August 19th, 2024
The next morning
Taylor Swift's Point of View
My eyelids are as heavy as bricks and it feels like I'm opening iron gates. My brain feels like it's covered in fog and I can't keep my head straight. My body feels lightly numb all over but I manage to slightly pick up my index finger. I open my eyelids ever so slightly and see a glass door reading "Intensive Care Unit." I begin to retain noises that are flooding the room. Beep, beep, beep rhythmically one after another. There's loud footsteps and intercoms talking throughout the halls. My gag reflex kicks in and I make quiet coughs. They've intubated me which is probably a good idea but right now it's insanely uncomfortable. My coughs become more aggressive but this noise brings the attention of several staff members. One of the doctors takes some tape off my cheek and slowly removes the tube. I cough and gag for a moment as this wasn't very pleasurable. A light is brightly shined in my eyes and start to become overwhelmed.
Taylor, look at me
Taylor, look up
Taylor, can you tell me where you are?
Taylor, when were you born?
Taylor, do you know why you're here.
Taylor, Taylor, Taylor.
Anxiety begins to attack my body and my ability to breathe is taken from me again. Panic infuses with my bones and I can hear myself hyperventilating. I bite down on my jaw and feel tears slowly trailing down my face.
"She's scared! You're overwhelming her! Give her a minute!" I hear Joe yell at the doctors but I know they're just doing their best.
"Sir we need to run these tests."
"Can you wait like five minutes?" He asks them. All the doctors slowly back off and all leave the room except one. Joe walks over to me and sits on a chair by my bedside. He's wearing latex gloves and one of those disposable gowns. He picks up my hand and my anxiety begins to calm.
"Hey." He says softly.
"Hey." I try to smile but it feels too difficult.
"You made it." He rubs my hand softly, avoiding the IVs.
"Your-your accent is cute." I spit out. Not sure why I chose that.
"Thank you." Joe laughs a bit, probably noticing I'm stilling not really awake.
"Trampoline."
"Huh?"
"12 years ago, I wanted to get a trampoline room. I never did."
"And???"
"I want a trampoline room."
"I have so many questions right now."
"I'm tired of letting myself die. I want to go home and live those stupid dreams out."
"We can do as many of those stupid dreams as you want." A very small comes across my face and I think of all those stupid childlike things I wanted to do when I was in my early 20s.
"Revoke my DNR."
"What?"
"Revoke my DNR. I'm not ready to die."
"Okay. We can do that." Joe smiles and kisses my hand. A couple of doctors walk back in and I finally am able to calm down.
"Ready?" One of them asks. I respond with a nod and they run their mundane routine.
"What's your name and do you know where you are?"
"Taylor Swift and I'm in a hospital."
"Year?"
"2024."
"Can you touch your nose and then my finger?" I touch my nose several times as the doctor continues to movie his finger. These tasks are apparently important to get an idea on my neurological state but maybe they could make it more fun. Other doctors are going through my vitals and changing out my IVs.
"I'm tired. Can I just go back to sleep?" I ask, barely being able to stay awake.
"Your neurological functions look great and so do the rest of your vitals. We can let you sleep and talk again later."
"Yay!" My excitement is clouded by a groggy and barely functional brain right now.
"I know I was all positive and stuff, saying you were gonna live but...we knew the odds. I can't believe you lived. I thought I was going to lose you." Joe tells me.
"I honestly can't believe I lived either. How's Liv and Elliot?" I ask.
"Both are doing great. If all goes well they will be discharged tomorrow. Your dad is staying at the house for a bit to help them out since they hadn't finished the actual nursery. He wanted to be here but he knew the kids needed help." Joe looks away for a moment and sighs.
"What is it?"
"It's-it's nothing." Joe's response is not very convincing. He bites his bottom lip and looks down.
"Tell me. Whatever it is, we'll handle it together." I smile softly.
"I know I said we should fight and all but the doctor. The surgery was really invasive and they had to perform a pneumonectomy."
"A what?"
"They had to remove one of your lungs. Your cancer is still spreading. They believe it's officially terminal at this point and your best choice of care is hospice..." He finally admits.
"What?" My lung(s) usually feel like they're being crushed but this was a different feeling. My heart and lung became linked as one and began to sink.
"The doctors have exhausted all options. They met and think the only option for you is to just go home. Spend the rest of your time with us and have a hospice nurse stay at our home."
"No. I-I no!" I begin to raise my voice.
"I know, but we will fight and make the most of it."
"No!" I scream.
"Hon, I know this isn't the ideal outcome..." He holds my hand but I quickly retract it.
"Ideal? Not ideal? I'm going to die! I am going to fucking die! I'm going to be dead and fucking die!?"
"You need to calm down, you're in shock."
"I am calm!" I scream.
"I can't talk to you when you're like this. Just breathe."
"I'm not going to die! I'm not letting myself die. Those doctors are fucking stupid. I need new doctor then. I need a new hospital and new tests and new everything. They just butchered me in the operating room so clearly they don't know what they are doing."
"They didn't butcher you, they saved your life!"
"I'm not dying. People who are dying wouldn't be able to get out bed or walk. I can do that." I explain.
"No you-"
"Watch me." I detach myself from IVs and all types of wires quickly. I slowly sit up which causes excruciating pain. I let out a harsh scream but still power through it.
"Taylor!" Joe gets up and begins to run over. I swing my body over and push myself off the side of the bed but when my feet touch the ground...it's like I was trying to take steps in water. I collapse and I bang my shoulder on the floor, causing it to what I can only assume to break or dislocate at the bare minimum. My ears ring and I get thrown back to all those memories. Olivia running to me when playing at the park. That warm summer night where fireflies were running all over. She was happy and content. I didn't know where we were going to sleep. Her smile though, those bright lights, it takes me back. It takes me to a time where everything was unknown and scary but I was happy. Unpaid medical bills and drowning in debt but Olivia kept me from giving up. But I get knocked back into reality with the same old mundane pain.
"I can do it." I mutter.
Joe kneels on the floor where my body is fully done and damaged. I sob loudly and can feel the tears streaming down my face like a river. "Help!" He yells which makes a couple doctors run in. They get me back into my bed slowly and reattach me to everything.
"Are we going to have to strap you in or are you gonna stay this time?" A nurse asks.
"I'll stay." I sigh and look down but see blood starting to stain my chest. The doctor sees this and pulls up my gown.
"You busted your stitches. Great, now you're at greater risk for an infection. Please, don't do that again."
"Fine. I want new doctors though."
"Mrs. Swift, there is nothing we can do. The entire department met. There's nothing we can do that we know of."
"See, not that you know of. What if another doctor knows? Have you done new research?" I begin to beg for them to give me new answers.
"There is nothing we can do. The sooner you realize that, the easier this process will be. You're gonna need to stay here for a couple weeks then we will discharge you to go home. What you do with your time then...that's up to you." The doctor looks at my shoulder which makes me flinch.
"Please, I'm not ready to die."
"Your shoulder is dislocated. We're gonna need to set it back in place as well. You just came out of surgery, we don't want anymore complications."
"I just want to see my kids and go home and live. I want my life back."
"I can't do anything about that. Now, stay still so I can fix you up."
I sigh and relax my body as much as I can but how am I supposed to be content with the life I have now? I mean, before they had hope for me to live when I had none. Now that I have hope it's too late for me to live. Ironic isn't it? "No. I won't give up. I am not letting cancer kill me. I'm going out on my own terms."
"Whatever you say."
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Authors note:
Next chapter is formatted differently and is actually quite surprising 😏
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