Beau Watson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
halfwaytoheaven) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dreamlikenewyork2013-11-18 10:43 pm
halfwaytoheaven) wrote in dreamlikenewyork2013-11-18 10:43 pm
"Things left unsaid."
Who: Just Beau
What: Each day as it comes
Where: Upper East Side, NYC
When: Monday
Beau had been annoyed the first day of chemo when he was hurling his guts up before he could even make it home from the hospital. He had hoped that would happen for the first few days. The first time, the sickness hadn't come until the second round. This time, he spent the whole first night throwing up just about every hour like clockwork. When the morning came for him to have to be up to make his appointment for the second dose, he had barely been able to keep his eyes open. He was zombie central, and slept through the entire second dose.
The third day, it was the head-to-toe pain. Everything hurt. The brush when he tried to brush his hair. The covers over him on the bed. The toothbrush when he tried to brush his teeth. The cup of tea was way too hot, he didn't get past the first sip. He spent the day of that dose curled up in a cocoon of three chenille blankets Austin had gone out and bought for him, including one over his head like a Jedi to drown out some of the hospital sound and shield his eyes from the fluro lights. That day, he hadn't been able to sleep because of the pain. He spent that session shivering with his head on Austin's shoulder just trying to wish the time to speed up.
Yesterday, he didn't want to talk or be touched. He saw the pain in Austin's eyes when he had snapped at him not to touch him when he tried to help him get dressed when he woke up. He didn't even shower, he went to the clinic in his pyjamas, unshaven, and wanted to be alone. Yesterday, Austin had to endure the first painful hurdle of sitting out in the waiting room with Angel and Rose, trying to wrap his head around the fact no two days were going to be alike and wondering how the fuck he was going to keep up when he was so tired himself. Beau felt guilty, and last night, cried himself to sleep.
Today was nosebleed central. When they woke up, blood was everywhere and Austin freaked. He woke up finding Beau's face caked in blood, the pillow soaked, the covers splattered. There was no way he would have been able to prepare for that. It was also the first time Beau was vomiting before his dose. He felt woozy in the shower after washing the blood off and watching it filter down the drain, so he got out and ended up being sick in the bathtub because it was closer than the toilet. That morning, when he brushed his hair, there were thick strands coming away on the comb. He got the electric razor out and shaved his head, and then tied a bandanna he found in Austin's closet around his head so he could go to the kitchen to try to keep down a bit of breakfast.
That morning, no one knew what to say to anyone.
NARRATIVE, SCENE COMPLETE
What: Each day as it comes
Where: Upper East Side, NYC
When: Monday
Beau had been annoyed the first day of chemo when he was hurling his guts up before he could even make it home from the hospital. He had hoped that would happen for the first few days. The first time, the sickness hadn't come until the second round. This time, he spent the whole first night throwing up just about every hour like clockwork. When the morning came for him to have to be up to make his appointment for the second dose, he had barely been able to keep his eyes open. He was zombie central, and slept through the entire second dose.
The third day, it was the head-to-toe pain. Everything hurt. The brush when he tried to brush his hair. The covers over him on the bed. The toothbrush when he tried to brush his teeth. The cup of tea was way too hot, he didn't get past the first sip. He spent the day of that dose curled up in a cocoon of three chenille blankets Austin had gone out and bought for him, including one over his head like a Jedi to drown out some of the hospital sound and shield his eyes from the fluro lights. That day, he hadn't been able to sleep because of the pain. He spent that session shivering with his head on Austin's shoulder just trying to wish the time to speed up.
Yesterday, he didn't want to talk or be touched. He saw the pain in Austin's eyes when he had snapped at him not to touch him when he tried to help him get dressed when he woke up. He didn't even shower, he went to the clinic in his pyjamas, unshaven, and wanted to be alone. Yesterday, Austin had to endure the first painful hurdle of sitting out in the waiting room with Angel and Rose, trying to wrap his head around the fact no two days were going to be alike and wondering how the fuck he was going to keep up when he was so tired himself. Beau felt guilty, and last night, cried himself to sleep.
Today was nosebleed central. When they woke up, blood was everywhere and Austin freaked. He woke up finding Beau's face caked in blood, the pillow soaked, the covers splattered. There was no way he would have been able to prepare for that. It was also the first time Beau was vomiting before his dose. He felt woozy in the shower after washing the blood off and watching it filter down the drain, so he got out and ended up being sick in the bathtub because it was closer than the toilet. That morning, when he brushed his hair, there were thick strands coming away on the comb. He got the electric razor out and shaved his head, and then tied a bandanna he found in Austin's closet around his head so he could go to the kitchen to try to keep down a bit of breakfast.
That morning, no one knew what to say to anyone.
NARRATIVE, SCENE COMPLETE