1.10: Bad blood

...I don't think I need to translate 'Kemoterapi', now do I? :'D
Speaking of chemo - if you think Andy looks bad NOW just wait and see what chemo can do  ~

For the extra-super-curious who guessed what was wrong with Andy along the way (some of you did! ^^ ), here's a detailed walkthrough of all the clues I left (yeeees, of course I left clues and maybe you found all of them!) + symptoms explained:


 ^  if you don't like spoilers, don't click that thing until after reading the story further down, heh.


Previously:  Death rides a pale horse




Story:


Mankind’s morbid fascination with death, dying and the afterlife has played a central role in various cultures throughout human history. The inevitable prospect of dying; this inescapable event that all living things face, has inspired speculations and suppositions since the dawn of time.
Andrzej too, in his darkest or most morbidly peculiar moments, had sometimes wondered when and how he would meet his Ultimate Outcome. With no significant familial disposition for hereditary illnesses, he usually panned out his most likely options to “heart attack at the ripe age of 87” or just “going to sleep and never waking up again” somewhere far, far out in his future. Less enticing options included “getting kicked in the head by a horse in an inattentive moment at the job” or “road rage-induced car crash” – the latter, in particular, had toyed with his mind after Connor’s recent accident.
Dying from leukemia in his thirties, however, had never been an option to cross his mind – yet here he was, doing just that.

It had been quite the drama reaching that conclusion, in fact. Following Andrzej’s near-fatal (that was how he felt it, anyway) faceplant into his horse’s neck, Phuong and Azaria had promptly called an ambulance, convinced he was dying from a heart attack. That was how Andrzej had woken up – with an IV sticking out his arm, electrodes on his chest and a pair of EMTs commenting in hushed whispers on the nature of “that jumpy heart beat”.
Andrzej had not really had the strength nor mental clarity to ask where they were going – he only hoped Annie would not be his attending nurse. She did not deserve that.
As far as that was considered, he was in luck. His attending nurse turned out to be a plump, middle-aged woman; eager to stab needles in him as if he were a voodoo doll as soon as it was established that his heart was not about to give up. It only took a blood count to determine that a severe anemia and a depletion of blood platelets were the culprits for the incident – a blood transfusion corrected the anemia somewhat which cleared his head and killed the headache and heart palpitations in the process. A more disturbing discovery from the blood count; however, was the presence of a large accumulation of immature, non-functional white blood cells. Consequently, the infection count was through the roof – not because of AIDS, as Annie had been kind enough to suggest earlier, but because Andy’s white blood cells; the brave, fearless soldier cells of his immune system, were essentially a bunch of toddlers without military training.

And so the cogs in the great Leukemia Machine started turning. Suddenly it was ‘additional tests’ here and ‘hospitalization’ there and everything was starting to feel quite surreal. Yesterday it had been a ‘flu’, this morning AIDS and now Acute Leukemia seemed to be the main suspect.

The attending nurse, whose expression was almost as tight as the scrubs she wore (she was a classic example of someone who refused to convert to a larger clothing size despite the overwhelming evidence of her mass suggesting she was no longer the size she might once have been), crossed her arms over her considerable bulk of chest and addressed Andrzej with the tone of a kindergarten teacher concretizing an abstract phenomenon to a particularly obtuse child:
,,Mr. Śle…sszzzyński,” she began with a mildly disapproving glare at her papers. ,,I would like. To ask you. Some questions. With your permission.”
Oh boy. This was going to be a joyride.
,,By all means, ask away,” Andrzej remarked casually. ,,No need to speak slowly; I’ve lived here for 8 years.”
The nurse, obviously flustered at this reply, pretended to correct the placing of her black-rimmed glasses as they rested on the snub of her nose. Something about their sharp edge made her look like an overweight owl on the hunt preparing to swoop down.
,,Well then,” she continued before starting to meticulously work her way through a long list of standardized questions. Her lack of independent thinking was remarkable, Andrzej concluded as he watched her scribble down his answers uncritically.
,,…And how much alcohol do we drink per week?” she asked without looking up from her papers.
,,Hard to answer,” Andrzej mused. ,,I am not familiar with your drinking habits.”
That made her raise her head. First, she bore an expression of ‘’urgh, how dumb is this guy…?”  but then, when she caught his jovial smirk and realized he was toying with her, she flared up:
,,Mr. Śleszyński, I have a job to do and more patients to attend!” she reprimanded him. ,,I do not have the time nor patience for your games!”
And so Andrzej refrained from making any more smart comments at her expense.

Communications with the assigned hematologist – one professor Hjalmar Særstrøm – were not particularly successful either. Dr. Særstrøm was a bony, desaturated man (indeed, it appeared he had no blood himself); ancient by appearance but with a stern look of disapproval wherever he ventured. His wrinkled head seemed much too large for the long, withered neck it was connected to, and combined with the dramatic bulk of his nose and his wide mouth he bore an uncanny resemblance to a vulture. He opened every conversation by addressing his patient as either ‘Anders’ or ‘Andreas’ - rather than sticking to one or the other he used them interchangeably, it seemed. In return Andrzej secretly dubbed him ‘Dr. Codmouth’.
It was Dr. Codmouth who delivered the final test results: Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.
,,It is the most common form of childhood leukemia,” he explained in his rusty, robotic voice.  Andrzej wondered to himself for a second if Codmouth was truly senile to bring up childhood cancers, but the old vulture continued:
,,I say this because experience has shown that adults under the age of 45 benefit from treatment in concurrence with pediatric cancer treatment protocols. That is, intensive chemotherapy.”
,,So what you’re saying is that I’m basically just a big kid?” Andrzej inquired. ,,How much benefit is that in terms of survival?”
,,Not quite like a big kid, no.” Codmouth remarked dryly. ,,Kids have about 90% chance of survival. Adults? About 30% are alive after 5 years.”
Silence.
Codmouth pretended to browse his papers.
,,We have a number of treatment options,” he explained once he assumed the initial shock had subsided. ,,There is a drug called cyclophosphamide. It is—“
,,-- a mustard gas derivative. A prodrug that gets converted by the CytP450 enzymes in the liver to a chemotherapeutic metabolite.”
Codmouth squinted suspiciously at his patient.
,,Are you of medical profession?”
,,Veterinary medicine, yes.”
,,I see.” Codmouth replied in a manner which indicated he did not much care for animals (nor for people, for that matter). ,,Well, Anders, with all due respect –“
Andy could only assume that meant none.
,,-- I think you should leave the medical details to the real doctors, then. “
And so Andrzej refrained from making any more smart comments in the presence of Dr. Codmouth too.

It was Annie who took the news worst. It shook her like a toddler shakes a rattle – Andy was quite sure he had never seen her quite this upset before and it was painful to watch. He hated the fact that he was the cause for her distress.
Aside from the obvious threat of a life-threatening, malignant illness and all the worries it brought, he had a creeping suspicion that Annie was also tormented by her earlier –luckily wrong- suspicion that Andy should have picked up the HIV virus from somewhere.
“It’s alright Annie, I understand” he assured her when she apologized profusely, although it wasn’t really and he didn’t really. That was an issue for another time, though.  
He tried to be optimistic about the situation… someone had to be. If not for his own sake, then for hers. He joked about how Annie had sometimes sighed that the two of them hardly had time to sit down for lunch together, but now that he was in the building right next to hers it should give them ample opportunity.
He told her in humorous terms about his exchanges with nurse what's-her-name and how she in the span of half an hour boiled him down to something resembling a school protocol with cryptic abbreviations and check marks galore. 
He told her about Codmouth (the name alone made her snort) and how the old vulture was probably just grumpy because he had less hair than one of his chemo patients. 

It was not until Andrzej was alone and darkness settled over his assigned hospital room that he had time and opportunity to fully grasp the meaning of… well, everything. Where his main focus earlier had been to try and remain positive in Annie’s company he was now hit square in the face by the gloomy, dark realization that he was most likely going to die from this. He would be leaving Annie behind and he would not be around to see Klara grow up. 
It was another more or less sleepless night, but this time it did not seem to matter much in the larger scope of things. From his 5^th story window he watched the lights of Copenhagen gradually go out, although some kept shining like beacons of hope throughout the night. Who would have thought the neon blare from a kebab shop in the vicinity could inspire such thinking? Tomorrow he would be starting chemo – but chemotherapy was like playing chicken with your cells:

Who dies first, cancer or me?

 

End of Season 1!
Season 2 starts here: Season 2 Prologue - A Great Day To Die

-inhales-

CUZ BABY NOW YOU’VE GOT BAAA-AAAD BLOOD
..no wait, sorry, that was silly.

THUS WE CONCLUDE ‘SEASON 1’! I’m sorry for the ridiculous wait with these last few episodes; things don’t always go the way I want them to, heh ^^
Dr. Codmouth is my new fav, lol. Andy learns it the hard way that not everyone appreciates a smartmouth, lol. 

Anyway, I hope you’ve enjoyed the ride so far! I’ll be taking a li’l break from my storyline for some weeks and theeeen ‘Season 2’ should roll around at some point during the summer ^^  …we’ll see who survives, heheh ~

Season 1 was basically just a big “DESTROY THE BOYS”, lol. Season 2 will focus more on the girls, girls, girls… ish.

 



These dumb kids reside with meee
Composition shameless ripped from
www.ehealthyblog.com/wp-conten…