𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 • 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡é𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐭

70

peaches

      ROSA SWUNG HER legs backwards and forwards as she waited patiently in the doctors office at the hospital. They'd flown back earlier that day and requested an emergency appointment. Rosa's bruises were spreading throughout her stomach and back and she had to have emergency blood work.

The doctor rushed back in, his eyes scanning the document in front of him. He shook his head. "I'm sorry. But when you first arrived here you had acute myeloid leukaemia. That was hard enough to treat."

Rosa chuckled as Timothée grabbed her hand, reassuring her.

"Fortunately that hasn't come back." The doctor sighed. "Unfortunately It has developed."

Rosa raised her eyebrows. "I'm sorry, I don't understand?"

"Rosa, you now have chronic myeloid leukaemia."

Timothée dropped her hand. As though he couldn't reassure her anymore. As though she simply was as screwed as she believed she was. As though she was going to be out through hell and back because of this awful disease.

"There are a few options." The doctor was about to read them out when Timothée suddenly stood up and left, excusing himself. "Is he okay?"

"Please. What are the treatment options?" Rosa asked, her voice shaky.

"We can try radiotherapy. Although that increases your risk of other cancers. We can try chemotherapy again to shrink the cancer and then perform a blood marrow transplant. You would need at least 3 clears afterwards to be assured the cancer has gone. Chemotherapy should take about 6 months." The doctor watched Rosa's face fall. "I know it's not what you want to hear but I'll just let that sit with you for a little while. We need to start treatment stat."

"What if I don't?"

"Hm?" The doctor raised an eyebrow.

"What if I refuse treatment? What if I don't want it?"

"Miss Hampton I'm going to say this very bluntly. You would die." The doctor turned around, leaving the room in silence.

END OF ACT TWO