When he was called back for his turn, they took some blood from him as they usually did and took him back to his machine. It was a short process, at least fifteen minutes where they would give him some local anesthetic to help dampen some of the pain he would feel since it was in his lungs, and then sent him through a machine that would target his tumors. Even with the anesthetic, he could still feel the dull ache of radiation in his chest as the time passed by. And when he would get home, he would see evidence of his treatment from the redness of his skin.
"Is it still working?" Newt asked the doctor after he had finished. He rubbed absently at the irritated spot on his skin. The doctor, a woman this time, clicked her pen and held her clipboard against her thighs.
"As far as we can tell, yes. It is working." She said. Newt tapped his fingers on the horrible plastic hospital bed in thought.
"If I were to stop treatments, would I be this miserable?" The woman's expression didn't change. Newt suspected that she had gotten this question frequently, or she had expected him to ask it eventually.
"Given your current condition, I would say it is likely that you would be in a lot less pain if you stopped your treatments. Is this something that you are considering?" She asked. Dr. Franny. That was her name, he remembered suddenly.
"Yes, I think so. If I'm going to die anyway, why should it hurt so much the whole time? I can't eat because my mouth and my throat hurt too bad. When I do eat I throw it up within two hours. I can't stay awake longer than 4 hours at a time, and I just feel god awful. All the time." Dr. Franny set her clipboard on the table and sat in her chair. He always thought about how ridiculous they looked scooting around on those damn chairs, and then, he wanted one for himself.
"Well, if you stop the treatments, you will still be tired all of the time. There's nothing I can do to help you with that. For the pain in your mouth and throat, I can prescribe you something for that. But even if we stop treatments, you'll still be in a deal of pain, though less so than you are now. And your life expectancy will go down, of course." She said.
"How long?" Newt asked.
"Probably within a year. Maybe less." Newt let out a long breath. One year compared to five years was a big difference, and now that Newt was faced with that decision it was harder than he thought.
"Is that something you want to do?" She asked. Newt paused for a long time. He was so sure until now.
"I don't... no not yet." He finally said.
"Okay." She said, her lips pressed together in a tight smile. She made a note, this time in her small laptop before she closed the lid. "Now, before you go I would like to discuss some of your test results. Your red blood cell count was a lot lower than last time, it just means you're not getting enough oxygen. So we'll be sending you with an oxygen tank today to try and get those numbers back up. You will wear at all times, and I'll make sure to get you one to put on when you sleep where the tube is less likely to tangle. It's pretty self explanatory. Easy to set up, you'll leave with both of them today." She said. "Other than that things were pretty normal, considering."
"Okay." Newt nodded, but that familiar feeling of dread welled in his stomach.
"Do you have any other questions for me?" She asked, and when Newt shook his head, she stood up and gathered her things. "A nurse will come by with your things and you'll be all set."
She smiled at him before she left, and Newt was starting to wonder why he had asked Sonya to stay in the waiting room. He could have used some of her comfort now, or his mother's. Or Thomas's. Anyone's really would have done him well.
