By Your Side

Prologue

October 2nd “Louis!” Niall shouted as I collapsed on stage. The music had gone silent and through the pain caused tears I could see Liam, Zayn and Harry standing around me, worried expressions clear on their faces. I felt Niall’s arm move me slightly and pain shot up my spine, causing me to black out.

October 4th A man in white sat across from me. He had his glasses in one hand. “Can you tell me what’s wrong with me, doc?” I asked, afraid of the answer. Why else would they have sent me to a cancer specialist?

“Mr. Tomlinson, Louis. It seems you have a number of small tumors pressing at the base of your spine. But they look to be small enough and in a good enough location that we’ll be able to get them out with no trouble.  Don’t worry, in a week’s time you’ll be on the road to recovery.”

October 12th I awoke to find myself in a hospital bed, hooked to various machines that made annoying sounds. The doctor was standing in the corner of the room filling out paperwork. I tried to speak but it came out as a grunt, and I started choking. There was a tube down my throat. The doctor rushed over as a nurse rushed into my room. The nurse held me down as the doctor slid the tube from my throat, I felt like vomiting. “Don’t worry, Louis, that’s the worst part. The surgery went fine, you just need some rest.”

October 19th The doctor sighed as he sat across from me, in the same room where he told me about the tumors. He’d called saying he had news and the look on his face said it wasn’t good.

“The tumors are back. It’s as if we never performed the surgery.”

My heart dropped and I felt like I was going to be sick. I grabbed Niall’s hand, needing something to calm me down. “So…so what does that mean?”

“Well, after your surgery, we did a biopsy on one of the larger tumors and the results came back that it was malignant. I had hoped that we’d gotten it all, but it seems that wasn’t the case. But please, don’t think I’m signing a death sentence, with radiation and chemo-therapy I believe we can get rid of it, but we’d need to start as soon as possible.

And I guess that’s what brings me here, three months later, being told that the treatment wasn’t working. The tumors were growing and more were being found, including two in my lungs. As the door to the hospital room clicked shut, I sighed, my head on my pillow. So this is it, this is what it’s like to be told you’re dying.

Feels warning straight up, if you don't want them, the exit is that way, don't forget your coat on the way out.

As always comments are greatly appreciated. I expect the first chapter to be up by the end of next week, transitioning between jobs at the moment so things are a bit hectic.

Also, please don’t kill me.