(Part 6)

“The diagnosis is chronic myelogenous leukemia.”

Everyone in the trauma room stopped what they were doing and looked up at Dr. Weaver, who had just entered. In her hand there was Abby’s chart and the results of tests straight from the lab. The room, once intense and running high with emotions, became dead quiet. No one moved as they waited for the doctor to elaborate further.

Weaver inhaled deeply before continuing. “The CBC and white count revealed an abnormally high amount of white blood cells. Fifty thousand white blood cells per micro liter to be exact. The number of the other white blood cells, eosinophils and basophils, has also increased and immature forms of red blood cells have been found. Abby lost consciousness today due to anemia, which is common in leukemia patients.”

Everyone was still silent. It seemed surreal. This couldn’t be actually happening. They already lost one member of the staff and friend to cancer, and now it was happening all over again. The resentment, the what-ifs, the heartaches, the never-ending struggle to live, and the outcome always being the same. It was the same cycle all over again, and no one felt strong enough to suffer this ordeal once more.

Unspoken outcomes hung in the air like mist; the mist could become thicker and leave you abandoned in it, unable to see and unable to have a sense of direction where to go. Or it could fade into nothingness, not leaving a single trace. As if you woke up one day and realized it was all a dream. Such were the possible outcomes of Abby’s fate; Abby’s life.

“What’s the chance of survival?” Someone had asked, breaking the unwritten rule of silence.

“Median survival is four to six years. Yet survival after development of the accelerated phase is usually less than a year, and only a few months after the blastic transition. The chance of survival is… well, you know all this already.”

Although the staff knew all this, they needed to hear it again… as if they were mistaken in their medical training and it ends up being that the disease is nothing to worry about and they could all go home and laugh about it tomorrow. But deep inside, everyone knew otherwise.

Carter knew this all too well. It felt like his brother had come back to life and was dying all over again. He had been down this road once, and once was too many times in his opinion. Now he had to go back to that place and somehow survive as well.

The sunlight strewn into the hospital room, quickly spreading its warmth to the bed. Abby felt the warmth even before she opened her eyes. When she did, she instantly noticed the figure resting in a chair next to the bedside. Carter apparently had stayed the night. His shirt and lab coat were wrinkled, his hair tangled, and stubble appeared on his face. Even like that, Abby had to admit he looked good. Carter must have felt her staring at him because his eyes opened at that moment. When he saw she was awake, all remnants of sleep quickly dispersed.

“Good morning.” Abby greeted happily. Carter returned the smile.

“You’re awake,” He noted aloud while rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“You stayed all night?” She asked curiously. He nodded his head. “You didn’t have to do that you know.”

“I know.”

Carter’s expression suddenly became cloudy and Abby was unable to tell what he was thinking.

“Did you know?” was all he asked, already knowing of the answer.

Abby looked away from his soft caramel eyes and in a small voice whispered yes.

Carter hung his head down and in an equally small voice asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Abby still didn’t look at him. She sighed, wondering how to put her thoughts into words. “I just couldn’t. Not after what you’ve went through these past years…”

Carter suddenly jerked his head up, surprising Abby. She noticed that there were tears forming in his eyes now, and it killed her that she was the one who put them there.

“I could’ve helped you. I could’ve saved you-”

“You can’t save everyone Carter.” Abby repeated her words from yesterday. Yet this time, her voice gave away. Tears were starting to stream down her face. She hated having him to see her like this; she wanted to be strong. But she didn’t have enough energy to stop.

Carter stood up and walked over to Abby, putting his arms around her. As she grasped onto him with all her strength, she let everything out. She was hysterical. Carter held her against him, rubbing her back consolingly. As she became lost in the moment-lost in him- she never even noticed his tears falling.

“It’s going to be okay.” Carter whispered. These words were to not only to comfort Abby, but himself as well. “It’s going to be okay.”