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Cancer

Warnings: Mentions of illness/death, angst 

Word Count: 2380

Author's Note: This is a long one! I tried to include all of the crucial moments that tend to go along with cancer fics without making this a super long post, hopefully I did ok! 

On June 19th, the headache began. It didn't seem too out of the ordinary at first, after all you had spent most of the day staring at your computer screen and every now and again the eye strain would cause you to have a headache. You brushed it off as nothing, took some pain medication, and decided to call it a night.

One June 21st, you began to get concerned. The headache hadn't gone away, in fact, it had only gotten worse over the past few days. Trying to ignore the pounding in your head, you sat down in front of the computer and began to research lasting headaches. Everything you found seemed very minor or very serious. You decided to play it safe and call the doctor the next morning.

On June 22nd, you called the doctor and told Josh what had been going on. He immediately became panicked and shot a million questions at you, the main one being why you hadn't told him earlier. You calmly explained that you hadn't wanted to worry him if it had been nothing, and besides, how were you supposed to know that the headache was going to last for days?

One June 23rd, Josh drove you to the hospital. Your headache was still going strong, and no average amount of pain medication was doing anything to so much as reduce it a little. You were beginning to notice other little symptoms too: nausea came and went, your vision had gotten worse, and your balance was terrible. You were clumsy enough already, but now you managed to trip while standing still. The doctor listened intently as you explained these symptoms to him, and the look on his face while you did alluded to the fact that it wasn't looking good. Josh squeezed your hand tightly while you talked, but you knew it was more to reassure himself than it was to reassure you.

On June 25th, you found yourself back at the hospital. This time, it was for an MRI scan to see what exactly was going on in your brain. You gave Josh a small wave and a smile before you were wheeled off down a long hallway. Fear was swirling in your stomach, but you pushed it down deep and focused on the bright white tiles passing along beside you. The nurses were talking quietly behind you, creating a hum of background noise. The diagnosis wasn't good, you found out. In fact, it was worse than "not good". It turns out there was a tumor growing in part of your brain, causing the headaches and the blurry vision and the loss of balance. Josh pulled you into a hug, holding you so tightly that you weren't sure how you were still able to breathe. You wanted to hug him back, tell him you were ok, but you were in so much shock that you couldn't do anything but sit there and stare at the wall, wondering where everything had gone downhill.

On June 27th, you arrived at the oncology department of the hospital with a bag and your husband in tow. An overly-positive nurse checked you in and showed you to the room where you would be staying, as if you and Josh had just decided to go on vacation for awhile. You set your things down on the couch at the far side of the room and changed into a hospital gown before crawling up onto the hospital bed and making yourself comfortable. Josh smiled every time you looked over at him sitting on the couch, but you could see the sadness behind his eyes. It didn't take long before nurses were walking in and out of the room, hooking you up to various monitors and such. Josh sat quietly and watched, his eyes following every nurse that came and went from the room. You wanted to reach out and hold his hand to let him know you were ok, but he was too far and the nurses needed as much space as possible so you settled for giving him a shy smile every now and again. That night, you researched survival rates for tumors like the one you had on your phone while Josh was asleep. You fell asleep with tears in your eyes and fear in your heart.

On June 28th, you met with your oncologist for the first time. The three of you discussed treatment options, going over all the side effects and costs of each. Josh was the one who asked all the serious questions, all you could manage to do was nod along and try to ignore the fear that was causing your stomach to feel like it was collapsing in on itself. You eventually settled on chemotherapy. With how serious your tumor was, it was determined that you would be staying in the hospital for the duration of your treatment. The goal was to shrink the tumor down to a manageable size and remove it through surgery. Josh seemed confident in the decision, but all you could think about was how unlikely to work all of it was.

On July 6th, you and Josh celebrated you getting through the first cycle of chemotherapy. He bought your favorite kind of cake from the grocery store down the street, but you only managed to take a few bites before you felt too sick to keep eating. Josh took your plate from you and finished the cake, knowing that you would feel bad if it went to waste. Once he was finished eating, he pulled a chair over and made himself comfortable by the side of your hospital bed so that the two of you could watch some Netflix together. The two of you had quickly found that binge watching shows was the best way to kill time and distract you from the nasty side effects that the chemotherapy was beginning to have. It also gave Josh an excuse to sit close to you and make as much physical contact as he possibly could from where he was sitting.

On July 15th, you lost the first clump of hair. It scared you at first, you weren't used to seeing several strands of your hair just resting on your pillow. You carefully ran a hand along your scalp only to look at your hand and see several more pieces of hair wrapped around your fingers. Tears begin to fill your eyes and cloud your vision. Your hair had been something of a security blanket for you, an easy way to hide your face from view if needed. Now it was being taken from you too. Josh quickly noticed you sniffling as you looked down at clumps of hair, and he was at your side in seconds to rub your arm and reassure you that everything would be alright.

On July 16th, you and Josh worked together to shave your head. Josh walked into the room early the next morning, as he always did, with a beanie pulled down almost to his eyebrows. It seemed out of the ordinary, but you were so worried about being bald that you didn't think much of it. You sat still as Josh carefully ran the clippers along your head, sending your hair cascading down around you. A few tears slipped from your eyes, but you hastily wiped them away to avoid distracting Josh. As soon as it was done, you took a quick look at yourself in a mirror before grabbing one of the many colored beanies Josh had brought and pulling it over your bare head. You were about to scroll through Twitter to distract yourself when Josh said he had something to show you. He pulled off his beanie in one swift motion, revealing his own shaven head. You couldn't help but crack a smile as you demanded that he come stand close enough to you that you could feel his head. The beanie made a lot more sense now.

On July 23rd, you finally felt decent enough to let people come visit. People that you knew came and went throughout the day, bringing you food and flowers and cards. It was nice to see everyone, but it was also exhausting. You found yourself telling the same stories over and over to different family members. When Tyler and Jenna walked into the room, you were relieved that you wouldn't have to tell them all about the diagnosis. Josh had no doubt been keeping them updated on every little thing. You started bawling when Tyler handed you a binder, explaining that a couple local clique members had collected notes from people all around the world to give to you in the off chance that one of them bumped into Tyler or Josh. It took them awhile to get you to calm down enough to finally be able to talk again.

On August 4th, you were given bad news. You had gone in for an MRI in the morning to see how effective the chemotherapy was. While waiting for the results to come back, Josh had suggested the two of you play card games. Your entire afternoon had been spent playing every card game that you and Josh could remember the rules of. The two of you were in the middle of an intense game of war when the oncologist walked in. He calmly explained that the tumor hadn't changed in size and that if treatment was going to be successful, you would need to greatly increase the doses of chemotherapy. This, of course, meant even worse side effects than you were already facing. Josh agreed instantly, and with the way he was looking at you, you knew there was no way you would get away with saying no.

On August 29th, you knew the battle you were fighting was a losing one. The increased dosages were taking a toll on you, and it was getting increasingly difficult to do even the most basic of things. In the back of your mind, you knew that if this dosage didn't work, you were out of options. You knew that Josh knew it too, you could see the worry hidden behind his eyes every time you looked at him. All you could do was hope.

On September 8th, you knew the battle was over. After another MRI scan, you were informed that the chemotherapy was essentially ineffective. Josh began to shoot rapid fire questions at the oncologist, blocking you from getting a word in edgewise. Your choice was already made, and part of you knew that it had been made since the first time treatment had been ineffective. After numerous attempts to break into the conversation, you eventually had to send Josh out of the room. He looked hurt by your actions, but you knew him being out of the room was the only way you would be able to do what had to be done.

On September 9th, you stopped treatment. Josh had pleaded with you all night to change your mind, but you knew that there had been no other option. The treatment hadn't been effective, and you could hardly call what you had been doing the past few months "living". You tried to explain to him that what you were doing was the right choice, but he wouldn't listen. He ended up going home that night, leaving you all alone in your dim hospital room. It was the first night you had spent alone since your diagnosis. You had forgotten how lonely nights could feel.

On September 10th, Josh came back. His eyes were puffy and the circles under them were dark; it was evident that he hadn't slept well. He wordlessly walked over and hugged you, burying his head in the crook of your neck. After hugging you for awhile, he began to mutter quiet apologies. You hugged him tightly and told him it was ok. All the two of you could do was enjoy whatever time you had left together.

On September 29th, you knew the end was drawing near. Most of your days were spent floating in and out of consciousness, barely aware of what was going on around you. Josh stayed by your side the entire time, taking advantage of whatever time he could get with you. TV was pretty much out of the question now, you could hardly stay awake for a full episode, so he would tell you stories or just talk about random things from his childhood. He would even sneak a kiss every so often, even though you felt bad because your lips were so cracked.

On October 3rd, you took your last breath. You knew it was coming, so you quickly called him over to your bedside. He laced his fingers with yours and looked at you expectedly, unaware of what was really happening. There were a million things in the world that you wanted to tell him, but you settled for a simple "I love you more than anything else in this world" and reassuring squeeze of his hand before you began to drift away. The last thing you heard was a quiet "I love you too" and Josh's soft lips on your knuckles.

On October 16th, your funeral was held. It was a rainy day, but it didn't deter anyone from coming to your funeral. It was an especially hard day for Josh, who seemed to find traces of you everywhere he looked. His hair had long since come back since he shaved it with you and he decided to keep it that way, you had always liked his hair a bit on the longer side. He sat quietly while everyone shared their speeches, twisting his wedding band around his finger. He hadn't had the heart to take it off yet. Once everyone left, he walked out to the spot where you had been buried. He talked to you for awhile, it helped to loosen the knot that had been tied so tightly in his stomach since the day you died. It was only when it truly began to pour that he laid your favorite flowers next to your tombstone and walked slowly back to his car. He hoped that wherever you were, the weather was nicer than this.

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