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A new supply of drugs from Kavinsky in hand, Lee heads back home, his head full of instructions and thoughts, and, at the forefront, a promise he made to Kavinsky that he would be sure to have someone around to watch over him when he started taking the important ones, the ones that should, if things go to plan, get rid of Lee's cancer. He's not entirely sure yet what that will mean, if it will remove the threat entirely or just the tumors. Either way, he'll be happy. No tumors means no liver failure, it means his lungs won't start to fail and fill up with fluid. Even if he just goes into remission, it will mean an entirely new lease on life, which is more than Lee could ever hope for.
He's going to tell Eric tonight. As soon as Eric gets off work, Lee's going to sit him down and tell him everything.
The combination painkillers/anti-nausea meds Kavinsky gave Lee last week have been helping, and the tonic and magic Molly had offered doing even more for making Lee feel better. Still, the chemo's taking a lot of out of him, and though he isn't vomiting much anymore, he still gets tired pretty quickly. The walk over to his old apartment and back wipes him out, so once he's got his medication arranged in the cabinet in the bathroom, Lee lays down for a nap.
When he wakes up he has a sweet message on his phone from Eric, and he's even more excited now that it's later in the afternoon almost time for Eric to get off at the salon and come home to him. He feels like celebrating, the last day of this round of chemo, his PICC line out, the acquisition of magic made drugs that might do even more, so he puts a nice bottle of champagne in the refrigerator to chill, ordering Chinese food to be delivered about the time Eric should be arriving him. He's full of pleasant anticipation for the second time today, and he tries to sit still, but it's so hard. He finally has to put on music and close his eyes, meditate a little so he'll stop jumping at every noise that might be Eric's car pulling up out front or Eric's keys in the lock. Breathing slowly, he calms his mind as much as he can; the energy today feels positive, optimistic, and Lee absolutely can't wait to share it with the love of his life.
He's going to tell Eric tonight. As soon as Eric gets off work, Lee's going to sit him down and tell him everything.
The combination painkillers/anti-nausea meds Kavinsky gave Lee last week have been helping, and the tonic and magic Molly had offered doing even more for making Lee feel better. Still, the chemo's taking a lot of out of him, and though he isn't vomiting much anymore, he still gets tired pretty quickly. The walk over to his old apartment and back wipes him out, so once he's got his medication arranged in the cabinet in the bathroom, Lee lays down for a nap.
When he wakes up he has a sweet message on his phone from Eric, and he's even more excited now that it's later in the afternoon almost time for Eric to get off at the salon and come home to him. He feels like celebrating, the last day of this round of chemo, his PICC line out, the acquisition of magic made drugs that might do even more, so he puts a nice bottle of champagne in the refrigerator to chill, ordering Chinese food to be delivered about the time Eric should be arriving him. He's full of pleasant anticipation for the second time today, and he tries to sit still, but it's so hard. He finally has to put on music and close his eyes, meditate a little so he'll stop jumping at every noise that might be Eric's car pulling up out front or Eric's keys in the lock. Breathing slowly, he calms his mind as much as he can; the energy today feels positive, optimistic, and Lee absolutely can't wait to share it with the love of his life.
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Date: 2016-03-30 05:32 am (UTC)From:"You feel like going out? We could go to that marble slab place that stirs candy and shit into your ice cream," I say...after I swallow. I'm not a fucking savage.
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Date: 2016-03-30 09:51 pm (UTC)From:"I'd love to get out of the house," he says. "Being cooped up in your house is a lot better than my apartment, but I miss the sunshine," he adds, scooping up some noodles with his chopsticks and taking a bite.
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Date: 2016-04-02 07:00 am (UTC)From:"Then that's what we'll do. We can get ice cream and go sit in the sun and just, I don't know, be," I say as I take another shrimp.
I love seeing him smile. I love seeing him not weak and sick and miserable. This is, hands down, the hardest two weeks of my life. Even the grief over my parents can't really compare to seeing the man I love so ill. I mean, well, it's just different. Grief isn't the same feeling as helplessness.