"Buckle-up and endure now baby. Cancer for the cure."

[signofthetimes]

Who: Tara Campbell, Beau Watson, Brandon Blake and Merlin Blake
What: Results
Where: Mount Sinai, NYC
When: After this and this

As promised, Jaxson woke Brandon up later that afternoon and he had to admit, having a good few hours of steady sleep definitely helped him feel a bit better and his head didn’t feel so much like it had a demonic jackhammer going off inside his skull. It took him awhile to fully wake up and battle dragging himself out of the warm cocoon of their bed so before heading back to the hospital, he decided to take the bath he had been planning with the muscle soak before Cillian had intercepted him in the lobby.

It gave him a lot of time to think lying there in bubbles letting the warm water soothe all the aches and pains through his body. Not to mention, bathing actually made him begin to feel human again. When he got back to the hospital to see Merlin, he was freshly shaven and his still slightly damp hair was combed back from his face. He opted for a comfortable pair of grey sweatpants and a soft white Balmain knit sweater because he planned on visiting with Merlin for as long as he was allowed.

Merlin was out for the count when he arrived so Brandon asked to speak to his doctor to get some updates on how he had been. She said Merlin had been in pain and exhausted, so she upped his pain relief and added something mild to help him sleep. Along with the anaesthetic being rough for him, it was enough to help him get the sleep his body really needed to feel better. There was still no significant change with his stomach but it could take a few days before they got there. For now, he was comfortable with the medications they had him on.

Sitting beside Merlin holding his hand while he slept, Brandon was in the middle of texting (one handed) back and forth with his publicist, Olympia, and PA, Montana, giving them an update on what happened with Merlin when Tara and Beau arrived and considering they were both in scrubs and labcoats, he was pretty sure it wasn’t in a social visit. If Beau was alone, sure, because he was one of Damien and Liam’s closest friends and he had frequently dropped in socially when Brandon had been in hospital. He saw them both baulk when they saw his face, now heavily bruised and swollen on one side from when he passed out in the bathroom. Even if, at first, he had been tempting to let it slide, he had sent Tara a text and told her what happened because it was in the wake of having a couple not-so-basic tests done. She told him she would examine him when he got back to the hospital, unless he started to show clear signs of concussion, in which case, he should come in to the ER as soon as possible. He put his phone down on the bed by Merlin’s leg and sat back, drawing in a deep breath without realising he was bracing himself. “I know, I know. Pretty sure it looks worse than it actually is.”

“Hiya, honey,” Tara greeted him, coming into the room with a gentle smile. “How’s our battle-weary soldier and his hubby holdin’ up? We’ve got some results to have a wee chat about but I wanted to check if you prefer to hold off until Merlin’s up to bein’ there too. It’s okay if you prefer to wait. But let’s have a wee closer look at your face first to make sure you haven’t fractured anythin’. Are you still feelin’ dizzy? Any nausea o’ vomitin’ since you passed out?” she asked, leaning close and taking out her penlight to examine his eyes and then popped it back in her pocket to gently feel his cheek and jaw bones.

Beau greeted Brandon with a companionable pat on the back. “Other than the face, you look a little better than when I last saw you. Did you manage to get some sleep? I know it took tag-teaming with Jess and text backup from Damo to get you to go. You can blame your other half for the head’s up.”

Brandon responded with a little long-suffering groan at hearing Beau had joined forces with both his brothers-in-law — on direction from Merlin — to get him to agree to go home to try to sleep for a bit. And that was before Wes and Jax had alerted Merlin to the fact they found him passed out in the bathroom at home. “Why am I not surprised it was handled like a military operation? A bit woozy but it’s okay if I stay still as much as I can and I have a massive headache. No nausea since I took some meds for it. All that was there before I passed out, though.”

Merlin had been in a miserable mood after his brief procedure because anaesthetic just didn’t agree with him, so Brandon hadn’t wanted to worry him telling him he agreed to have the bone marrow biopsy and lumbar puncture while he was at the hospital rather than wait until the next week or two, which had been the plan before Merlin got sick. Since then, Brandon told Montana to cancel everything he had scheduled in his planner for getting back into the swing of work and he wouldn’t reschedule until Merlin was back on his feet. In the meantime, he would just use the time to begin memorising scripts for the upcoming season of his show and trying to get his head back into the space for method-acting Saxon’s character again. Fighting cancer, getting married, going into remission — it all added tools to his method-acting toolkit, to say the least. He and Merlin were going to need to have another deep-and-meaningful when he was feeling better because Brandon realised now just how much he hurt Merlin by not telling him in advance so he could be there for him or at least be aware he was having the diagnostic tests done. And likely even more so by the time this conversation with Tara and Beau was over.

When Tara spoke, her Irish accent immediately reminded Brandon of his conversation with Cillian and it took all his strength not to fall into a black hole of overthinking the whole thing. The only decision he had made was to tell Merlin when he was feeling better. It was just difficult to know when that might be and he really didn’t think out the enormity of it well enough. They didn’t know if the bowel rest and fluid therapy would achieve much by way of helping him feel better or it wouldn’t be until they fixed the mechanical blockage in his bowel that he would begin to feel any relief. The treatment he was undergoing now would resolve some of the symptoms the blockage caused but it wouldn’t fix the problem. He had a rough few days ahead of him, to say the least. Brandon was pissed off his own health hadn’t even been able to calm the fuck down long enough for him to be there when his husband needed him.

Brandon combed Merlin’s hair off his face with the tips of his fingers and tucked it behind his ear. He loved it when Merlin left it on the longer side. “Not much progress with him yet. He was in a lot of pain so they just gave him something to sleep. The doc said the stent should help get everything moving, which should ease the pain more, and tomorrow, we should have a better idea when they’ll do his surgery. He’s stopped vomiting, though, and that’s always a plus. Everything always seems so much fucking harder when you’re puking. Like, I did a hell of a lot of that when I was sick but every time he was being sick or even just trying to, he was in so much pain and nothing was helping. He just kept getting worse.”

“A-fucking-men to that,” Beau agreed, waving his hand. If you copped a cocktail of chemo that made you sick as a fucking dog for months (or sometimes even years) on end like he and Brandon had been through, you tended to wish for a miracle that you’d never have to get intimate with the inside of a toilet bowl ever again. Yet another difficult part of facing down the barrel of a relapse. “A bowel obstruction is extremely painful and that’s even before a build-up of toxics starts to happen. Us doctors, we’re not pulling your leg when we stress how important pooing is. I’m told you never take farting for granted again once you’ve been through not being able to do it. All that is why you needed some sleep, bud, and why Tara insisted you had to head home to rest. Sitting around on hard hospital visitors chairs after an LP and bone marrow biopsy isn’t a good idea. Just ask the boss lady here. The clinical term for it is ‘tough love’.”

“Yeah? There I was thinking it was ‘tough shit’.” Brandon noted with a wry scrunch of his nose. He took a few moments to think, rubbing his face as if it could help his brain function a bit better to figure out the right next move. Seeing Merlin’s face on the video call on Wesley’s phone and hearing the hurt in his words asking why Brandon didn’t tell him he’d arranged to get the tests done was fresh in his mind. A lot of things were fresh in his mind, all competing against each other. He squeezed his temples between his thumb and middle finger, only to be reminded one side of his face was covered in bruises and a small yelp of pain escaped him, followed by a string of muttered cursing to him. “Everything’s just… shit. I wasn’t trying to be a pain in the ass. After he’d been by my side unconditionally through my whole treatment shitshow and even married me during it, I needed to be here to take care of him when he was sick. It’s just… yeah, sure it’s something you both truly understand.”

Tara rested her hand on the iPad she was holding in her lap on top of the latest hard copy of Brandon’s medical record. “Aye, and that is somethin’ so vital for us to talk about too. It’s okay if you need to take any of this slow so you have time to process it. You’re tryin’ to manage an extreme amount o’ stress at the moment and whilst I know you’re very skilled in shoulderin’ a lot, your main source of direct support is unwell. If you need to have a counsellor here, o’ another friend o’ family member, we can make that happen. I also want to increase the dosage o’ your antidepressant and prescribe you somethin’ to help give you a more consistent sound sleep. The ball’s in your court if you want to discuss the test results now or wait until Merlin’s feelin’ better.”

Brandon sat back from Merlin and turned to sit sideways on the seat, directly facing Tara and Beau so he could see their faces. “Am I dying?” The words felt like they almost stung exiting him through a tight inhalation. But the thought hit him so quickly, it was impossible to stop the bolt of panic slicing through him.

“No. No, you’re not dyin’, honey. If we were lookin’ at that, I’d be insistin’ you not do this alone,” Tara clarified calmly yet swiftly so Brandon’s anxiety didn’t have the chance to run too far with the fear. A fear that was perfectly natural in any cancer patient. She had even seen it in Beau when he relapsed and she was still treating him for depression and anxiety, even if he was in remission for the second time in his life. That’s why she had to preface the discussion with how important it was for him to have support and treatment with that side of things. Cancer was as traumatic a life event as they came.

Beau took in the way Brandon kept swallowing heavily and he was bouncing his leg now. This was an awful spot for anyone to be in and stress was a slippery slope. “It’s just remembering that treating the mental health is just as important as the physical, buddy.”

Brandon dragged his fingers through his hair, holding it back from his face while he internally battled with the best move to make. He wanted to wait for Merlin but at the same time, Merlin was feeling terrible and could be for some days. The waiting would be excruciating. He hoped Merlin understood and wouldn’t be hurt. He shook his head helplessly to himself, biting his lower lip. “Um… shit. Look, if this was anything else, I’d wait until he woke up. He and I are a bit like a crappy wifi connection with communication at the moment. Pretty much entirely my fault for not handling things as well as I hoped I would if we ever had to stare this shit in the face. But even when he wakes up, he might not actually start to feel better until after the op and I… fuck. I don’t know what the right answer to anything is. Everything is making me feel like I’m pissing in the wind or pushing shit up a hill all of a sudden, after finally feeling like things were getting under control for the first time in ages. Take your pick of in-the-toilet related analogies. They’re all accurate. Prolonging it is just going to drive me fucking nuts. You’re right about the mental health thing. I know that. I just… I already know what you’re going to say. Let’s just rip the band-aid off.” He shook his head, hand resting on Merlin’s shoulder.

Tara brought up Brandon’s blood and bone marrow biopsy results on the screen of the iPad to show him the comparison to the routine tests performed three months prior. “You’re in the very early stages of relapse. You’re also significantly anaemic and have moderate splenomegaly. Enlarged spleen, along with some enlarged lymph nodes from the presence o’ leukaemia cells. That’s what has been causin’ the tenderness on the left side o’ your abdomen and in your groin area. The good news is, we’ve caught it very early and there’s no presentation o’ leukaemia cells in the central nervous system or testes, which is what I was concerned about. The increased bruisin’ and bleedin’, absolutely factored to the low platelets from the leukaemia cells bein’ present in your blood again. The increase in fatigue, dizziness, aches and pains, generally feeling not quite well these past few weeks, all indicative also. But considerin’ your last round of tests at your last checkup were clear, we can’t ignore that it’s movin’ fast. We need to look at resumin’ treatment as soon as we can to stop any rapid progression. I’m hopin’ we can reverse it much quicker than the first time around. I’m also hopin’ we won’t need to resort to near as aggressive a treatment regime this time either.”

It was the most surreal mix of feelings Brandon felt all at once hearing the news confirmed. He only took in so much of what Tara was saying before his chest started to feel tight and it started to feel like he was listening to her underwater. In rapid succession, heat prickled over his whole body, a weird muffled ring started in his ears, and his stomach felt like it jumped and dropped simultaneously. It also felt vaguely like he could throw up or have explosive diarrhoea at the same time but he couldn’t get words out to warn about it and the lights in the room seemed way too bright around stars shooting through his peripheral vision.

“Brandon!” Beau spotted that Brandon was about to go down within a split second of Tara noticing but he was closer and managed to grab him as his eyes rolled back and he slumped over. Moving him from the chair down to the floor, he got him into the recovery position with his feet propped up on the base of the chair and Tara ran out of the room to grab an obs trolley. He was only out collectively for all of a minute or two before he came-to but it was never nice to come around and realise you’d passed out. Syncope wasn’t uncommon with emotional distress nor was it generally serious but it felt horrible when it hit and for a little while coming around from it. Getting his feet up would help the blood flow back to his brain, yet they couldn’t ignore that he was a cancer patient and needed to monitor him more closely than someone who simply fainted. He rubbed Brandon’s shoulder to try to keep him calm so Tara could take his obs. “It’s okay, buddy. Take it easy. You passed out again. Don’t try to move yet.”

Tara shook out a sick bag she collected from the trolley and gave it to Beau just in case. Brandon had significantly paled even more than he already was from the anaemia right before he passed out and was clammy and breathing heavily. All classic signs of syncope. Emotional shock could just have this effect sometimes, especially in patients already juggling a lot of stress. Even if he had told himself he was expecting the news, that didn’t mean the brain knew how to process the confirmation. Trying to anticipate a blow was very different to receiving it. She put her stethoscope in her ears so she could check his blood pressure. “Let’s hook him up to a bag o’ fluids while he’s here with Merlin. It won’t hurt. Damien told you he’d been drinkin’ and a wee bit hungover?”

Beau rested the bag close to Brandon’s mouth in case the syncope made him sick and grabbed the thermometer to check his temp in his ear. “Couple of days ago. Before Merlin was sick. Temp 100.3. Fluids won’t hurt,” he agreed, showing Tara the reading on the screen.

“BP’s 86/52. O2 sats a wee bit low. We’ll check again when we get him up. Pop some oxygen on until he recovers. I’ll order a repeat on his hb and iron levels with a fast-track on the results. Think we need to get an iron infusion into him as soon as we can.” Tara ducked out to the linen store across the hall and got a spare pillow, bringing it back and carefully slipping it under Brandon’s head as he started to come around a bit more. “Welcome back, honey. You checked out on us for a few moments there. The news is an understandable shock. Just stay lyin’ there until it passes a wee bit more, then we’ll get you lyin’ up on the other bed here.”

“F…uck ‘gain?” Brandon mumbled, slowly becoming conscious that he was lying something hard as fuck, every part of him pressing against it throbbing with pain and he was feeling very fucking rough again. Tara’s voice filtered through his groggy mind along with an awareness someone was putting an oxygen mask on him. “Wha’appened? Oh, fuck… feel sick.”

Beau hadn’t secured the mask on Brandon for this reason and removed it again to quickly hold the sick bag to his mouth instead, cupping his hand under his chin so he didn’t choke when he started to vomit. “That’s it, buddy. It’s okay, let it come. It’ll help you feel better. It’s been a rough couple of days for you.”

“S—” Brandon coughed, trying to catch his breath. “—orry.”

“There’s not a thing to be sorry about, sweetheart. The body’s got a mind of its own when it comes to these things.” Tara held Brandon’s hair out of his face for him while she was checking the contents of the emesis bag for any sign of significant blood in it. “Looks like you’ve been eatin’ a wee bit, though. Good sign. Just need to try to reduce the stress levels and keep you restin’.”

“Admission?” Beau asked.

“No—” Brandon protested as soon as the word was out of Beau’s mouth and tried to move, as if that would somehow immediately convince them he was perfectly fine. He wasn’t perfectly fine, though. Didn’t help that the protest sounded more like retching than a word, either.

Beau tugged his lips to the side. “Was I this much of a pain in the butt when I was a patient?” he joked, knowing a little bit of levity would help ground Brandon through what was clearly shock and panic. Relapse blowed. There was nothing easy about it.

Tara wiped Brandon’s mouth and checked the paper towel for any signs of blood streaks too. He had some GI bleeding as one of the signs that he could be relapsing and having had internal haemorrhaging in the past, it was important now to monitor him closely. “Lucky I’ve had plenty o’ experience handlin’ stubborn pains in my butt o’er the years. Don’t move too fast. Let’s try to get you sittin’ up slowly first and then if you’re steady enough, we’ll move to the bed. Then we need to chat. Deal? Don’t nod, just give me a thumbs up if that’s okay. You might still feel like you’re needin’ to be sick o’ use the toilet.”

It definitely was a slow process to get Brandon off the floor and reclined on the other bed in the room where he now felt better enough to have the oxygen mask secured in place. He obediently let Beau take his hand for inserting a cannula for IV fluids while Tara wrote up orders on her iPad for a repeat round of blood work. Thankfully, he did it all without vomiting or passing out again and only asked them three times to check Merlin was okay and still sleeping because he didn’t want him waking suddenly and finding all this shit out like this. “This has come out of my mouth way more than I’m proud to admit lately but I really didn’t mean to be a stubborn pain in the ass,” he mumbled, eyes downcast to the logo on his trackpants. “It’s like, the more I’ve tried to coach myself that I’d deal with all this better this time than the first, I’ve never been more wrong in my life. Passing the fuck out twice in twenty-four hours is probably proof of that. Please don’t admit me.”

A nurse appeared and gave Tara a couple of cups of juice and a sandwich she requested. She placed them on the bed table and pulled it up to Brandon’s side. “I want you to try to slowly sip the juice and have a few bites to eat if you can manage. We need to get your system rebalanced and you’ll begin to feel a lot better. You know what happens when tryin’ to run on empty. If you promise me to lie quietly and rest here a wee while with your husband right there so we take bloods and give you some fluids, I’m satisfied we don’t need to admit you if you’re feelin’ better. I’m confident this is just a simple vasovagal syncope from the shock of the news but we have to keep a very close eye on you, aye? Are you goin’ to make our jobs a wee bit easier and let us, along with not addin’ to your hubby’s anxiety more than necessary when he wakes up later? This’ll pass but you’ll feel weak and tired for a wee while. Brandon, honey, it’s absolutely vital you do your bit to take care o’ yourself otherwise it’s goin’ to exacerbate extremely fast. That’s what we need to avoid, if we can. You need to listen to your body.”

Brandon looked at the juice and sandwich with a sigh but had a few sips of the juice like Tara instructed. It really wasn’t his intention to be difficult for anyone. He definitely didn’t want to fuck himself over with his health like he did with his initial diagnosis by delaying testing and treatment far too long. That was all before Merlin. The world was different for him now. It wasn’t about thinking only for himself anymore. As far as he was concerned, there was no life without Merlin now. “I need to be here for Merlin. I don’t know how I’m supposed to deal with any of this yet. I thought I did. I was so fucking wrong. A few week ago, I was actually feeling pretty fine. The symptoms were just background noise, really. Scout’s honour, I was sleeping well, had an appetite, working out without needing breaks. Any GvHD shit that cropped up was easily managed with meds. Are you sure this isn’t like the first time? Why the fuck do I keep passing out?”

“Likely an unpleasant mix of exhaustion, dehydration, stress and anaemia,” Beau explained, softly tapping the back of Brandon’s hand to find a viable vein. Cancer patients could be tough getting IV lines in, though. “Booze on top of that wouldn’t have helped. But it’s completely understandable that any news of relapse comes as a shock. It’s traumatic. Trust me, I’ve been there, buddy, and I’m a doctor. Even that didn’t make me immune to flipping the fuck out when they told me I was relapsing and I’d been feeling really sick, so I knew in my gut what was coming. The best thing you did was tell us when you started noticing recurring symptoms because as Tara said, we’ve caught it really early and there’s treatment options we can look at. If there’s one thing I truly understand, though, is wanting to spare the person you love from being hit with the pain of you being sick again. The burden of it. I ended up with a divorce to show for it. Don’t make the error of emotional judgement I did. Use me as a precedent.This thing, it can pull the rug out from under you in the worst ways before you even see it coming.”

“The laddie’s a wise one here. You should listen to his leukemia survivor Jedi wisdom,” Tara murmured, softly patting Beau’s head where he was crouched down to get the line into Brandon’s hand. She moved on to check Brandon’s blood pressure again now he was sitting up and had more colour back in his face.

Brandon watched Beau nimbly insert the needle. It barely stung with how smooth the insertion was. Beau was skilled with his needles like Lachlan and Tara both were. “Your relapse caused your divorce? I thought Austin cheated on you.” He knew Beau and Austin were back together again and made the choice to restart their marriage, in a sense, though they weren’t officially married again yet. He knew Beau’s relapse had been rough and it left him with clinical depression that he was being treated for. Beau had told him all this when Brandon had been in the hospital many weeks in isolation with his bone marrow transplant. He sat with Brandon for countless hours between shifts just so he had someone there who knew what he was going through.

Beau nodded, smoothing the strip of tegaderm over the cannula to hold it in place. “He did but I’d emotionally checked out so much, he thought I didn’t love him anymore. There was no intimacy, nothing. This was after my second remission, where I consciously knew I should be over the moon but I just… wasn’t. I became this numb shell, like I was just going through life on autopilot. Because of that perceived need to be over the moon, neither of us realised it was depression and no one did until, instead of driving myself off a cliff, I drove to the ER and told Riley I needed to help because I wanted to kill myself and had a plan for doing it. Even if we divorced, in retrospect, once he came back and we talked, I could see his perception that I’d fallen out of love with him. I hadn’t been able to communicate with him that the reality was my second battle with cancer really damaged me psychologically. Austin fucked up. Got blind drunk one night and made an awful mistake. Now he’s HIV Positive and we nearly lost each other for good. I’m not saying it’s my fault and it’s not his either. I know that now, even if his cheating really hurt me at the time when I was already at rock bottom. I was unwell and didn’t realise the extent of that until it was too late.” He moved on to connect the vacutainer tube to Brandon’s cannula to draw the blood, watching to make sure he had a good flow for the amount of vials he needed to take.

He briefly rested his hand on Brandon’s forearm and met his gaze. ”What I can tell you is relapse can be a lot harder emotionally than the first fight because you know what you’re facing and you’re very conscious that even if you go into remission again, it might not be permanent. You’ll have times you feel very battle-weary, like it’s hard to keep pushing through and wondering if it’s even worth going through it all if it’s ultimately going to fail. For me, chemo completely fucked up my libido and I had ED. My dick just had no interest in coming to the party. It contributed to completely losing any intimate connection with my husband that we both needed. Recognising what your emotions are doing, letting other people recognise it and telling you when you can’t, and not trying to spare the people you love the burden is the best advice I can give. When you love someone, any burden is shared. You can’t forget the wedding vows. Print them out in giant letters on your fridge and in your bathroom if you need to. I can see the warning signs that you guys are starting to struggle with communication already out of fear, so think of this as your wake up call. You can’t spare him. He’s half of you now. He’s fighting with you and some days, he’ll have to fight for you when you can’t. Same as you wanting to fight this patch of illness with him and you will because you want to take care of him in all the same ways he has for you. He knows what he signed up for. Don’t accidentally or subconsciously push him out and make him feel useless. Tara went through the same thing when Lachie was shot. She was in Merlin and Austin’s shoes. He tried to break off their engagement and set her free to spare her. It’s human nature to reflexively want to do anything it takes to shield them but it’s the worst thing we can do to the people we love. No one chooses to get sick or injured. It’s just one of those shit happens things in life. Or not so much literally, in Merlin’s case. I can tell you now, even still being left with depression, it’s worth it.” He pointed with the next empty blood vial over to a sleeping Merlin in the other bed. “And that’s why it’s always worth it.”

Brandon listened to every word Beau said and looked over at Merlin still crashed out. When he went to reply, he was choked up and attempted to clear his throat. “Why does everything you just said terrify me more than the thought of going through treatment again? I can’t lose him and…” He closed his eyes, resting his head back on the pillows Tara had propped him up on. “I think I need to get my ass back to a therapist for help processing all this. Merlin might need to as well. I’ll talk to him about it. That’s the part that I’m pissed off at myself about the most. He and I have never had problems communicating and we don’t really fight but the fight the other day was massive. Don’t get me wrong. I’ve always found it a challenge not going things alone and letting people in but he’s been the exception to all that from literally day one. Somehow, he just knew how to keep my head above water when I was drowning the most. I guess I just… hoped we’d finally have some peace to just finally live. We booked a honeymoon, you know. Finally took the leap. He was back in the swing of things with work, helping out in Justin’ absence. Things were getting back on track with my work. I’m just pissed off. Pissed off at shit happens. Jeezus. Fuck. I can’t cry. If I start, I won’t stop.” He put his hand over his eyes, sucking in a deep breath.

Tara pulled up a couple of chairs for herself and Beau, though Beau was still finishing up the blood draws to get them sent to pathology for urgent results. They would indicate if Brandon needed some units of blood as well as an iron infusion and if there was anything else systemically out of whack to treat so he was the strongest he could be heading back into treatment. She sat down and put her hand over Brandon’s. He wasn’t just a patient, he was practically family via the six degrees of separation. Damien had lived with her and Lachlan when he first moved to New York from South Carolina and Lachlan had recorded and produced Damien’s first indie record at their home studio. He was still actively involved in the lives of their kids, being godfather to their daughter (now a toddler), along with Beau, who Tara had been pregnant with when Beau’s own relapse had started happening. Damien being Merlin’s big brother, and Brandon being Merlin’s husband, he definitely wasn’t ‘just a patient’ and he had taken a huge leap of faith trusting both her and Lachlan with his treatment the first time around. “You can’t avoid the grief process, my sweet. I wish I could prescribe you a pill to pop o’ give you a shot in the butt o’ somethin’ that could help but there’s nothin’ easy about serious medical battles and Beau is truly on the money when he says it can be harder the second time. We’d automatically assume it should be easier because we’ve done it before but that’s not the case with cancer. Cancer only gets harder. I think it’s a good call to think about therapy, whether separately or together with Merlin. O’ even both. It won’t hurt. Do you feel up to talkin’ about treatment options? Even just the basics, so you can talk it through with Merlin? If you’re still feelin’ too poorly, we’ll try again tomorrow.”

“This is going to probably piss everyone off but…” Brandon closed his eyes again, nursing his forehead in his hand. Everything was information overload again. There was so much to think about and he didn’t even know where to start with processing it all. “I’m not letting anyone harvest his bone marrow while he’s so unwell. So, if any of the treatment options you’re talking about involves that, it’s going to have to wait until he’s better. Do the other shit first. I’ll do all the chemo or literally anything else. They’re going to be slicing into his bowel. He needs time to recover and I… don’t even know where to start with any of this without him. I don’t want to either.”

Tara shook her head and took Brandon’s between hers. “This is not somethin’ we rush, sweet. We won’t do anythin’ until our team sits down with both you and Merlin, and anyone else you might wish to be included, and discuss our options and the best way to proceed. The news is a shock and you’re understandably overwhelmed. You both need to take a wee bit o’ time to process it. There are different avenues we can proceed with treatment with pros and cons o’ each but I don’t think you’re in the best state o’ mind right now with Merlin ill to absorb the information. It shouldn’t be somethin’ you do without him in any case. You need time to digest the news. Even if you felt like you were anticipatin’ the results, that doesn’t make them any less a shock. It’ll be a couple o’ days at least for him to get some relief with the stent and prep for the surgery, then a few days in the wake o’ it to recover a wee bit and be discharged home. How about we plan to have a more detailed chat about our options then, after you’ve talked to him? In the meantime, I can leave you with some information to read in your own time about how treatin’ relapse differs to the initial remission induction processes that you can read in your own time when you’re ready, that Merlin can read too. I’m expectin’ your bloodwork to show you need, at the very least, an iron infusion and possibly a blood o’ platelet transfusion, both o’ which will help you feel a lot better. We may also look at introducin’ o’ recommencin’ some medications to counteract anythin’ else that might showup in the blood results. Your job will be to rest and take it easy as much as you can, and focus on good nutrition as you can manage, hydration, takin’ your pain medication as directed not as needed, and rememberin’ that if you’re feelin’ poorly, it’s your body’s way o’ tellin’ you to stop. Firstly, what I want to do is pop you on somethin’ for anxiety and increase the dose o’ your antidepressants but if you still feel like your stress levels are too high o’ things are going ‘round and ‘round in your head, re-engagin’ with your psychologist is important. This time ‘round, we don’t wait until it’s too late, aye? Does that all sound okay?”

“Slightly less terrifying,” Brandon confirmed softly and watched Beau tucking a pillow under his arm to rest it on while the IV did its thing now he had connected the fluid bag to it. “I never have enough words to thank you guys. And Lachlan, of course. I wouldn’t be here without you all. We know that’s no exaggeration. No matter how much of a pain I’m sure my celebrity ass is, you just have all the patience in the world. You’ve been incredible. Seriously. I’ll do my best to follow all your advice the best I can. You think it’ll help me feel less like bathroom tile roadkill? I need to be able to help Merlin while he’s out of action. There’s just… shit, I really don’t want to ask this but I think it’s something that will drive me insane if I don’t. Are my odds worse the second time around? Because they were pretty shit the first. Do they keep getting worse with every relapse?”

Beau looked at Tara, waiting for her to answer but she nodded and let him offer his medical opinion too. His specialty was paediatric oncology and one of his focal areas for his ongoing medicine study was acute leukemias, such as Brandon had. Although Tara, who was Medical and Surgical Oncologist, was his residency supervisor, he worked frequently with Lachlan, who was a renowned Haematologist, Haematologic Oncologist, and Bone Marrow and Stem Cell Transplant specialist. Tara and Lachlan had met when they were both undertaking fellowships at the same time here in the US, despite Tara being Irish and Lachlan being Scottish. Beau had been an intern at the time Lachlan was shot by his stalker (not long after getting engaged to Tara), who had been the sister of one of his patients at the time. She had been attempting to shoot Tara out the front of the hospital but Lachlan jumped in front of her and took the bullet. They hadn’t thought Lachlan would ever walk again from his injuries and he was left infertile as a result. However, he overcame the odds to get back on his feet and a couple of years later, they discovered Tara was pregnant. They were two of the strongest people Beau had ever met and he knew because of that, Brandon had the best fighting chance possible with them.

“This might not be what you’re wanting to hear, buddy, but odds are impossible to calculate with your type of leukaemia and presentation. There’s so many things to factor in and consider. The thing to focus on is that you achieved remission the first time with BMT, even if it was rough. Often, in cases like yours, the most basic of induction treatment may achieve remission again. That’s the goal, inducing remission. It’s about figuring out the best way to get there and trying to maintain as much quality of life for you as we can. Predicting an outcome or determining your prognosis depends on how you respond. The presentation of a relapse is different to the disease at the initial diagnosis. What we can say is you’ve bounced back really well after your first remission, despite battling GvHD. You’ve regained fitness and strength, you’ve been putting on weight and recovering muscle mass. Age is most definitely on your side, as is the fact your medical history was minimal before you were diagnosed with leukaemia. It’s so easy to get caught up on the fear and negatives. Catching it early, you’ve given yourself the best odds possible. Even though no one is going to judge you or spite you getting drunk when the fear started to kick in. However, being a two-time leukaemia survivor and chemo superstar myself, I’m going to wager a bet you actually didn’t drink much at all, just what you did have got you trashed very quickly.” When Brandon met his gaze at that, he offered him a reassuring wink in return.

Brandon had the decency to give both Tara and Beau a sheepish look at this. “Do you think you could write that on a note for my husband? Pretty sure he wanted to kick my ass when he saw how totalled I was. Plus I…” He cleared his throat, checking to make sure Merlin hadn’t woken before he continued. “Apparently I was, uh, really gropey while I was drunk, to put it politely. Medically-speaking, can alcohol help libido? Because it’s been a couple of months since I’ve had any sort of active urges, let alone…” He gestured vaguely with his hand because even though he knew they were both medical professionals, it was still embarrassing to talk about. “Let’s just say, I don’t think it helped with him already being pissed off at me. Like, radio-silence for months then suddenly I’m trying to hump his leg after I’ve had a few.”

“A couple of months of low libido only or low libido along with being unable to get an erection?” Beau couldn’t recall discussing this at length during Brandon’s checkup when he revealed some symptoms had recurred but he did know both had been an issue for him at points through his treatment because he had prescribed Viagra for him himself prior to his and Merlin’s wedding. “And both happened when you were drunk?”

Scratching his temple, Brandon briefly side-eyed to the door. He didn’t really want to be having this conversation here like this but at the same time, he was pretty sure trying to resume intimacy with Merlin was important, especially after hearing about Beau’s experience that led to his divorce. “Er…”

“Beau’s only askin’ because it might indicate your sexual function might be more related to somethin’ psychological than physical,” Tara explained, patting Beau’s arm. “Did you want me to hand you o’er to Beau’s capable hands to have a wee chat about this? I understand it can be easier with a male doctor and he’s very knowledgeable on the subject. Medically speakin’, o’ course,” she joked, her turn now to give Beau a wink.

Brandon had to laugh at that and it felt good. He was grateful they both knew how to put him at ease. He might’ve been fighting cancer — and all the shit it caused — for awhile now but he still felt like he was flying blind with most of it because it was so unpredictable and terrifying. “No, it’s fine. Really. My ego isn’t really that fragile. It’s not talking about my dick that’s making me flustered, it’s discussing my married sex life without my husband technically present. It’s something I’ve been worried about, though. After we talked about the headaches with the Viagra a few months after the transplant, I stopped using it much because things were working fine without it. For awhile there, we had a really healthy functioning sex life. Then it took a dive. Now, after what Beau said, I’m worried not enough intimacy might be affecting our communicating. But I know intimacy isn’t just about sex. We still use the sex therapy techniques we learned before the transplant. I just really prefer to be able to have engaging sex with my husband than not. Of course. Shit, do you think it’s because of the relapse? Sorry, um… it’s been both. I kind of feel horny sometimes but not a whole lot and it’s like I can’t get all the way with an erection. Even then, it doesn’t last long. That doesn’t mean there’s been no sex. Two guys and all that…”

“Viagra was starting to give you migraines, wasn’t it?” Beau took Tara’s iPad and brought up Brandon’s medical record to read back on what he had said during that particular appointment. “Throbbing-like headache onset after sex, gradually worsening and accompanied by attacks of photophobia and nausea which had progressed to vomiting the last two times you’d taken it. You reported being able to get and maintain an erection without it when we trialled cessation. So, you stopped taking the Viagra and had a good stretch where you had a good sex drive and everything downstairs was functioning pretty well when you were having good days but in the past couple of months, it’s deteriorated again? I know on your bad days, you probably weren’t feeling up to trying anyway, so let’s just focus on when you were feeling up to it.”

Brandon gestured to Tara. “Did you mean that there might be a chance my own head’s literally cockblocking my dick when you said that it might be psychological rather than physical?” he asked, not sure what that could specifically mean. “Even on my bad days, I still want to be close to Merlin. I still want to be able to make love to him, so it can’t be psychological, right? But, um, yeah. We weren’t sure if it was triggering an actual migraine like what Merlin gets or if the headache alone with the exertion of having sex was making me nauseous and eventually puking too. I mean, at that point, the GvHD was still making me puke on the regular. Even now, there’s still those days. Just not as many. Definitely for awhile there, it just felt like a regular sex life. It was great when I was feeling good. Some days, it was freaking fantastic,” he added with a smirk.

“It’s more likely to be a mix o’ both psychological and physical. We know chemo impacted on your sexual function and that could come and go indefinitely, and bein’ unwell with GvHD will have contributed. But you’ve also been workin’ hard to regain your fitness levels with the aim o’ gettin’ back to work. Your body’s been readjustin’ and going through a lot o’ change still. You’re still in the very early days post-remission, even if we’re facin’ relapse now. You have to remember, we completely eradicated your functionin’ immune system to prepare for the new bone marrow. Physically, you’re goin’ to have glitches and if we reintroduce chemo, it’s goin’ to set you back again. Psychologically, I think you’ve been puttin’ a lot o’ pressure on yourself, perhaps without realisin’. When you get drunk, it removes inhibitions. That’s why Beau was askin’ if the increase in libido while you were drunk went hand-in-hand with achievin’ an erection. It might indicate the issue is more psychological than physical. But psychologically, if your libido’s low for whatever reason, it can impact on the ability to maintain an erection. The first step might be to spend time with Merlin focusin’ on reconnectin’ on that deep emotional intimacy level. We could try reintroducin’ Viagra bear in mind, restartin’ treatment will likely impact on any desire for sex anyway, though I know that’s somethin’ you and Merlin will need to spend time calibratin’ again anyway. I’m happy to write up a script for Viagra if that’s what you prefer,” Tara offered gently, knowing this would be a challenge for both him and Merlin. Nothing one conversation would work out, either.

“Don’t underestimate the power of stripping everything in your life back for a little, buddy. If you wanted my advice from both a professional standpoint as an oncologist and a personal standpoint as a cancer survivor, shelve everything unnecessary but Merlin and your marriage, and processing the news of your relapse and knowing you’re heading into another round of treatment just in the meantime. You’ll be surprised at how it makes it just a bit easier to breathe. The more external pressures, the harder it is to cope. Merlin’s going to need to recover from his surgery anyway, so he’s not going to be able to have sex. It might be a good time for you to practise other ways of being intimate and emotionally anchored to each other. But also to just convalesce. Mend together. That’s better for you both than any medical intervention. I swear that to you. I wouldn’t bullshit you.” Beau patted Brandon’s shoulder. “Do you want us to leave you to get a bit of rest while these fluids run through? You can have us paged at any time if you have more questions. Even when I’m off the clock, okay? Call me any time if you just want to talk or vent about how horrible some of this stuff is. It is horrible but you still have your husband and he still has you.”

Brandon’s gaze moved back over to Merlin and he exhaled slowly, wetting his lips. “Yeah, I… feel really damn tired all of a sudden. Again. Guess we’re back on that train again. You’re right. All I really feel like I want is to be close to him.”

“Do you want to go o’er and lie with him, honey?” Tara offered, gesturing to Merlin’s bed. “You won’t hurt him. All his lines are connected on his right side. You’ll fit just fine. He would lie with you for many hours when you were unconscious. He said it helped. Lachie and I have done the same in the past. Only if you let Beau help you o’er there, mind. We don’t want you passin’ out again.”

“Really? It won’t piss any of the staff off? I don’t want to get in the way of them helping him if he needs it. But if it’s okay, yeah, if I could.” Brandon analysed how Merlin was connected to everything and Tara was right, it was all to this side where he had a pillow guarding his stomach where the worst of the pain had been. “Okay, but is he urgently going to need the bathroom with what they’ve done to him because trying to rush out of bed when you’re in pain or shit could literally hit the fan is the worst feeling.”

“Give me a sec. I’ll check to see what he’s charted.” Beau headed out of the room briefly to chat with the nurse allocated to monitoring Merlin and was only gone briefly before he returned. “He’ll be taken for an x-ray twenty-four hours post-op to check the stent’s position. Good news is, he’s only been given something mild to get things moving until they start his bowel prep tomorrow for the surgery. Bad news for you, buddy, is the stent will have expanded by now so things will be moving and with the mild meds he’s been given, if you lie with him in bed, he’s probably going to be paying you back for all those chemo farts he suffered sharing a bed with you. He’ll probably have some belly pain and discomfort, maybe some urgency for the toilet and diarrhoea but because it’s not a harsh treatment, you should be able to help him to the bathroom swiftly enough. He’ll know if he needs to make a move. I think you’re mostly safe. Married life at its finest.”

Brandon smirked, propping himself up on his elbow. “He’s been giving as good as he gets since the day we met. Ulcerative colitis and IBS are a hell of a worthy sparring partner for chemo farts. Whatever helps him feel better, I’ll survive.”

“Whoa, there. Hold up a wee minute. Don’t try to move without help.” Tara moved the chairs out of the way and offered Brandon her hand. “Let’s get you sittin’ on the sid o’ the bed first and wait to make sure you’re not too lightheaded to stand. Even then, let Beau take your weight because you might get dizzy going from sittin’ to standin’.”

Brandon nodded, letting them both guide him how they needed. The last thing he wanted was to rudely wake up on another friggin floor. The lightheadedness was definitely there along with the fatigue so he was grateful when Beau helped him up and walked him over to Merlin’s bed. Once he was able to lie next to Merlin, though, and Tara and Beau left them alone, he felt a strange sense of relief rush through him. It was strange because everything had gone to shit just when it was getting back on track but it was a reminder that he needed, that they were in this together. No matter how shit it was.

He cupped his hand to Merlin’s cheek and kissed his temple. “Love you,” he murmured. Even though he was still sleeping, Merlin turned his head towards Brandon with a little mumbled hum and it was all Brandon needed to hold on to right now. Because everything else really was pretty shit.

LOG, COMPLETE