Beau Watson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
halfwaytoheaven) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2014-03-20 01:33 am
halfwaytoheaven) wrote in muserevival2014-03-20 01:33 am
Quote of the Day 060.
“People cry, not because they’re weak. It’s because they’ve been strong for too long.”
- Johnny Depp
Beau had been dreading this day for weeks. Or months, if he was being honest with himself. He was dreading it since he had gotten the news his leukemia was back, because he knew it would come. For the last few months, the chemotherapy had been kicking his ass. This last round especially, and this whole past week, he had been so sick and weak with it, he was bedridden. He hadn’t been able to go home after each dose, and when his electrolytes dropped to a dangerously low level, he was admitted for fluid therapy.
He had reached that point where he was getting too exhausted to fight. He hadn’t voiced it to anyone, and he saw in the faces of his husband and loved ones that they were worrying he was doing just that. It was about this time he began to resolve himself to the fact he could die. He wasn’t that far off starting to say goodbye to people, though this time, every time he looked at his husband’s face, it stopped him dead in his tracks from just going that little further and telling him it was time to prepare themselves.
When he was younger, Beau’s battle had been long and hard. But he had only been a kid back then. This time, the leukemia’s progression was much more acute and rapid. He got sicker more quickly, and the symptoms had been more severe, his tolerance to the chemo lower. He had stopped making promises that he would fight this, because he had started to doubt them. He didn’t want to give anyone false hope. But now here they were. Beau in the hospital bed with Austin sitting on the edge of it beside him holding his hand shakily, like he wanted to squeeze it tighter but he was scared that if he did, he would hurt him. Which he probably would. Even Beau’s pyjamas hurt him right now. He was freezing too, feeling impossible to get warm from all the weight he had lost. His oncologist sat in the chair beside the bed and flipped Beau’s file open, containing the results from his latest scans and tests that were done the previous day to monitor the benefits of the chemo... if there were any at all. He could be sitting there about to deliver Beau’s death sentence, and they both knew it too.
Austin looked as sick as Beau was feeling and he couldn’t even look at the doctor. Instead, his eyes were trained down his hand holding Beau’s. Beau couldn’t blame him at all. “Look, doc, just lay it on the line, okay?” Beau told him, his voice weak and scratchy from the preceding hours he had spent throwing up. “Just tell me how long I’ve got.” It was final, and it was the first he said out loud what he was thinking and it caused Austin to look up sharply, possibly even borderline glaring at him like saying it out loud made it real. It wasn’t really a glare, though. It was a look of absolute terror, and it was matched with a slight shake of Austin’s head, like he couldn’t hear the next bit. Beau actually thought his husband was about to pass out.
“I can’t,” the doctor finally said and rested his hand on the top of Beau’s case notes. “Beau, the scans have shown that the chemo has completely halted the progression of the leukemia. Now, it hasn’t reduced. The test results are very much in the same range as your initial diagnostic scans, but it hasn’t progressed either. The chemo’s working. But at this point, I think it’s important we discuss bone marrow transplant, and a stronger dose of chemo. That is going to be our best chance to beat this thing. For now, you’ve done brilliant, Beau. It’s not time to give up yet. We’re not letting you die on us.”
Beau just stared at him in shock, not sure he even heard correctly over the ringing in his ears. It was only when Austin reflexively gave his hand a tighter squeeze that Beau realised he hadn’t misheard. His doctor really had just confirmed the chemo that had floored him had been active in halting the leukemia spreading. His mouth hanging open slightly, he looked from the doctor to Austin, and as soon as he saw his husband’s face, he promptly burst into tears when the news hit him hard and fast. They weren’t tears of sadness, they were tears of relief, and he put his hands up over his face and just sat there sobbing, leaning forward to rest his aching head against Austin’s shoulder.
He knew his fight wasn’t over, but to hear his life wasn’t either, it gave him a glimmer of hope and made the pain, the sickness, the exhaustion all fucking worth it.
Beau Watson-Shaw | Original Character
- Johnny Depp
Beau had been dreading this day for weeks. Or months, if he was being honest with himself. He was dreading it since he had gotten the news his leukemia was back, because he knew it would come. For the last few months, the chemotherapy had been kicking his ass. This last round especially, and this whole past week, he had been so sick and weak with it, he was bedridden. He hadn’t been able to go home after each dose, and when his electrolytes dropped to a dangerously low level, he was admitted for fluid therapy.
He had reached that point where he was getting too exhausted to fight. He hadn’t voiced it to anyone, and he saw in the faces of his husband and loved ones that they were worrying he was doing just that. It was about this time he began to resolve himself to the fact he could die. He wasn’t that far off starting to say goodbye to people, though this time, every time he looked at his husband’s face, it stopped him dead in his tracks from just going that little further and telling him it was time to prepare themselves.
When he was younger, Beau’s battle had been long and hard. But he had only been a kid back then. This time, the leukemia’s progression was much more acute and rapid. He got sicker more quickly, and the symptoms had been more severe, his tolerance to the chemo lower. He had stopped making promises that he would fight this, because he had started to doubt them. He didn’t want to give anyone false hope. But now here they were. Beau in the hospital bed with Austin sitting on the edge of it beside him holding his hand shakily, like he wanted to squeeze it tighter but he was scared that if he did, he would hurt him. Which he probably would. Even Beau’s pyjamas hurt him right now. He was freezing too, feeling impossible to get warm from all the weight he had lost. His oncologist sat in the chair beside the bed and flipped Beau’s file open, containing the results from his latest scans and tests that were done the previous day to monitor the benefits of the chemo... if there were any at all. He could be sitting there about to deliver Beau’s death sentence, and they both knew it too.
Austin looked as sick as Beau was feeling and he couldn’t even look at the doctor. Instead, his eyes were trained down his hand holding Beau’s. Beau couldn’t blame him at all. “Look, doc, just lay it on the line, okay?” Beau told him, his voice weak and scratchy from the preceding hours he had spent throwing up. “Just tell me how long I’ve got.” It was final, and it was the first he said out loud what he was thinking and it caused Austin to look up sharply, possibly even borderline glaring at him like saying it out loud made it real. It wasn’t really a glare, though. It was a look of absolute terror, and it was matched with a slight shake of Austin’s head, like he couldn’t hear the next bit. Beau actually thought his husband was about to pass out.
“I can’t,” the doctor finally said and rested his hand on the top of Beau’s case notes. “Beau, the scans have shown that the chemo has completely halted the progression of the leukemia. Now, it hasn’t reduced. The test results are very much in the same range as your initial diagnostic scans, but it hasn’t progressed either. The chemo’s working. But at this point, I think it’s important we discuss bone marrow transplant, and a stronger dose of chemo. That is going to be our best chance to beat this thing. For now, you’ve done brilliant, Beau. It’s not time to give up yet. We’re not letting you die on us.”
Beau just stared at him in shock, not sure he even heard correctly over the ringing in his ears. It was only when Austin reflexively gave his hand a tighter squeeze that Beau realised he hadn’t misheard. His doctor really had just confirmed the chemo that had floored him had been active in halting the leukemia spreading. His mouth hanging open slightly, he looked from the doctor to Austin, and as soon as he saw his husband’s face, he promptly burst into tears when the news hit him hard and fast. They weren’t tears of sadness, they were tears of relief, and he put his hands up over his face and just sat there sobbing, leaning forward to rest his aching head against Austin’s shoulder.
He knew his fight wasn’t over, but to hear his life wasn’t either, it gave him a glimmer of hope and made the pain, the sickness, the exhaustion all fucking worth it.
no subject
So much pain and sadness and then end with that glimmer of hope. Wonderful! <3