#being told to your face by medical professionals that your chances of survival are slim is... to put it lightly‚ unpleasant. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

that-sw-writer · 4 years

Note

Prompt #3 was so good!! can you please do a part 2? I love your writing💕💕

Thank you!! And thanks for requesting it, I was meaning to write a part 2 and totally forgot 🥴

I’ve also renamed the series ‘come back to me’

Summary: Kylo isn’t ready to let you go, he’s willing to do anything to bring you back from the brink.

Word count: 2218

Warnings: probably terrible use of medical dialect by me, lost of angst, mentions mental health/trauma, mentions death

PART ONE

MASTERLIST

Come back to me II

It had been a month, and Kylo still felt numb.

He still visited you every day, but there was always that impending sense of doom lurking around you like a dark shroud. It was just a matter of time before one of the doctors became brave enough to tell their Supreme Leader the harsh truth.

The truth that his wife had been in a coma for a month, that he had sourced the greatest medical professionals in the galaxy and even they couldn't draw you back to consciousness. You had sustained extensive injuries, and that was before the malnutrition and presumed mental trauma had been taken into account.

Eventually somebody had to speak up. The medical staff had spent a long time arguing over whose responsibility it was to tell Kylo that he needed to start thinking about letting you go, and eventually they decided to approach him as a pack... after all, the saying was 'safety in numbers.'

When the Chief Medical Officer had given him his two options: let you go, or keep you alive on the basis that you might never wake up, he had said that only by giving your body a chance to sustain itself would you possibly awake; although the chances were extremely slim. Kylo had simply ordered them all out of the room in an angry fit.

He wanted to demolish the walls with his Saber, but you were laying there so peacefully, he couldn't bring himself to do it. You had been the source of all of his happiness for so long now, he had no idea how to cope without you - in short, he wasn't coping without you. He was becoming more and more destructive by the day, especially where the pirates who kidnapped you in the first place were concerned. He was ruthlessly hunting them down across the the galaxy, following up every lead, every rumour, no stone was left unturned when it came to your captors. If he couldn't have you, he would at least have their blood as compensation.

Part of his destructive nature was stemming from his own guilt. If he had just gotten to you sooner, perhaps he would have caught you in time for the medical team to save you. But he hadn't made it fast enough, in fact the doctors had said that it was a miracle in itself that you had survived, even if you were comatose. On paper, you should have been dead, but your sheer will to live had kept you going.

Kylo sat by your bedside, and clutched his head in his hands as he tried to process his frustration. He wondered what you were dreaming about - one of the doctors he had brought in from Coruscant had told him that your brain was still active, and that you were able to dream, as well as possibly register things that were going on around you.

He just hoped that you were dreaming of happier times together, like when you had taken a trip away to Bespin together. Just the two of you, pretending that you could have a life outside of the First Order, although naturally the Supreme Leader and his wife were two very recognisable faces. Nevertheless, you had never felt so at peace in one another's company.

You strangely looked at peace now, Kylo thought. Your features were relaxed and soft, and for what it was worth you were looking in much better health than you had when he and the Knights had brought you back from Bor.

"Please don't let those animals be your finals thoughts, my love." He quietly urged you. If you could subconsciously register what was going on around you, he knew you would hear his voice. "You deserve the galaxy, and I promised I would give it to you. I'm just sorry I let you down." Emotion now filled his voice, and he prayed that nobody would come in and see him in such a vulnerable state. "I will hunt them down and avenge you, that's a promise I can keep."

He knew you better than anyone, and he knew that if you had your way you would be hunting down your kidnappers and getting revenge singlehandedly. He owed it to you to find them, either that or he was just trying to rectify his own mistakes.

"D-don't blame yourself."

Your final words still haunted him, he heard them every day. How could he not blame himself? He could have done so much more, or even better, he could have stopped you from pursuing that distress beacon in the first place.

Another day passed, and he once again found himself sat at your bedside. Even Kylo had to admit that he couldn't do this forever, it wasn't fair on either of you.

"If you stop supporting her, what happens?" He asked the Chief Medical Officer, his eyes not leaving your face.

"Her body has to either sustain itself, or it will fail. But Supreme Leader, you must know that the chances of her surviving are extremely low. In fact, I would say near impossible." He didn't want to get Kylo's hopes up, he understood that. But Kylo believed that your will to survive had brought you this far, and he wasn't ready to give up on you yet.

"Do it." He quietly said, every muscle in his body screaming at him to do something to stop this, but he knew it was necessary. If he lost you, he would never recover, but perhaps this could be the spark you needed to finally wake up and come back to him. Either way, he couldn't allow you to live out the rest of your days unconscious in the med-bay.

A team were gathered, ready to deal with any possible eventuality. They had tried to suggest that the Supreme Leader leaves the room, but Kylo was adamant on staying, because the second you were close to consciousness he would have something they didn't - the Force.

Despite you not being Force sensitive, he could sense your presence from a mile away, and he always knew how you were feeling. It was now his last lifeline to you, if he felt even a spark of life come from you then he wouldn't dare give up on trying to save you.

It all happened so fast, the machines were cut, the only thing left active being you heart rate monitor. The steady beeping immediately began to rise, up and up until it was dangerously high, then suddenly it flatlined.

"She's going into cardiac arrest." The Chief Medical Officer exclaimed, the team sweeping into action to try and save you.

He couldn't get a look in, the sea of bodies surrounding you had his own heart rate rising. Could he have just made a terrible mistake and lost you for good?

When the medical officers stepped back, the only sound filling the room was the monotone beep that symbolised your heart rate.

"I'm sorry Supreme Leader." The Chief Medical Officer spoke quietly, "we'll give you some time."

When everyone else left the room, tears were already uncontrollably pooling in the corners of his eyes. His whole world was shattering before him.

He wasted no time in moving to your bedside and gently taking one of your hands to hold in both of his.

"This can't be it, I can't have failed you again." He whispered, bringing your hand to his lips to press a soft kiss to them. Your hand was still warm, and he couldn't believe he had come so close and still failed to save you.

"Please-" he begged, unsure as to who he was even speaking to now, "please don't take her from me." His voice cracked as the weight of losing you finally hit him like a tonne of bricks.

As if the Force had heard his pleas it called to him, and he listened. It drew him towards you, but he wondered what the point was - it was too late now... But then he felt it, tiny, almost non-existent, but it was there.

The smallest flicker of life remained in you, your will to survive still fighting, but quickly fading. He knew he had to at least try and pull you back.

His hands ever-so-gently released yours, placing it back by your side in favour of placing one of his hands on your chest. He dug deep, deep enough until he could reach that tiny flicker of life within you and he started to pass his energy to you.

Kylo felt himself becoming physically and mentally drained as he passed almost everything he had into you, but when he heard intermittent beeps coming from the heart-rate monitor he knew that he had to push through.

His hand was then met by yours, warm, gentle, alive. Your eyes fluttered open next, your pupils taking a moment to adjust to the harsh light in the room. Usually when people awoke from comas, it would take them weeks, months even, to recover. But you felt reinvigorated, as if you were ready to jump up at a moment's notice and undertake a mission. Whatever Kylo had done hadn't just brought you back to consciousness, it had brought you back to almost full health.

Satisfied that you were alive, and unable to physically give you anyone, Kylo stopped and collapsed to the ground, his breathing laboured as he tried to regain his strength.

"Kylo-" you tried to speak, but your voice manifested as a mere croak, barely audible. Your throat was so dry, you were starving hungry, your limbs were aching, but all you could think about was your husband. He had just saved your life.

"Supreme Leader-" assuming he was about to walk in on a grieving Kylo Ren, the Chief Medical Officer's expression was truly one of shock when he saw the scene before him.

Kylo hunched over on the floor, trying his best to remain conscious after giving up almost his entire life-force to his wife, who was now alive... You were trying your best to sit up, but struggling due to your limbs being out of practise, and all of the machinery you were wired up and attached to.

"I need a full team in here, now!" Was all he could think to yell, and immediately he had doctors and nurses arriving in the room behind, each and every one of them looking just as shocked at the scene before them.

As the Force began to catch up with Kylo and fill his veins once again, he was able to pull himself back to his feet, although he still looked like he could collapse at any given moment. Nevertheless he shoved everyone aside, paying them no mind whilst they tried to read your vitals and work out how in the galaxy you were alive and well suddenly. He moved to your bedside and cupped your face in his hands.

"You're really here?" He quietly asked, part of him thinking that he was dreaming right now.

"Yeah, I'm really here." You whispered back, your voice beginning to sound more recognisable as you now.

He didn't say anything else, he just pulled you close to him and momentarily buried his face in your neck. He usually refused to show such vulnerability when you were around people, but he was beyond caring about that right now.

You could feel his tears dampening your skin, and your hands gently weaved through his hair, soothingly stroking his dark locks to remind him that you really were there. Had you not been so dehydrated, you probably would have also been crying - but in your current state you weren't physically capable of it.

When he became aware of your need for medical attention, he reluctantly pulled back and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before withdrawing to allow the medical staff to do their work.

He stayed by your side for hours, until eventually you insisted on leaving and going back to your quarters. Some things never changed, and Kylo knew that whenever you were in the med-bay for one reason or another you were always keen to leave as soon as possible.

The Chief Medical Officer agreed to your release, but only on the basis that a medical droid be present in your quarters to take your vitals hourly and see to it that you undertake a good diet and stay hydrated. They were also concerned about your mental wellbeing, although everything was seemingly fine, you were overwhelmed and it was more than likely that the aftermath of everything you had been through hadn't hit you yet.

That night you and Kylo didn't say much to each other. You had been somewhat aware whilst you were comatose, and you knew just how much pain he had been in without you. You had bathed, dressed, and simply laid in bed together with him holding you in his arms.

The last time he had properly held you, you had been on the brink of death after days of relentless torture. He had started to accept that he would never hold you again, and it felt surreal that you were here in his arms.

There were so many issues he had to iron out, including brining your captors to justice, but for now you were the only thing on his mind. He never wanted to let you go.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x y/n #kylo ren #kylo ren request #kylo ren reader insert

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ilguna · 4 years

Text

Whist - Chapter One

summary: you can’t protect her forever.

Word Count; 6.5k

Warnings; swearing

NOTES: not a finnick odair x reader. it’s a ‘what if’ series

–

“Good morning.” Finnick’s voice is rough, tired.

You pause the pencil right where it is, looking over to him. He’s got his eyes half-open, squinting at you through the sun rays that are running through the window. For a moment, he lifts himself to see what you’re doing, and then he rests back against the pillow, back to the window.

“Good morning.” you place the pencil down temporarily, running your hand over his forehead, “Still feeling unwell?”

“Little feverish.” he admits, “Nothing I can’t handle. The Capitol will have all the medicine I need, anyway.”

“If you say so.” you give him a sweet smile, turning back to the black book.

You read over the words, trying to recollect your thoughts. After reading over the sentence a third time, it picks up in your mind. You finish it, write the date down, and then close the book for good. You’ll pick it back up when you get back from the Capitol.

“Do you know the time?” Finnick asks.

You turn to the nightstand, sliding the book--with the pencil neatly tucked between the pages--and check the time, “Little past seven. The whole house is awake already.”

“Little past seven?” he repeats, “Maybe I should stay home.”

“It’s likely the medicine that made you sleep in so late, honey.” you say sweetly, slipping out of the bed, “Either way, you have to be there for the reaping. Better not drag your feet.”

“Right.” he agrees, “Start up the shower?”

“Of course.” you agree, heading into the bathroom. You lean into the shower, turn on the faucet to warm, and then leave.

“I’m going to help Alyssum. It’s her first year and all.” you go back over to Finnick, crawling onto the bed long enough to kiss him, “Gotta reassure her and everything.”

“The first is always the worst.” he says.

“Yes, it is.” you agree, “I’ll be back up, holler if you need something.”

“Will do.” he sighs, and right when you make it to the bedroom door, he calls your name. You turn to look at him, seeing a smile on his face, “I love you.”

You smile back, “I love you too, Finn.”

You head out of the room after that, closing the door but not entirely. There’s a small gap between the frame and the door itself. Just in case he does yell, you’ll be able to hear him from the entire house.

Knocking on Alyssum’s door, you wait patiently for her to answer. She doesn’t say anything, opting for swinging the door wide open for you to see her instead. Her eyes are wide, and she’s got two dresses hanging from her arm.

“I don’t know which to choose.”

She holds them up for you to see. The dress on the left is baby pink, with white accents. There’s a ribbon that runs along the middle, and in the back it can be used to tie it up. Like an apron. The dress is long-sleeved, which might be awful in this weather, but even Finnick had managed to catch a cold.

You have a feeling that it might be because of all the time he’s been spending out on the water lately with Reed, Mox and Caspian. You warned all of them to take a coat, just in case they were to fall into the water and get frozen. But none of them listened, and now your husband is at the end of a nasty bug.

The other possibility is that he caught it while he was in the square--the black market of District Four. Again, lately he’s been out there with the boys doing god knows what. But you heard from Mags that people have been catching colds, and with how jam-packed the square is constantly, he probably got it there.

You’re just glad that Mox and Reed seem to be in good health.

The pink dress also has a nice trim along the bottom. When you reach out to run the fabric between your fingers, it’s soft. Might even be easily damaged. Things will easily stick to it, but at least it’ll be warm. You can already picture the possibilities of accessories that she could pair with this.

As for the second dress, it’s strangely familiar. You can’t place your finger on it though, even while you look over the material. It’s a little more stiff, a slight gold color. Black trim and ribbon, and it’s not long-sleeved. It’s got the arms of a regular t-shirt.

“What’s the weather like today?” you ask her.

“Hot.” she says, “It’ll start warming up around the time we leave.”

“Which is what? Eleven? Twelve?”

She nods.

“Then I’d say to go with the gold dress.” you pick it up from her fingers and hold it against her body, “Make sure you choose something black that will go with it.”

“If I find a black ribbon, will you tie it in my hair?” she asks hopefully.

“I’ll do your hair entirely.” you promise, “All Capitol fancy.”

Alyssum has a smile spread over her face, “Okay.”

She turns back into her room, shutting the door. Turns out she’s not as nervous as you thought.

As you go down the steps, you come to realize that she doesn’t really have a reason to be afraid. She’s surrounded by older people who have either been inside of the games or trained relentlessly in case they would be. And when Alyssum finally turned ten two years ago, all of you jumped on her back at once.

Of course, she’s been being fed little things since she was seven. You started out with the easy things, like how to tie the ‘fun’ knots, and how to start a fire. And ever since, you had a theme with the year. When she turned eight, if she wasn’t in school, she was on a boat with you and Finnick learning to fish or she was tying knots. She was already a strong swimmer, so there wasn’t much to worry about with that.

When she turned nine, you took it upon yourself to teach her how to use a knife. Places to hide one, how to get it out easily. You bought her a pocket knife from the square for her to have. Even if she wouldn’t be allowed to have it at school, it was good practice. She carries it with her everywhere now.

That same year, you and Finnick had taught her how to use a spear, which she didn’t like very much. So then, you two switched to the swords. And you’re talking about the illegal ones also from the square. However, you weren’t buying them, you were only borrowing them from some old gal that you’ve known for a while now.

On top of the sword, someone offered up a bow in trade for teaching his daughter how to do it in a way that would make her want to learn how. Then someone else pitched in a dummy and a couple of target stands. That summer was by far the craziest.

Then she turned ten, and you started to teach her other things. You wanted to ease her into the idea of having to kill someone. So, instead you taught her the anatomy of the body. You showed off exactly where the major arteries were and told her that if she were to ever get hurt there, she would have to act quick.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’d likely die unless she knew what she was doing with medical stuff. So, you brought her to the local clinic that year and convinced some of the staff to allow her to watch how it was done. In return, you funded some medical supplies.

You thought it would be better if she learned it straight from a professional. Especially with practices like District Four’s. They’ve all been handed down from generation to generation. All the shortcuts to getting better, the medicines to avoid--namely morphling because of how addictive it is--and what to and not to do.

She learned how to do stitches, and by the time the school started up again in the fall, she answered all your questions flawlessly. When you asked her how to treat stab wounds, the words would come from her mouth before she realized it. At first, she thought it was embarrassing, until everyone around her was so excited.

Reed had thought you were the prodigy, with how you learned and never complained. But with Alyssum, she was always so eager to learn more. And the way she retained information too was a big deal. No matter the situation, if you ask her a question about a past lesson, she’ll know it.

When she turned eleven last year, that’s when you started to get more serious. More survival skills that would help her in the long run. What berries looked like, what leaves looked like. What food would be useful inside of the arena, the three rule especially.

And with her turning twelve this year, you finally decided that she couldn’t be babied any longer. She could like all the little kid stuff, but she’s eligible for the games. The chances of her getting picked on her first year are so slim that you won’t even consider the possibility. But you took the precaution of teaching her how to fight anyway.

Most of the time it was plastic swords and knives. You’d set up a mock hunger games with you, Finnick, Reed, Mox, Caspian and his family, and her just a little outside the gates of victor’s village. In the middle would lay everything that she would need. And you focused on the if factor. If she ran to the middle rather than away, she would have to act quick.

None of you went easy on her. You all might have tens of years of age on her. It’s clearly unfair with the first thought. Then the second rolls in. That the career kids have been taught this stuff since they were young. This is their first nature. They’re going to think like the predators. They’re going to be bigger than her, smarter than her, and more skilled than her.

And hell, they wouldn’t give a damn if she was twelve or seventeen. If they were to see her face, they would go straight for the kill. Unless she made allies.

At first, Alyssum wasn’t any good at the fighting, but she gradually got better. She’s fairly shorter than all of you, so the first place she goes when she swings is the legs. It’s not a bad move.

You’re just happy that after everything that has happened, she’s realized that running to the middle is always the biggest gamble. Reed and Mox are sure to enforce that every year when they’re in front of the television set. They point out every little mistake of the tributes that run to the middle.

So now, she roots for the people that run away and get frustrated with those who head in.

Anyway, as you were saying, she has no reason to be afraid. She’s been growing up with it for a while now. The questions, the training, the lessons, the mock hunger games. She’s no professional, and she’s still got a lot to learn, but she’s getting there.

It’s not like she has much to worry about this year. Her name is going to be in there only once. As the years climb--you’ll start to worry. Until then, she knows as much as you can afford to teach her.

She’s even had practice with real weapons. Ones that can kill.

“How’s Alyssum doing?” Mox asks, he’s waiting at the bottom of the staircase, nibbling on his fingers. You reach over, pulling them from his mouth.

“Getting dressed. You should too. The hosts might talk about us since Alyssum is now eligible for the games.”

In the kitchen is Reed, hovering over a plate of pancakes. On the stove sits a pot, and when you take a peek, you’re able to see that it’s soup for Finnick.

“Are we still quarantining Finnick?” Reed asks.

“He’s feeling better today, so I think he can come down.” you reach over for the coffee, thanking Reed when he passes over the cream, “But he might stay home this year. I think he’s still sore.”

“He nearly died, so it makes sense.” Reed says, “Looked like you when you had typhoid.”

You pause for a moment, raising your head as you think.

You suppose that’s right. He was pale, it was hard for him to move but he made a point to. He didn’t like it when you fussed over him and consistently insisted that you spent your day doing something else rather than showing fantastic bedside manner. To no avail, though. You don’t have much to do these days besides show Alyssum how things are done.

“Strange.” you tell Reed, raising the coffee to your lips. The cream has cooled it considerably, and you’re able to drink the entire thing without burning your tongue.

You grab another mug of it for Finnick, since he’s going to need all the energy he can get with how he is. The medicine that the clinic had prescribed him has made him all sorts of tired. Which he can’t really afford to be today, or any other reaping day. It would be awful for the cameras to zoom in on him and make fun of him the same way they do Haymitch.

Mox has joined the kitchen, and you pass him on your way out. You go up the stairs and straight to the bedroom. You can hear the occasional large splatter of water as Finnick rinses his hair. You knock on the door once or twice, slipping inside.

“Brought coffee.” you tell him.

The sliding door opens and he holds his hands out for the mug. You pass it over, watching as he does the exact same thing that you did. And when he’s done, he gives it right back with a smile.

“Thank you.”

“Want more?” you ask.

“I’ll get more when I go downstairs.”

“Alright.” you grab a few things out of the bathroom drawers. A brush, some hair ties, a curling iron, hairspray.

All while you’re grabbing these things, you can’t help but to feel a little guilty. The reaping is no time to look pretty. With a brand new dress and nicely done hair, it’ll make it look like you’re glorifying the games.

But everyone has to know that you’d never do such a thing. You haven’t taken the games lightly ever. You take your job seriously, and you showed them when you sacrificed thousands of dollars just to get medication inside of the arena for Annie. Without a single clue of knowing whether or not it would actually work.

Alyssum gets nice dresses because she doesn’t have to take hand-me-downs anymore. They’re not expensive in any way, and they’re not imported from the Capitol either. None of your clothing is. Hell, you’re supporting the local businesses, the ones that struggle without you going in to buy a new pair of socks or shoes or underwear for your family.

And you might as well spoil Alyssum, because she’ll never have to live through what you older kids had to. She’ll never have to worry about selling the living room furniture, pawning off family jewels and getting rid of her toys just to make that month’s rent.

“When are you getting ready?” Finnick asks, shutting off the shower.

“After I do Alyssum’s hair.” you tell him, “How are you feeling?”

“A little better, but still sick.”

“We could always tell the peacekeepers that you’re sick, since you are.”

Finnick frowns a bit, drying off his body with a towel, “Then that would seal my fate on not going.”

“I want you to heal.” you press a hand to his chest, “And you can’t do that if you’re running around with me in the Capitol.”

“I’ll manage. I don’t want to miss Alyssum's first reaping anyway.”

“Whatever you say.” you give him a smile, “Your coffee mug is on the counter. When you go downstairs, make sure to tell Mox everything is fine. Don’t go to Mags or Annie’s without me.”

“Sure.” he says, and pulls you in for a quick kiss.

Once you pull away, you leave the bathroom, then the bedroom. Down the hall and straight to Alyssum’s bedroom. You hardly knock before opening the door, revealing Alyssum to be standing in front of a mirror. She’s already got her black shoes on.

“Can you tie the back ribbon?” she asks.

You set everything down on the bed, tying the ribbon, and then getting her seated in front of the mirror. You pull half of her hair up loosely, putting the hair tie in. Then, you neatly tie the ribbon around the bands. After, you begin to curl her hair at the ends.

“Ask me questions.” Alyssum insists.

You give a smile, “What are the ways to clean water?”

“Boiling, iodine or a few drops of chlorine, but not enough to get you sick.” Alyssum says.

“Why do we clean water?”

“To get rid of the bacteria, otherwise we can end up with a ton of viruses--like typhoid, cholera, salmonella and a couple of others. They become more deadly the longer they’re untreated.”

“How can we start a fire?”

“Flint and a rock, typically.” she thinks for a moment, “A lighter, matches if it’s available. Sticks. Or glass and the sun, but that takes a while.”

“Name the big arteries.” you let a curl fall, shaking the hairspray and then spraying it on.

“The one in your neck, on your thighs and the arms.” she says.

“If someone pins you down, how do you get free?”

“Buck your hips and then flip on top of the person.” she says.

“What’s the one berry you don’t want to ever eat inside of the arena?”

This one takes her a moment, “...nightlock?”

“Yes.” you smile at her through the mirror, “What does it look like?”

“They appear black, but once squished they’re red.”

“Alright, why don’t we run to the cornucopia?”

“Easy, because the careers go there, and since I’m small, I won’t make it. So, I go when they’re not there instead.”

You’re proud of her for this. To know that she should wait until the careers have gone out and started their hunting. They go out at night, looking for easy fires to catch. Kill the easy tributes. Depending on how far they’ve gone away from the cornucopia, they’ll either head back or stay in the woods for a night. Then they’ll pick up where they left off, and end up right back at the cornucopia by the end of the night.

“All done.” you tell her.

She turns her head in the mirror, looking at what you’ve done for her. She springs to her feet and takes you in for a long hug. When she lets go, you gather your things to head back to the bedroom so you can get ready yourself.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.” you tell her, “Go study with Finnick some, okay?”

She beams, and follows you out the door. She takes a turn for the stairs and you head to your bedroom. You shut the door behind you, drop everything off in the bathroom, then pick out a simple outfit. Once it’s all neatly laid out, you take your shower, cleaning your hair.

You dry it, carefully dry as much as you can, and then you leave the rest to air-dry. You pull on the simple flowing tank top with the stitched back. Then the black jeans and a pair of nice tennis shoes. Showing up to the reaping in casual clothing stopped being a heinous act a while ago.

Finally, you go downstairs. Alyssum is eating breakfast, Finnick is enjoying a second or maybe a third cup of coffee, asking Alyssum questions. Every now and then, the other two will pitch in. Once Finnick realizes you’re there, the two of you pack up some breakfast for Mags and head out the door.

“She’s getting better.” Finnick says, “I had her show me a few knots. She’s got quick fingers.”

“I hope so.” you laugh, he joins in.

You and Finnick enter the house after a couple of knocks so Mags can know that you’re there. She’s already waiting in her living room, a book in her hand. You and him wait patiently in the doorway. She closes the book, and then gives you both a welcoming smile.

Finnick helps her to the table while you lay out Mags’ food. She sits, eats in silence while she reads. Finnick finishes his coffee, you scrunch your hair with your hand to try and give it some character.

Before you know it, you and Finnick are taking Mags back to your house, and then heading towards Annie’s. Just as you reach the door, Annie’s mom sticks her head out and shakes her head.

“Annie’s got the flu, the peacekeepers already know. Thank you, though.” she gave a kind smile and then shut the door in your face.

Right back to the house, it gave you extra time to do something to your hair and eat. So, that’s exactly what you did. Curled your hair like you did to Alyssum’s, put on a little makeup, and right back down the stairs. After breakfast, you played a memory game with Alyssum, Reed and Mox.

Then time was up, with only thirty minutes to get to the stage. All of you headed out as one big bunch. With Finnick holding your right hand and Alyssum holding onto the left. Ahead of you guys were the other victors of four--the ones that hardly glance at you all.

Since it’s Alyssum’s first year, it took a little longer to get her signed in, but right after you went to your regular spot behind the cover near the staircase up to the stage. Mags went up without you guys, but you hung back to talk to your family, as usual.

It’s the normal nonsensical stuff that wasn’t able to be fit on the walk here. Casual banter between all of you. The peacekeeper at the top of the staircase is kind enough to inform you guys when there’s ten minutes left. Time to wrap it up.

“Okay, Aly.” you hold out your arms, “How are you feeling?”

She throws herself into your arms, squeezing tightly, “Little nervous, but it’s natural, right?”

“Yes it is, and it’s okay to be nervous.” you kiss the top of her head.

Mox, Reed and Finnick move in to join the hug. You all hold tight for a moment, and then pull away.

“I’ll make sure to stand so you can see me.” Alyssum promises.

“Sounds good to me.” you give her one last smile, “Good luck.”

Reed takes her hand when she turns around, waving goodbye. You and Finnick head up the cracked stone steps, nodding to the peacekeeper when you pass him. The two of you make your way over to where the victors, mayor and Elysia sits. You sit between Finnick and Elysia.

“Alyssum’s first year.” Elysia whispers.

“Yes it is, she’s grown so much.” you tilt your head a little.

Alyssum has found a friend, and the two of them are talking about Aly’s hair for a moment. Then, they bid your bothers goodbye, heading to the twelve year old section, right up from. They slide in right in place, and just as she promised, you have a clear look at them.

Aly and her friend hold hands, and the two of them chat while the rest of the sections. Along the outside stands parents and bystanders alike. Your brothers are where they always are, behind the boys section and standing out like sore thumbs. They’re dressed better than most of the people around them.

Right as the last few people file in, Caspian comes up beside Reed, and the two of them start talking too.

The mayor takes a deep breath, and then gets up. She readjusts her blazer as she heads to the microphone. You look over to the camera, noticing how it’s on you guys right now. There’s a long moment of eye contact before the camera is the first to break it, focusing on the mayor.

“Happy hunger games.” her voice echoes, and by her tone, you can tell she either really hates her job, or she’s tired of having to introduce the games every year.

She launches into the speech on the dark days, and to reinforce it, she shows a video made by the Capitol, narrated by Snow. It’s all required, she doesn’t have much of a choice. When the video is over, she hands it over to Elysia.

This is when a sick feeling washes over you. You fan your face with your hand, thinking that the dizziness will fade, but it only grows. The nausea is hardly bearable.

“I think I might be sick.” you admit, and Finnick apologizes. He then holds out a water bottle that he had brought just in case any of you needed it. You take a couple gulps of it, glad that it eases some of the knots in your stomach.

“Happy hunger games.” Elysia says, her voice isn’t as excited this year. You can’t even see the look on her face, but you can only guess that she looks tired too, “And may the odds be ever in your favor. As usual, ladies first.”

She moves over to the girls bowl, picking out a random slip of paper. You can see Alyssum has her eyes glued to it, eyebrows drawn together. Elysia moves back over to the mic and carefully removes the black tape to reveal the name.

She inhales, like she’s going to say the name. Then, she deflates, the mic catches the wind. Elysia seems to go rigid after that, eyes glued to the paper slip between her fingers. You squint, trying to catch the name, but it’s too far away.

Ten seconds pass, then twenty. The head peacekeeper clears his throat, letting her know to get a move on. It’s enough to snap her of her daze, but when she speaks, it’s barely above a whisper.

“The girl’s tribute this year is uh--” she pauses for a moment, taking in a deep breath, but lets out half of it again before she speaks, “--Alyssum Gallows.” her voice drops out during the last time.

The two cameras on either side of the stage turn in different directions. With one looking in the crowd for your dear baby sister, and the other landing straight on you and Finnick.

You jerk in your chair like you’re going to get up, but Finnick holds you back, clearly as stunned as you are.

The air is still.

Your eyes manage to find your brothers and their friend, standing there just as stunned as you are. Mox hasn’t started to cry yet, his eyes are wide and his mouth is open. While Reed looks like he’s paled several colors, as white as a corpse.

The dizziness comes back, bigger than ever.

‘No,’ you think, not being able to bring yourself to shake your head, ‘She’s twelve. Her name is in there once, she’s twelve.’

“Come on, honey.” Elysia’s voice is soft, like silk.

Alyssum can hardly pry her fingers from her friends. She stiffly moves into the aisle where the peacekeepers are, waiting to escort her to the stage.

‘Someone volunteer. Please, someone volunteer.’

She reaches the steps and she’s careful not to scuff her brand new black shoes. When she’s at the top, her eyes find yours, and it’s almost like a reflection. The amount of horror you feel is replicated on her face. Only, she’s got tears forming, and you can’t even bring yourself to move.

“Right here.” Elysia stops her in front of the bowl, going back to the microphone, “Any volunteers?” she urges.

You’re too old to volunteer. Disregarding the fact that you’re a victor yourself, you’re too old. If you were younger, you’d be jumping right now for her. You’d go back into the arena twenty times just so she could have a normal life here.

The silence is deafening and clear; there are no volunteers and she must carry on whether she likes it or not.

Alyssum glances over her shoulder again, and you’re able to see the tears running down her face.

“Now to the boys.” Elysia is defeated, and she heads over to the boys bowl. She doesn’t dally with this one either, pulling out the name and heading to the microphone.

She removes the tape, “Rigg Estridge.”

You find yourself selfishly wishing for an older boy. But watching the way the crowd moves, it’s another twelve year old.

You bury your face in your hands, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. This can’t be happening. You can’t be getting two twelve year olds. Their first year of the reaping, and one of them is your sister.

When you look again, a short redhead with curly hair is being moved down the aisle. Without a prompt, he heads up the steps and stops in front of the boys bowl.

Once again, Elysia asks if there’s any volunteers. There’s more silence, one look to Reed and Mox tells you that they wish they were fifteen years younger too. They desperately want to be in the same boat as Alyssum like you do.

With no volunteers, Elysia tells them to shake hands. Alyssum moves forward with a shaky palm. There’s shiny tear streaks on her cheeks, but her face is serious. The boy looks more shaken than she does.

After that, it’s over. And the tributes are being escorted off stage and into the justice building. There, they will wait for their friends and family to say their final goodbyes.

You stand from your chair, running your fingers through your hair as you try to get a grip on what just happened. Finnick wraps his arms around you tightly as a hug.

“I’m going to the Capitol.” He says.

“I expected no less.” You tell him, wrapping only one arm around him.

Elysia looks even worse than she did before, “(Y/n)—I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry—“

“You didn’t know.” You tell her, eyes fluttering for a moment.

The dizziness hasn’t subsided. In fact, the world feels like it’s spinning out of control. You look to where your brothers had been, but they’re long gone. Likely trying to get to Alyssun.

“We need to see her.” You tell Finnick, “I have to be together with them all one last time.”

You make him let go, heading down the same steps that the mayor had taken, disregarding everyone that tries to reach out to you. One peacekeeper tries to offer his condolences, but you slap his hand away and move right inside of the building.

The ones guarding the door move out of the way, and when you enter the room, your brothers are already there. With you as an addition to the room, their bodies turn, and you’re running the small distance to bring them so close to your body.

“Finnick is coming with.”

“Good.” Reed says, and then they let go.

You let them talk to her since you’ll be seeing her for the next week. This is their goodbye, not yours. Not just yet.

“You listen to (Y/n).” Reed tells her, “She knows what she’s doing, and she’s going to try her hardest to get you everything you need.”

She nods, it won’t be difficult for her.

The door opens a second time, and you look over to see that not only is it Finnick, but Mags is on his arm.

“You can win.” Reed says, his hands are on her shoulders, “You’re smart, you’ve been learning all of this information for years now. The only disadvantage you have is that you’re small, but even that has advantages.”

“Mags has a token for you.” Finnick says, your brothers move aside.

Mags pulls something out of her pocket, weighing it in her hand carefully before she holds it out for Alyssum to take it out of Mags’ palm. Alyssum reaches up with shaky fingers to carefully bring the jewelry out.

There’s a special gem attached to the necklace. The gem is expensive, and you recognize it almost immediately. It’s tanzanite. And just by the look of it--how polished it is--it’s new. And it costs more than her dress. Not only all of that, you recognize it for a whole separate reason.

Like how you had your mother’s ring for your games. She’s getting mom’s most expensive necklace. One that was given to her by grandma.

Reed and Mox seem to remember too, but Alyssum has no clue. She turns the necklace over in her hand gently.

“It was mom’s.” you let her know, “And grandma’s too.”

“Oh.” her voice is soft, and she wraps her fingers around it, looking at Mags, “Thank you.”

“She was planning on surprising you with it after the reaping.” Finnick says, and you all know what he was implying. A gift for after, when she hadn’t been reaped and survived her first round. Instead, she’ll be taking it as a token now.

The doors swing open again, and you watch as Alyssum is shown some sort of affection. A kiss on the forehead, a long hug. Until the four of you are huddling in for the last time. The peacekeepers are surprisingly patient with this long goodbye.

“I love you, Alyssum.” Reed tells her, and Mox agrees, “We’ll be cheering you on.”

Reed and Mox go to leave before you, Finnick or Mags budge from where you stand. You crouch down, trying to get to her height.

“On the train station, there will be cameras. The whole country is watching us right now, so you need to do me a big favor and not cry on that platform, okay?” you fix her hair, “You can cry as soon as the doors are shut, but you need to have a brave face until then.”

“But the reaping--”

“I know about the reaping, and that’s okay. No one reacted well when you were called, not even me. It’s okay to make mistakes, but we need to start not making them anymore.”

She nods, “Yeah.”

“I have to go, okay? I’ll be at the train waiting for you. Elysia will be with you, stick close. Don’t fight the peacekeepers, they’re on our side.”

You stand up, and Aly hugs Mags for the last time. After that, the three of you are heading out. The doors slam shut behind you, rattling the door frame. Outside stands your brothers who had been waiting patiently.

You take in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down.

“We have to start heading to the station.” Reed says, squeezing you tightly, “We’ll see you there.”

“What about Mags?”

“I can walk her.” a peacekeeper volunteers, you know who it is.

“Thank you.” you place a hand on his arm.

There’s a car that’s already waiting for the two of you. In passing, you tell Elysia that she should probably keep quiet inside of the car when it comes to the two of them. Inside the train is when you’ll introduce and begin to get them used to the idea of it all. Other than that, they just need a moment of silence to collect their thoughts.

The car ride to the train consists of you biting your nails until you finally decide to stop, knowing that your stylists friends will be upset if they have nothing to work with.

Finnick holds your hand tightly.

“The Capitol is going to love all of this.” you tell him, “(Y/n)’s little sister. The Executioner’s twelve year old sister is going inside of the games.”

“They’re probably going to be comparing you two the entire time.”

“Yes, they probably are.” you agree, “And I can’t wait to see what Caesar Flickerman has to say about all of this.”

The car makes it to the train station, you and Finnick get out, go up the steps and then into the train. You don’t stand on the platform with the tributes, Elysia does. Then, they come inside after the final glance after the reaping.

You run your fingers through your hair, taking a seat by the door.

You need to focus on her training score right now. If she scores high, then she’ll be in the clear. It’s not often the first years get something so high. They’re expected to get something so low, anything below an eight. But with all that you’ve been teaching her, she should hit the eight mark.

And if she does something flashy inside of the private session, that will increase her score, just like how it increased yours.

It’s a while before the tributes have even shown up at the train station. By the sound of it, there’s a lot of people out there. You and Finnick don’t dare to peek your heads around the corner, though. You strictly stay inside, waiting and listening for Elysia to tell them to say their goodbyes.

Another ten minutes later, their car has finally shown up, you lean your head against the wall, closing your eyes. You can hear Alyssum’s shoes against the stone steps, and how they crunch when they come to a stop.

There’s sniffling coming from someone, but you don’t think it’s Aly, but the other boy--Rigg. He doesn’t know not to cry, you weren’t there to tell him. For now, you’ll let him give off his look.

Soon, they’re being brought inside. The doors shut, and you’re hugging a crying Alyssum, pulling her onto your lap as you rub her back. You let her get it all out, telling Finnick to go ahead and start with the boy, since he doesn’t look like he knows anything.

Finnick gives you a kiss on the forehead, and then leaves with the boy to take him into a different car. Elysia has already left to do whatever, you’re not too sure what that is exactly.

You try your best to comfort Alyssum, but you can’t help but to think that she’s not going to make it. You can’t tell her that, she has to realize that for herself. But there’s eighteen year old careers waiting for her in the Capitol. There’s the older kids from other districts too, but they’re not nearly as ruthless.

Careers are taught to think of their fellow tributes as animals, not people.

You scoop up Alyssum like a baby, carrying her to your mentor room. Along the way, peacekeepers open the doors for you. When you get inside, you lay Alyssum down on the bed, and then you slide in next to her, pulling her to your side as you run your fingers through her hair soothingly.

It’s not long before she falls asleep, exhausted.

#ilguna #whist #whist chapter one #lacuna au

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Charlie's Story – Thriving after Leukemia and Relapse

New Story has been published on https://enzaime.com/charlies-story-thriving-leukemia-relapse/

Charlie's Story – Thriving after Leukemia and Relapse

When Charlie Rider began receiving care for acute lymphoblastic leukemia at Dana-Farber/Boston Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center at age 4, his mother, Caroline, sent email updates to her large family and circle of friends. After a brief remission, Charlie’s cancer came back, and he returned for more treatment, including a stem cell transplant. Caroline’s reflections grew into a touching chronicle of four years in the life of a child with cancer. In 2011, when Charlie was 8 years old, we interviewed him, his brothers Harry and Max, and his parents Caroline and Mike about the family’s cancer journey. Today, Charlie is a healthy 14-year-old and remains cancer-free.

This four-part series includes excerpts from Caroline Rider’s email updates, video reflections by family members, and interviews with clinicians at Dana-Farber/Boston Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center.

Charlie at the Jimmy Fund Clinic Charlie is diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL) and undergoes two years of treatment at Dana-Farber/Boston Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center. Below are excerpts from a series of emails that Caroline Rider wrote to her extended family and circle of friends.

10/16/06 Our Charlie has been diagnosed with leukemia. We know what a shock it can be to hear this. The type of leukemia he has is called ALL and it is the most common and the most treatable. The good news is that we live close to the one of the best children’s cancer centers in the world, and Charlie has an excellent prognosis. He will be in Children’s Hospital for at least a month. When he is discharged, he will be in remission. Once he goes home, he will return to Dana-Farber’s Jimmy Fund Clinic once a week for two years.

10/27/06 Charlie is HOME!!!

After being told that he would have to be in the hospital for at least a month, the doctors say he is doing so well that he could go home. We are thrilled because we all get to sleep under the same roof again. We are also TERRIFIED because we have a long road ahead. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RP1Hod6_EZU 11/05/06 Charlie started to lose his hair this week. We don’t have pets, but our furniture looks like we have shedding cats in the house. It was driving him crazy so he asked if he could get it cut. His Aunt Krista obliged with a backyard buzz cut. His hair is now only about a ¼ inch long, but soon he won’t have any hair at all. The new look suits him. He has a beautiful round head.

11/18/06 Charlie is in remission! A recent bone marrow biopsy showed there are no cancer cells in his body. Alas, the doctors know from years of studying this disease that there are still some leukemia cells lurking somewhere. The crafty little devils are waiting for us to drop our guard so they can attack again. But we won’t let them. That is why Charlie is in the hospital again – this time to get a massive dose of chemo.

12/21/06 Other than the first few numbing days after Charlie’s diagnosis, the past few weeks have been the hardest. Charlie had nine Jimmy Fund Clinic visits in three weeks (four of them surgical procedures). I have never felt so bone tired in my whole life.

Charlie has not been his happy, charming self and that has been hard to watch. He has been very clingy, needy, whiny, angry, and at times in pain. I have found it difficult to get to know the other parents at the clinic because, frankly, I have a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that my child is sick.

2/05/07 We continue to make weekly visits to the Jimmy Fund Clinic where every single person there is truly amazing. What a place! I don’t know how they do it day in and day out, but they will all always have a special place in our hearts.

3/02/07 I find myself referring to situations as BD and AD (Before and After Diagnosis). Our life is certainly not what it was BD, but we seem to have found a sort of normalcy that works for us. Charlie is doing well … considering.

During the first few weeks, every time a doctor or nurse came in the room I really believed that they were going to say, “We are so sorry. There has been a huge mistake. Your child is perfectly healthy and you are free to go.” But after six months it has finally sunk in that this is happening to us.

9/09/07 Love and War

For a few weeks, Charlie had excruciating leg pain as a result of his medications. Once while his visiting nurse, Kathie, was here, Charlie was complaining about the pain. Kathie explained that it was probably the bone marrow regenerating itself. The next day Charlie said, “Mum, my bow and arrow are really hurting again.”

10/12/07 From the beginning Mike and I talked about how one day we would like to give back to the Jimmy Fund Clinic and Dana Farber and Children’s Hospital. Since we don’t have deep pockets, building a new research wing is unlikely. However, we have just been invited to join the Pediatric Patient Family Advisory Council.

This is a group of doctors, nurses, administrators, bereaved parents, parents of children who have completed treatment, and parents like Mike and me whose children are still in treatment. We attended our first meeting last month and it was very interesting. The main function of the council is to make the whole experience at JFC better.

Stuck in a Moment

One of my favorite songs is “Stuck in a Moment” by U2. It begins, “I am not afraid of anything in this world. There’s nothing you can throw at me that I haven’t already heard.” I thought that was true until October 12, 2006. During the first month of Charlie’s illness, we survived on adrenaline, fear, and the unending support of all of you. I do feel less scared now. I hope we never have to face anything else like this again, but if something does happen I know we can handle it.

Luke, I Am Your Father

During Charlie’s last lumbar puncture (spinal tap), his nurse, Mary, said the recovery room nurse had a tough time waking him up from the anesthesia. Mary just happened by, and knowing Charlie’s love of anything Star Wars, she whispered to him in a deep voice, “Luke, I am your father.” Charlie opened his eyes and said, “Mary, do you even know what episode that is from?”

Wisdom from Our Poet Laureate

A few weeks ago Charlie said to me, “Mum, I feel really weird. The whole inside of me feels really angry, but the whole outside of me feels really happy. I am all confused.”

12/08/08 The following words are the happiest I have ever written: CHARLIE IS CURED!

He received his last dose of chemo at home the day after Thanksgiving. We are thrilled beyond words but I am also feeling a ton of other emotions that I didn’t really expect: happy and sad, numb and exhilarated, confused and focused, hopeful and fearful, calm and anxious, relieved and scared, anchored and adrift.

How do you thank the medical professionals who saved your child’s life? We have lived under the watchful eyes of some of the best doctors and nurses in the world. Moving away from that security is a scary thing. And there is an ever-so-slim chance of relapse.

Looking back, I am amazed that we are all sane. I took my cues from Charlie. Even on his darkest, weakest days, he somehow mustered the strength to carry on. He is the bravest person I know.

Part 2: Relapse and Stem Cell Transplant Charlie at Dana-Farber/Boston Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Charlie at Dana-Farber/Boston Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Charlie’s cancer returns and he undergoes a stem cell transplant at Dana-Farber/Boston Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center. Charlie will need to spend several months in the hospital in preparation for the stem cell transplant and for a period of time after transplant.

5/21/09 It is with the heaviest of hearts that we write to tell you our Charlie’s leukemia has returned. Needless to say we are all – including his doctors – stunned. His new protocol will most likely include stronger drugs than he took the last time, and it may even entail a bone marrow transplant.

5/31/09 Charlie started treatment on May 23. His doctors worked very hard to get him into a clinical trial that includes a new experimental drug they are very optimistic about. The protocol includes three 36-day blocks of treatment.

After Charlie has completed all three blocks he will start the bone marrow transplant process. This begins with five consecutive days of full body radiation. If all goes well, he will have the transplant, then he will be in isolation in the hospital for four to six weeks. After discharge, he will be in isolation at home for six months to a year.

We have been teaching our boys how to play poker, and even as novices they realize we have been dealt a lousy hand. 6/20/09 Being in the hospital with Charlie for nearly five weeks is finally getting to me. At least Mike and I and Harry and Max get to go home, but home is a hollow and strange place. Every time I go in Charlie’s bedroom or see his backpack hanging behind the kitchen door, I burst into tears.

Harry and Max were not bone marrow matches for Charlie, but the transplant team has found over 900 potential donors. They will cull the list to weed out all but the most perfect matches.

6/28/09 We have reached the end of the first chemo cycle, and Charlie has only gone into partial remission. Full remission is required for a the transplant, so his doctors have decided to bring out the big guns and change his current protocol to one that is much more aggressive.

Lego Master

The staff at Children’s have been telling Charlie he has done so much with Legos that he should have a show. Well, now it is official. When Mike and Charlie returned to the hospital after Charlie’s first furlough, they found the following invitation waiting for them: 7/21/09 Today marks nine weeks to the day that Charlie was admitted to the hospital. The most important news is that he has gone into remission. Also, the transplant team found a donor who is a perfect match. He is a 27-year-old man from somewhere in the United States.

8/24/09 A big poster on Charlie’s door reads “Happy Transplant Day” and it is adorned with stars and pictures of Legos. Charlie received his new bone marrow cells (also known as stem cells) right on schedule. The transplant took about four hours, and other than some nausea and fatigue, he is doing quite well.

It really hit me that a healthy stranger had checked himself into a hospital and suffered a few days of pain and discomfort in order to save my child. I wanted to hug him and tell him that I love him.

With all that Charlie has been through, getting his new cells was actually quite anti-climactic. The cells arrived in a bag (the same as what all blood products arrive in) and they went directly into his central line just like any other IV medication. As I am sure you can imagine, though, the process to get to the actual transplant is much more involved. 9/11/09 Nothing but Blue Skies Skin

One weird thing I wasn’t expecting was the change in Charlie’s appearance after the transplant. Except for a couple of rogue strands, all of his eyelashes and eyebrows had fallen out. His skin was a decidedly blue color and his eyes were freaky. His eyes can look brown, grey or green, depending on the time of day and/or his clothing. However, after the transplant they looked translucent. It was as though I could see into his soul.

Medical Ease

A “new normal” conversation I had with one of Charlie’s nurses:

Nurse: “Charlie has been in a fair amount of pain today, so I think it is time to hook him up to a personal pump for morphine. Would you like him to get a continuous drip with that as well?”

Me: “No. I think we’ll just start with the pump and perhaps order the drip later.” We might as well be ordering bacon and eggs with a side of hash browns. I hate that I know this stuff.

9/22/09 Charlie’s new bone marrow has engrafted, which means the new cells are taking hold. Of course there are still a lot of risks to face in the coming months, but this is a major step towards overall success.

9/25/09 CHARLIE IS HOME! He arrived at about 2 p.m. and immediately began playing with his brothers as though no time had passed. Charlie’s return feels like a rebirth. We made so many preparations for his return, and we are exhausted. However, we are finally all together again and we couldn’t be happier.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GM-BNObCz_g8/8/10 Well, it’s official! After a long year of isolation, Charlie no longer has any restrictions or precautions. He can now do whatever, go wherever, or eat whatever he wants (subject to parental approval, of course).

We celebrated by going out to dinner. We ate in a busy restaurant and Charlie ordered his first fountain drink in more than a year. Later we walked to a local bakery and ate cannolis, another formerly forbidden delight. Perhaps the best part about the end of isolation is that we can now have our friends and family in the house again. On Saturday morning all three boys called their friends and said, “Come on over.”

10/12/10 It’s hard to believe, but four years ago today Charlie was first diagnosed with cancer. He turned 8 last week, so for exactly half of his life he has been battling cancer or dealing with the repercussions of the various treatments. I am thrilled to report that Charlie is doing GREAT! To look at him you would never know the hell he has been through. He is happy, healthy, smart, and really enjoying life. He loves school, and friends, and baseball, and everything that 8-year-old boys are supposed to love.

Life’s a Party

So, my dear friends, parting is such sweet sorrow. Writing these updates has been a lifeline for me, and I will miss sharing them with you. But I am grateful that there is no longer a need to keep you informed of our life with cancer. Instead I hope to stay in touch with you all “just because.”

Part 4: Looking Back: The Rider Family’s Cancer Journey Charlie Rider Charlie Rider In this final installment, Caroline Rider reflects on Charlie’s cancer journey, and the impact it has had on the family. Charlie’s cancer has remained in remission for the two years since coming home from his stem cell transplant.

When I go back and read my own words about Charlie’s experience, I wonder how we all survived. But survive we did. In fact, I would argue that we thrived.

I can’t quite put my finger on it, but when your child gets diagnosed with a life-threatening disease, all of the important things come crisply into focus and the other things recede into the background.

Although it was very hard to learn Charlie had cancer, his experience the first time was good. He only spent 3 1/2 weeks in the hospital and he was a textbook case with very few setbacks. The relapse was much harder. This time, he spent six months in the hospital and had a lot of related problems. I used to wonder, how much more can his body take? In the early days after diagnosis, we asked our doctors how Charlie got this disease. They said: Bad luck. Well, since that day, we have been very lucky and I try very hard to concentrate on that. Charlie is lucky because acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL) is the most common form of childhood cancer, so it gets a lot of attention and money. What about the children who have rare forms of cancer that don’t get the same funding and attention? More than ever we are dedicated to the Jimmy Fund and Dana-Farber and all of the fabulous people who work there. We will continue to help raise money for them and work with them to help make cancer history.

Once while watching the Boston Marathon I thought, how cool to be an elite runner, leading the pack. Then I realized that Mike and I are part of an elite group of caregivers who run marathons every day in order to save our children.

Throughout this ordeal people asked us, “How do you do it? How do you keep moving forward and keep everything straight?” We didn’t have a choice. Like most parents, we will do anything to save our children. It helps to have a great partner and a support group of friends and family.

Here are some tips for others in our shoes:

Choose a group of caregivers who will treat your child like he is their own and will fight tooth and nail to cure him. Take help when it’s offered. Be specific. Our neighbors mowed the lawn, trimmed the hedges, did errands, and brought us food. Try to have fun. The Jimmy Fund Clinic has festivals and parties and offers free tickets to shows and games. Take advantage of these offerings, more for the rest of your family than for your sick child. We were a family of five who took a turn we didn’t expect. We’ll never know where the other road would have gone, because we took this one. We met people who enriched our lives in ways we never could have imagined – caregivers, experts, and other families. As a family we love each other more, because we almost lost one of us.

#backyard buzz cut #Jimmy Fund Clinic #lymphoblastic leukemia #Cell Cancer #Leukemia

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