Stay Strong ~ A Dan and Phil fanfiction

Chapter 17

*brief mention of mental illness and smoking ahead*

Chemo. Yup, that's a word.

It's also the treatment I'm starting today, to try and fight leukaemia.

It's been a day since my fall, and Phil has asked the nurse to put up the metal sides on the hospital bed so I don't fall out again. He's so worried about me. I don't want him to be. He deserves to be worry free.

"...Dan?"

I snap out of my daydream

"Yeah?"

"I asked you a question"

"Oh! I'm sorry Phil, I'm so tired and nervous"

"Why are you nervous?"

"I start chemo in a few hours"

"But it's going to make you better! Of course there are terrible side effects, but in the long run, it's worth all of the sickness so you get better!"

His optimism is probably the reason I haven't killed myself already.

"Do you think I'll need to come off my meds?" I ask worriedly, staring down at the rather uncomfortable bed sheets

I've been on anti anxiety and anti depressants for all of my twenties. None of my audience knows. And I'd like to keep it that way.

"...I don't know" he says, distracted "I need to go, I'll be back in a few minutes"

He rushes out of the room, taking his bag with him.

"...Phil?"

He's gone.

What the hell?

I'm determined not to have another panic attack. I can survive without him for two minutes surely. He's probably just gone outside for some fresh air

I stare up at the ceiling. The paint is cracked and very faded. This is the place I'm going to die in. A dirty hospital with no company because I basically told my mum to get out of my life and now Phil has left me too. I'm such an awful human being and don't deserve to live.

This is the reason I need to stay on my meds. So I don't go crazy, or have endless panic attacks. Or both.

~
About ten minutes later, I hear the door creak open and a rather sheepish looking Phil entering

"I'm sorry, Dan. I felt really sick and I had to go outside to... um...breathe?"

I suddenly get a very strong whiff of cigarette smoke. Surely not.

"But we were in the middle of a conversation, and you left?"

He looks down at his feet

"Were you smoking?"

"No!" He says, rather too quickly

I decide it's too much effort to keep interrogating him.

A nurse then enters.

"Sorry I'm a bit early! But I thought the sooner we start the chemo, the better? We can wait if you like Mr Howell?"

I feel my stomach drop. I didn't mentally prepare myself to start yet! But as she said, sooner is better.

"Okay" I choke, my throat is so dry.

"Some water perhaps? Before we start?"

"Yes, please"