the cold came, the dark days

Henry Fox first came into the hospital on a warm Monday morning when the sun was bright and high in the Texas sky, and the birds were chirping happily from their perches amidst leafy green trees surrounding the property. Alex remembers so specifically because he'd been taking his lunch on a bench outside of the hospital, scarfing down a sandwich before he was paged again, trying to fuel himself for the rest of his twelve hour shift. The sky had been that beautiful bluebonnet that the state was known for, stretching for miles without a cloud in sight, and May was tumbling into June, spring melding into summer, leaving the last tendrils of chill melting off into the heat of summer. Alex took his lunches outside as often as he could – the hospital was so dark in both energy and lighting that feeling the rays of sunshine on his skin had become something of a necessity to make it through a shift. Even in the height of summer when temperatures soared above 100 degrees and the heat was unforgiving, he found himself out here, desperate to get away and give himself some breathing space.

he remembers Henry specifically because he'd been smiling. That wasn't typical of hospital visitors, outside of the families coming in to deliver babies, and this blond man had on a grin bright enough to rival the sun. He'd been animatedly talking with his hands, laughing at something incredulously, shaking his head like there were no cares to weigh him down. Alex remembers immediately wanting to know his story, to ask why he was coming to a hospital of all places, with a big grin on his face and a reassuring hand laid on the woman's shoulder. She must be the one in need of care, Alex remembers thinking as he watched the trio enter the glass sliding doors. There's no way this beautiful, sunshine boy who walked into this hellscape of a building could be sick.

Oh how wrong he'd been.

It's been one month since that day. One month since an oncologist had given the diagnosis and Alex had been sent into the room to follow, armed with pamphlets decked out in pastel colors and kind words, to give the family the support and knowledge they would need through this trying time. It had been an absolute shock to his system when he'd entered the room and found his eyes meeting with a bluebonnet gaze, blonde hair slightly ruffled, face a mask of confidence to hide the unease that seemed to lurk beneath the surface.

"Uhh, Henry... Fox?" Alex had glanced disbelievingly at the chart in his hand before making eye contact again. "I'm Alex Claremont-Diaz, I'm an oncology nurse here at UT Medical. I'm going to be with you and your family through every step of this process." Alex keeps his tone upbeat but neutral; he's perfected the art of the 'patient voice,' the one that's melodically soothing without condescension. These patients don't need pity, they need answers, and that's what he's here for. "Y'all are going to be sick of me by the end of this, we're gonna be real close for the next year of your treatment," he promises with a cheeky wink to the woman, Henry's mother he assumes, who is dabbing at tears that seem to keep refreshing whenever she wipes them away.

Being an oncology nurse hadn't exactly been the career anyone expected from Alex; with his mom being one of the top surgeons in Texas, ranking high amidst everyone in her field and on the way to being nationally recommended, and his father the Chief of Medicine at UT Southwestern Medical Center, his family had been expecting a lot. June got off easy – writing was her passion and put her so far out of the realm of the medical field, her parents didn't even bother. But Alex had always had a fascination with the thick medical textbooks that filled the shelves of their mother's den. By 15 he could name every bone in the human body, and in high school he focused heavily on his science credits in hopes of going into college ready. He had big plans, after all, and he was not a force to be reckoned with once he put his mind to something.

But when he'd gotten to college, he'd been more drawn in by the nursing program than the pre-med track. Every time he'd gone to visit his dad at the hospital, it had been the nurses who had preened over him, made him comfortable while his dad was in meetings and on conference calls, checked in on him and fed him donuts from the break room. The doctors were all nice enough, but the nurses were the spirit of the hospital, and that's what Alex wanted to be. He wanted to make patients smile, wanted to help people understand and process what they were going through, and maybe help make their experiences a little bit more pleasant while they were in the hospital.