Nothing's Ever Easy

SkyGirl5

SkyGirl5

Cadet
Nothing's Ever Easy
Genre: S/V, AU
Summary: Sometimes just because someone lives through something, it doesn't mean they survive.
Sequel to That Summer

14 Chapters (plus prologue and epilogue)
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Prologue (below) Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8
Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 + Epilogue




Prologue
Sometimes just because someone survives something, doesn’t necessarily mean they live through it. A strange concept, I know. It sounds ridiculous and impossible and if I hadn’t had a first hand experience with it, I wouldn’t have believed it either. ‘Survive’ and ‘live through’ seem to be synonyms, don’t they? Well, that’s because they are, in the physical sense anyway, but just because someone’s still breathing and their heart is still beating, doesn’t mean they’re the same someone.

You see, sometimes when a person had brain surgery or an aneurysm or another brain-affecting medical incident, their personality changes. I’m not sure if there is a medical explanation for this, and most likely, even if there was, I wouldn’t understand it anyway. All I know is that it happens; it happened right before my eyes.

For some people, they were once very timid or shy and then they become very outgoing and talkative. Others used to be sweet natured people but turned… well, I wouldn’t say mean, but less sweet. Still others went from outgoing to timid and any other type of personality switch you could think of.

When someone’s personality changes so, it’s very difficult for everyone involved. They’re the same person physically, but it doesn’t seem that way because a personality is who that person really is. So, in a way, it’s like they’re a different person; like part of them – their old personality – died and a new one was reborn in it’s place.

This change, though not the fault of the now different person, causes great strain on the people who knew them the best. It’s hard to understand, hard to deal with. You become conflicted. On one hand, the person you loved and who you though was dying is alive and it’s wonderful, but its not the same person.

Personality shifts have caused the break up and/or stress of many relationships and families. It’s hard; I know first hand just how hard it is. It’s one of those things that are so hard some days you just want to give up because you can’t take it anymore. You want to give up, but you don’t; you can’t. But sometimes, on the better days, a glimmer of what that person once was shines through and then, in that moment, it all becomes worth it.
 
AA is back.

I sense several chapters of angst.
So, Sydney survived the surgery, but something affected her personality.
I hope she gets back to her loving, horny, self eventually.
 
I'm so glad that she survived the surgery. But she had accepted dying when she was in the hospital.. so it's going to be great to see how surviving affected her. :smiley:

Great start. Thanks for the pm.
 
I just know that this is going to be awesome!!

I wonder how bad Sydney gets for michael to think of ending their relationship?
 
Chapter 1
It’s amazing the things that go through your mind when you’re waiting for someone’s death to be announced. Seriously, very random things. When was the last time I ate? I wonder how many speckles are on this tile floor. Did anyone ever count how many licks it took them to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? See, very random.

I had parked myself in the corner of the surgery floor’s waiting room. Other families came and went; I stayed not even knowing how many hours had passed. For the first half hour, I was on complete and total edge. Every time the door would swing open, I’d nearly jump out of my seat. I was convinced it was Dr. Jamison coming to tell me that Sydney had died the moment he opened up her skull, or the moment he touched her brain matter. It was never him, though. It was always another doctor or another family coming in. Still, I was convinced it would be only a matter of moments before he did come in.

Somewhere between letting Sydney’s hand slip from mine and taking a seat in that waiting room, I lost all my faith. Maybe it was the looks the nurses gave me as they walked past; maybe it was just the harsh reality sinking in. I don’t know what it was, but my faith was gone and I sat there cursing myself. What had I done? I had sent Sydney to be murdered essentially all because of my selfishness. She wasn’t going to make it through the surgery; she would die within a matter of minutes. I was horrible. I could have had two, maybe three more days with her, but no, I had to be selfish and horrible and send her into brain surgery. Stupid.

At the one-hour mark, a nurse came by and brought me some food. I picked at it, since it was pushing twenty-four hours since I had last eaten, but I didn’t each much. For starters it was hospital food – yuck. Secondly, I wasn’t really all that hungry. I was still in that ‘numb’ area of existence.

Another forty minutes passed and I began to plan. I really had nothing else to do, really, so I started organizing things in my head for Sydney’s funeral. Incredibly morbid, I know, but all my hope had gone away; I was left with reality and it sucked. I thought Sydney might like a funeral in a church and, because of my prior encounter with the minister downstairs, I had realized that churches weren’t so bad. I decided she needed lots of white, peaceful flowers and maybe I’d give a speech… maybe.

Sitting there, I realized that I was probably the closest thing to family that Sydney had at that moment and, for the first time, I realized why she had left me everything in her will. We were alone in this world, our parents gone; all we had was each other. Now, all I had was me.

As I was thinking about funeral arrangements, a horrible thought hit me: hospital bills. How expensive was brain surgery? Surely it was a figure I couldn’t even fathom in my wildest dreams. That was… bad, definitely bad. Sure, I’d make some money selling her father’s house (which was already on the market), but it wasn’t like Liberty had the highest real estate values in Alabama. Not even close. The mortgage was paid off, so the profit might have been thirty, maybe forty thousand if we were lucky, but no more than that. Something told me that would barely even put a dent in the hospital bills Sydney was wracking up with each passing second.

As one hour faded into three and then three into five, I began to wonder, what was going on back behind those shiny ‘do not enter’ doors? Was Sydney still alive, her brain open on some operating table? Or was she dead, long dead and the doctor was just too afraid or too… something to come and tell me?

The hours wore on and a bit of my hope slowly returned. If she was in fact alive, wouldn’t the surgery be almost over? How long did it take to remove a tumor slightly larger than a golf ball from someone’s brain? I had absolutely no idea, not even the slightest clue, but obviously it was going on six hours.

Eventually, my thoughts wore me out and I fell asleep in that chair in the waiting room. I was so sick of waiting. It might sound bad, but it was true. I was sick of waiting for them to come and tell me it was over. They tried but, sorry, no-can-do. If it was going to be over than just tell me damnit! I just wanna know. Life, however, doesn’t work that way and things need to play out as they’re meant to. I didn’t understand that then, but I understand it now.


I awoke to a nurse shaking me gently. “Wa? Whasit?” I mumbled sleepily.

“Dr. Jamison will be out in a moment to speak to you Mr. Vaughn,” she told me before walking away.

I sat up, rubbing my hands over my face, trying to wake myself up. I squinted down at my watch and saw that it was nearly midnight meaning Sydney had been in surgery for over seven hours. The ‘do not enter’ door creaked open and I saw Dr. Jamison approaching. His face looked drawn, his scrubs were dotted with patches of sweat and he was pulling off the multi-colored cap on his head. Just get it over with, I wanted to shout. Just tell me; don’t drag it out with all that ‘we did everything medically possible’ felgercarb.

“Sit down Michael,” he said, gesturing towards the seat I had just vacated. I sat, but I think the sitting was more for him than for me. “When we got in there we found exactly what we had expected – that the tumor was surrounding her brainstem. We did our best to remove it without damaging the viable part of the stem as well as the surrounding tissue…,” he paused and took a deep breath. Here it comes…

“We were able to remove every visible part of the tumor. In my opinion we got it all,” he told me.

Wait a second… “So…,” I began slowly, my voice barely above a whisper. “So… she’s alive?” I asked. Surely this couldn’t be… could it? Before taking her into surgery he had told me that she wouldn’t survive this… this was… impossible.

“She made it through the surgery,” he said. I let out a choked breath and the doctor continued. “She’s got a long road ahead of her Michael, and is by no means out of the woods yet. She’s in a medically induced coma to minimize the brain damage the surgery may cause. See, the brain doesn’t like it too much when we mess with it, so it might swell, which could be very dangerous.”

“But… she’s alive…” I said in total disbelief.

“She is,” the doctor said. I looked up at him and saw that, much to my surprise, he actually looked very emotional. “I…I never would have thought this was possible. By all medical explanation she should have died… this truly is a miracle.”

A miracle… or… was it an answered prayer? Maybe it was both, but at that point I had no idea. “Can,” my voice came out harsh and barely audible so I cleared my throat, “Can I see her?”

Doctor Jamison nodded before standing and leading me though the doors to the post-op recovery room. Sydney was in a corner, surrounded by machines monitoring everything on her body. There was a breathing tube down her throat, forcing precious oxygen into her lungs. Her entire head was wrapped in white gauze though a few tufts of her dark hair protruded around the edges.

Cautiously, I sat down beside her and I picked up her hand. I held it to my face and felt its warmth. I needed to do that, just to make sure she really was there, alive. I kissed her hand gently and then I started to cry. I cried with relief, with fear, with sadness and with uncertainty for the days to come. For the first time in my life I really, truly cried and I didn’t even care that the entire post-op recovery room was watching me do this. I had my Sydney and that’s all that mattered to me.
 
I can see a long road ahead of them now... Lots of things to catch up on and deal with... I have a feeling that her ex might come back, and then there is still the "town" to deal with... I can forsee ansgt for a lot of this!! :( But she's ALIVE!!!! :smiley: Great update can't wait for the next chapter
 
7 hours is a long time to wait.
I can understand him thinking about her funeral knowing she would most likely die.
I think he was thinking very logically for the situation he was in.

She survived the surgery and he got to see her.
I'm sure the angst will come when she wakes up.
 
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