrugged, kissing the top of my head.

“It's weird to think that everyone else's lives will be going on while mine will be frozen in here.” The words unintentionally slipped from my lips, but after they started I realized there was no reason to try to stop the thought from coming out. It was true though-- Ava had her new job, Kelly and Andy had a baby on the way, John would be going on tour, my parents would have their jobs in Minnesota and Michael would be at school on the East Coast, but my life would be frozen, stuck in the oncology unit of UCLA Medical Center for who knows how long.

John's expression fell, his eyes sad as he looked at me. I felt small and stupid under his gaze, like a little child being pitied for my inability to keep up with everyone else. I would have rather disappeared than stayed under that gaze any longer, regretting that I said anything in the first place.

John finally pulled me closer, his voice muffled by my hair. “Your life isn't going to stop just because you're in here. It might not be as exciting as your life usually is, but you'll still be doing stuff, seeing people. You'll still have a life.”

I didn't bother to argue with him, already feeling more vulnerable than I cared to. Instead I sighed into his chest, pressing my cheekbone to his ribs, feeling the curve of his chest through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“Your parents are supposed to get here in a couple hours-- what do you want to do until then?” John changed the topic, though silently I wished we could talk about anything but my parents' arrival.

“I don't know,” I shrugged, letting a small yawn escape. “What is there even to do?”

John let out a low hum, pondering the options. “We could watch a movie... we could...” John tapped his chin in thought, “we could go for a walk, we could take a nap...”

“You really think they'll let me out of here to take a walk?” I cocked an eyebrow at him, skeptical. It had been days since I could leave my hospital room without at least two medical staff with me, and those circumstances were strictly for appointment purposes. Walks weren't even an idea in the back of my mind.

“I don't know, your nurse seems pretty nice. I could sweet talk her.” He suggested, giving me a smirk.

“Well some fresh air would be nice...” I started, thinking about it. The little moving I had been allowed to do today felt good after being confined to a bed for so long. I by no means felt healthy, but stretching out my stiff limbs was refreshing.

“Do you want me to see if we can go for a walk?” John asked, flashing a hopeful grin.

“Sure, why not.” I shrugged, not having any ideas of my own.

John left the room, returning a moment later with a nurse, who gave me a warm smile before carefully disconnecting me from my wires.

“Don't go too far, and let me know when you're back so I can plug you in.” She instructed as she disconnected the last thing, stepping back as I turned so my legs hung off the bed.

“Sweet. Thanks!” I grinned, excited for just a small dose of freedom from being connected to my bed.

John reached out and pulled me up, moving so his fingers intertwined with mine as we made our way out of the room.

“It feels good to be able to walk around after being stuck in bed for so long.” I commented as we rounded the corner, exploring the new hospital where I would be spending a lot of time.

“I have to admit, it's nice to see you out of your bed.” John admitted, turning and giving me a smile.

We continued to walk in silence for a little while, neither of us commenting on the varying states of disease, injury, and grief we found as we carefully treaded through the unit I had been admitted to. Eventually I began to feel my legs growing tired, and I sighed.

“Time to head back?” John asked, seeming to know what I meant by my sigh.

I simply nodded, leaning over to touch the side of my head to his shoulder. He turned, kissing my forehead as we quietly made our way back to my room. I laid back as John went to get the nurse, who quickly reconnected me before leaving the two of us to ourselves.

“I don't want to tell my family.” I sighed as he pulled up a chair, taking a seat.

“Do you want me to tell them?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I mean-- I wish it was that easy. They'd hate me for not telling them myself, but honestly? I don't want to be the bearer of bad news. I'm sick of it.” I replied. “I feel like I'm a giant rain cloud now, like 'here, you get some bad news, and you get some bad news, and everyone I care about gets some bad news!”

“It's not like we hold it against you though,” John pointed out. “We all know you would do anything to change it.”

I pursed my lips in thought, not wanting to think about my parents' imminent arrival.

“We still have a while until they get here.” I glanced up at the clock, time seeming to have stopped.

“You could take a nap?” John suggested, not without me noticing the heavy bags beneath his eyes.

“Only if you take one too.” I told him. “You look like you need it.”

“I always need a nap.” John chuckled quietly, standing up and gesturing for me to slide over. I had grown used to the sensation of the bed sinking next to me as he shimmied into place, having spent most of my time in the hospital sharing the tiny bed with him. I allowed my eyes to flutter shut, carefully relaxing as I listened to John's breathing even out, slowing down as he quickly drifted off to sleep. It took me a while longer, but evenutally I followed suit, sleep overtaking me.

When I woke up an hour later, my heart dropped to my stomach. John was no longer next to me, instead opening the door for my parents and Michael as they entered the room. The dread inside me was almost bursting out of me, my attempt at a smile faltering the second my brother made eye contact with me.

“Uh... hey Ber.” My brother's eyes usually were sparkling, yet as he addressed me there was no light inside him. Simply by his posture alone I could tell that he was aware of the circumstances, knowing that I wasn't going to be giving them any good news.

“Hey Michael,” I softly replied, extending my arms so he knew it was safe to hug me. “How was your trip?”

“Long,” he chuckled, wasting no time in giving me a hug. “Cross country flights take too long. At least the flight attendant was hot.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood.

I cracked a grin, hoping that the stone faces of my parents would lighten as they saw I was still smiling. The plan failed though, my mother's lips pressed tightly into a thin line as she watched, her crow's feet deeper than the last time I saw her, my father's steel gaze matching his salt and pepper hair.

“Hi mom... hi dad.” Glancing between the two of them, I swallowed the knot in my throat hoping they'd say something.

My mom was the first to speak, coming closer to gently hug me. “Hi sweetie... We're glad we get to see you.” She pulled away, looking me over. “Ava wasn't kidding when she said you've gotten thin.”

I grimaced, unsure of how to respond. My dad took his turn hugging me, avoiding the comment my mom had just spilled. “Any word from the doctors on what's up?” His voice was cautious, yet hopeful, leading me to sigh,

“Yeah... sit down. We've gotta talk.” Silently I prayed that my parents didn't hear my voice crack as I spoke, knowing that if I wasn't careful I was going to break, something I didn't want to unleash on my family.

John was giving me a reassuring smile from where he was, leaning against the door. I couldn't help but let my gaze linger on him, his eyes concealing oceans of thoughts that he was so delicately tucking away because of the circumstances that had led us to where we were.

“So what's up?” Micheal asked, taking a seat in one of the plastic chairs that were standard with every room. My parents had done the same, sitting next to each other and subtly linking hands, my dad gently squeezing my mom's.

“Uh...” I started, sighing. I paused for a moment, working up the courage before the words finally blurted out. “I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma.”

The three faces before me reacted simultaneously, eyes widening the split second their brains registered what I had just revealed to them. My mother's mouth opened and closed repeatedly, almost as if she was a fish that was in open air, while my brother's jaw simply dropped, and my father's lips pressed together tightly, concealing the emotions coursing through him.

“So... how far along is it?” My brother sputtered, still in shock from what I had just told him. My mother appeared as though she was going to burst into tears at any given second, my father remaining stone faced as he sat in his chair.

“It's uh, it's pretty early. I only have one tumor, it's just right here,” I pointed, pulling down the collar of my top so they could see the biopsy scar. “It's a 96% cure rate, so I'll be fine, but it's a lot of chemo so I won't be going on the road anytime soon.”

“We'll take care of you.” My mom blurted out, sharply moving forward to the edge of her seat. “You can come home and stay with us and do treatment at Mayo, or we can come out here. You'll need someone--”

“Mom, you know I can't make you do that.” I cut her off, trying not to let my agitation show. “You and dad both have jobs-- hell, dad runs a construction company-- you can't just drop everything and move here because I'm sick. What would the school do? What would dad's company do? Ava's got a job out here so she'll be moved back here by the end of the week, and I'll have Kelly and Andrew here-- they've been through this before, so they know what's going on--”

“And she'll have me around.” John pointed out. I shot him a curious look, unsure what he meant by that. To be fair, he is my boyfriend, so he'll be there in that sense, but I didn't know what his tour plans were-- after all, playing shows was how he made money. He could only go so long without touring before he'd be broke.

The guilt from my mother's dejected expression hit me like a wall, though I could hardly blame her: She had lost her both of her parents, her father only months before, and now there was a glaring possibility that she could be losing her daughter, yet her daughter refused to let her help prevent it from becoming a reality. That's part of a parents' job-- helping their kid get better when they're sick, so for me to deny that was a blow to her heart.

“Look,” I told her, my expression softening. “If you guys want to regularly come visit, I'd love to have you. The company would be great and let's face it, your mac n' cheese is better than everyone else's on this planet. But I don't want you to completely stop your lives because mine has to take a detour. I couldn't let it happen with a clean conscience.”

My dad sighed, gently massaging his temples. “If you need anything-- anything,” he repeated, emphasizing his words despite his low voice, “please let us know. We're your parents, and though we respect your wishes, it's hard to not want to help.”

“Thanks,” I nodded, knowing that he was trying to mediate the situation, having kept the peace between my mother and I countless times growing up. “I'll make sure to let you know.”

The room lingered in silence for a little while, my parents still watching me while my eyes darted around the room, between Michael, John, and the walls; only occasionally would I meet my parents' eyes. The tension was unbearable, my throat closing up at the thought of speaking, yet no one else was daring to break the silence.

“Well, um, we should probably go get settled in the hotel.” Michael eventually cleared his throat, looking at his watch. “We've spent a lot of time traveling today and all... not that we don't like seeing you.” He tacked on the last bit to make it seem friendlier, though I knew without the addition that he could recognize my distress that the silence was causing.

“No, I understand.” I gave him the biggest smile I could muster, shooting him a silent “thank you” with my eyes. “And I'll have a lot of stuff going on here tomorrow-- I'm getting my port put in, then we're doing the pre-chemo things so that I can start treatment the day after, so I figure you guys will want to be here for that.”

My parents nodded, standing up and moving towards the bed, each taking their turn to hug and kiss me goodbye before my family departed, leaving John and I to ourselves. The second the door closed behind them, John turned to me, giving me an apologetic smile.

“That was rough.” I sighed, laying back on the bed.

“You okay?” He asked, moving so he could sit on the edge of the bed.

“I just crushed them. So no, not really.” I admitted. “Did you see my mom's face when I told them they weren't moving in? She looked like I had actually died.”

“She just wants to make sure you're taken care of.” John reasoned, slipping his hand into mine.

“I know, which is why it sucked telling her no, but I already am going nuts from people treading so lightly around me. I would go absolutely crazy if they spent every hour of every day just doting on me.” I replied, trying to justify my response.

“I understand, I'm just saying. It's what moms do.” He pointed out.

I waited for a moment before asking the next thing that was on my mind, wondering when he was going to tell me about his plans for the summer.

“Are you guys still going on Warped?”

“Yeah...” he sighed, trailing off. “The guys were really empathetic, but we need to go on this tour. I already booked my flights for the days off, and all of your tentative chemo dates line up with them, so I'll be here while you're in the hospital at least.”

The edges of my lips flicked up at the thought of him sitting at his computer, carefully checking his calendar and buying plane tickets for every day off.

“I can cover some of the plane tickets,” I offered. “I mean, they aren't cheap--”

“No no, I've got it. Don't worry about that, darlin'. We've got other things to think about.” John smiled, kissing me. I felt my cheeks flush at the new pet name, liking the way it rolled so effortlessly off of his lips.

“Alright... So the guys know? About the cancer?”

“Yeah...” John started. “They were upset, but they know you're a fighter. They'd love to come see you. I mean, they'll be coming up here because we have to practice before we go, but we aren't going to be practicing all the time...”

“I'd love to see them.”

John nodded, his eyes focused on me.

“When are you going to tell everyone else?”

“By everyone else, do you mean the public? Because I've told everyone who I wanted to tell in person...”

“Yeah, that's what I meant.”

“Whenever, I guess. I don't have anything holding me back. Alice has the post, I just have to tell her to go live with it on the website.”

“Did you write it?”

“Yeah, I wrote it before Kelly and Andy came by today, when you were at home.”

John nodded, lost in his own thoughts. I reached over to the table, plucking my phone from where it had sat since my arrival. Ignoring the mountain of new messages, I shot Alice a quick text telling her the post could go live whenever, not bothering to deal with the unread messages before setting my phone back where I had found it.

“I just told her to make it go live.” I explained, seeing John's confused expression. A moment later my phone beeped, Alice's name lighting up the screen.

“Post is officially live. If you need anything let me know.”

Moments later, a tweet from the official The Lady Says twitter showed up, with the link to the article and the simple title: “An Important Announcement.” I wasted no time re-tweeting the link before clicking through to the link, seeing my message live on the website that in the past had only shared exciting news, yet was now carrying a heavy message.

A message from Beret:

Hi Everyone,

I don't really know how to properly state the news I have to tell you, but I have to tell you one way or another, so I suppose I'm just going to go for it and whatever happens, happens. This is not an easy announcement for me to make, it has been one that I've had to ease into as I've had to come to terms with it. As some of you may know, I was recently hospitalized after being sick for upwards of a month, fighting through a tour and the billboard awards with a mystery illness that was not going away despite various treatment attempts. The doctors caring for me decided it would be in my best interest to undergo extensive testing, which led to a major shift in the direction of my life at this point: after a few days of testing, I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. While it is a big shock, Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma is a highly treatable disease, the cure rate hanging out at 96%, which is very good for me. I'm feeling strong and confident that I will beat this disease, and I have been fortunate to feel the immense support of my family and friends as I've been traveling through the diagnosis process and embarking into the treatment for this disease. I'm going to be in the care of some of the best doctors around, which will hopefully make the treatment process run smoothly so recovery will happen faster.

Unfortunately, I am unable to tour while going through treatment, and as a result The Lady Says is unable to play Warped Tour this summer. We're terribly sorry to anyone who was hoping to catch us on Warped, but unfortunately it's a matter that is out of our hands. Hopefully we will be able to play next summer, or even the summer after that, but we won't be playing any shows until I have completed treatment and have a clean bill of health.

Until next time,

Beret.

Well aware of what I was reading, John held out his hand, gesturing for me to hand him the phone. I passed it to him and watched as his eyes travelled across the screen, occasionally scrolling so he could continue to read the message. A couple of pieces of hair were dangling in his face, ignored by him as he continued to read on the small screen. Reaching the end of the post, he sighed as he returned my phone to me, sadness creeping across his features.

“The cat's out of the bag now, I guess.”

“So it seems.” I shrugged, my phone vibrating as various shocked twitter replies began to roll in. “And so it begins...”

“Hey, don't worry about them.” John slipped the phone out of my hand, setting it on the table. “I know you like making everyone happy, but right now you've gotta focus on you.”

I sighed, pulling him back onto the bed with me and cuddling close to him. John knew me too well, always able to predict what was going through my mind at any given moment, even when we were across the country or across an ocean from each other.

However, I didn't like the idea of focusing on me. Never having been one to dwell on thoughts and philosophy for long, I would have much rather been out doing things, seeing the world, experiencing moments as they happened than locking myself away to think about things that I didn't know and wasn't ever going to. Even the idea of my thoughts sent chills up my spine, not wanting to question the world that I built around me. One of the most daunting thoughts of my newfound downtime was that I wouldn't be able to escape my own head by doing things-- in taking care of myself I would risk getting trapped in my head, something that I had no intentions of falling into anytime soon.

I could only pray that John wasn't aware of what happened when I got lost in my head, because if it were to happen again, no matter how much he loved me, there was simply no way we would survive.

&&&

Honestly, the next few days were a blur.

Between the painkillers for my central line surgery, the chemotherapy drugs themselves, and all of the drugs to lessen the side effects of the chemotherapy, I was hardly coherent, much less willing to deal with people. Worsening the matter was my ever present restlessness, dying to escape the four walls that had only confined me for a few days, yet felt as though they had held me captive for far longer. I longed for my own bed, to be able to walk out onto my terrace and enjoy the sun pounding down on me, to be able to complete simple tasks as grabbing something from across the room on my own or even the simple sensation of walking across my room without having to either spend five minutes disconnecting all of my tubes and wires, or else pull the stand containing all of my medications along with me.

The icing on the cake, however, was the nausea: unluckily for me, the anti-nausea drugs weren't effective, so what energy I had was spent praying to the porcelain gods. I felt like shit, to put it bluntly. I knew it was going to be bad, but I didn't realize how bad it actually was. And while I was drugged up, there were no amount of drugs that would be able to hide how shitty I looked, or how much it scared the people who were watching me go through it all. For all of the morphine they pumped through my veins, I could still see the fear in John's eyes when I had to rush to the bathroom, feel him cringe as my knees hit the tile when I had to empty out my stomach. I could still sense my brother biting his lip when I would unleash another coughing fit, and it didn't take much to hear Kelly's hushed whispers to Andrew about her concerns with my condition.

When treatments had just been talk-- before I actually was being shoved with needles and having pills sent down my throat multiple times a day, I was scared; but I thought I would still be just fine. However, at 3 AM after my first day of chemo, the sound of my knees knocking against the tile for the 10th time that day and the feeling of my 3rd attempt at dinner coming back up were enough to convince me that maybe this wasn't as simple as I thought it would be. If this was what every cycle was going to be like, I had no idea how I was going to manage to get through it, especially since everything I had tried to eat since starting the chemo had come back up only hours later.

When I was finally convinced that there was nothing else that could possibly make its way out of my stomach, I let my forehead rest against my arm, which had been draped across the seat and braced me when I dropped to my knees just minutes before. I took a moment, attempting to regain my composure before crawling back into my bed. I knew that I woke up John with my rush to the bathroom, the IV stand rattling behind me as I dragged it to the bathroom, letting go as I slammed the door and went straight for the toilet. After such a commotion, any miniscule detail that made me look worse would scare the shit out of him.

I should have known that I wouldn't be allowed that grace though, the door to the bathroom creaking behind me as John gently pushed the door open to stick his head in.

“You okay?”

John's voice was thick with sleep, its low tone especially dry and raspy with the late hour. He was squinting, the fluorescent light from the bathroom a harsh contrast to the dark room he had just left. The guilt from waking him up wasted no time invading my system, knowing that it had been at least a week since he had managed to get one solid night of sleep and that it was my fault he wasn't still out cold. John ran his fingers through his messy hair, trying to wake up and gather his wits to deal with the situation before him.

I tried to suck it up and nod that I was fine, thinking that if I could falsely convince him that I was okay, I would be able to convince myself that I would be fine. Instead I accidentally choked on air, launching myself into a coughing fit that left me in tears.

If I didn't feel pathetic before, I did in that moment: sitting on the floor of a hospital room bathroom after emptying out my stomach, crying and coughing while my half-asleep boyfriend could only look on in astonishment. For the girl who used to have everything, this was definitely not where I ever expected myself to be.

I didn't have to answer his question, John sitting down next to me and pulling me into his lap as I sniffed in a failed attempt to recollect myself. My chest ached from the coughing and crying, my vision blurred from excess water in my eyes and from not having glasses or contacts in so I could see, and I was simply exhausted. I'm sure I looked as shitty as I felt, my hair a mess and my eyes puffy from crying. I buried my face in his chest, hoping that if I hid my face John wouldn't have to look at how much of a mess I was. John let me cry myself out before attempting to do anything, not knowing if I would be triggered into another round of tears by any of his actions.

“Come on, let's go someplace more comfortable.” John finally mumbled, awake yet exhausted.

He didn't give me a chance to respond, slipping his arms underneath my legs and carrying me back to my bed, letting me grab my IV stand and pull it along as we left the bathroom. When he finally set me down, he went back to his bed, rummaging through before pulling out his computer and a disc, popping it in before bringing the computer back to the bed and setting it on the bedside stand.

“What are you doing?” I quietly hiccupped, still calming down from the crying.

“Do you remember the night when you sprained your ankle on tour?” John asked, keeping his voice quiet as he found his power cord and plugged in the computer.

“You mean when you got to see me doped up on drugs and I made a total fool of myself?”

“I didn't think you were a fool, for what it's worth.” John smiled, a glint of happiness showing in his eyes through the dark room. “But that's the night I'm thinking of, yes.”

“What about it?”

“Do you remember how you finally ended up going to sleep?” He asked, hinting at something.

“We started watching the lion king.” I answered, not thinking twice about it.

“Exactly. When I was younger and I got sick and I couldn't sleep, I would put on the Lion King and let that take me over. I might not know what you're going through, but I know putting in a feel-good movie always makes me feel a little better when I'm sick, and I know you're sick and that you like the Lion King. I can't make you magically get better, but if I can help even a little bit I'll try my best. I brought the movie along thinking it might make you smile at least.” John slid into the bed next to me, wrapping his arm around me and kissing my forehead.

The explanation brought a smile to my lips, the thin line curving up as the method behind his madness became clear to me. As lucky as I felt, it didn't erase the mess of my emotions, still feeling very rough from the taxing day I had just struggled through.

“I don't deserve you,” I mumbled, pressing a kiss to his chest and praying John wouldn't sense how vulnerable I felt.

“Nonsense, I'm the one who doesn't deserve you-- I'm the one who gets to wake up to a beautiful girl, both inside and out.”

I scoffed at his comment.

“What?” John asked, responding to my reaction.

“I'm hardly beautiful. Especially not now.” I sullenly replied, thinking about how ungracefully disheveled I must have looked.

John sighed, pulling me into his arms. “Beret, I always think you're beautiful. Not just pretty or whatever. I know you don't feel like it right now, but you are. I know you're sick and that it's wearing down on you.” John paused, kissing the tip of my nose. “So let's start watching this movie and maybe we'll both catch up on some sleep, okay? You can deny it as much as you want but I'm still going to think you're beautiful, but most importantly I'm still going to love you.”

I didn't bother to argue, knowing that I would lose. Instead I adjusted my position as John got the movie rolling, feeling his fingers trace along my arm as his eyes went between the movie and me. After such a long day, it didn't take much for any energy I had to vanish, my eyelids so heavy that there was no way I could keep them open. It was only a matter of time before I finally fell asleep.