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The dancing around the house was replaced by assisting to do basic tasks. The laughter was replaced by sobbing. Charlie as he was known was replaced by the new Charlie, sick and barely able to function.
They knew it was nearly the end. They knew it was coming but that didn’t make it any easier. Their friends had been preparing. Even into their older age Nick and Charlie had always been Nick and Charlie. Now at 73 and 74 their health was catching up on them. Charlie had been diagnosed with cancer the first time 10 years prior, in and out of remission, the cheers when they thought it was finally gone only to be replaced by sadness and grief when it returned. It became the normal, he’d recover and be in remission then it felt like there was a timer counting down until their life was flipped on its head once again.
Charlie was once again in treatment, trying with all his strength — which was greatly reduced — to fight through it again. He’d always been a fighter, whether it was his mental health, the crap with his mom, the bullying, his outing, the times he and Nick fought — although granted that wasn’t often — and the times he’d fought for his friends, Charlie didn’t go down without a battle but nowadays it was getting infinitely harder to fight.
“I can’t do this anymore Nick. I can’t keep fighting, I’m exhausted.” Charlie croaked out.
“We’ve said it since day one Char, you only fight as long as you can, as long as you want to. If you can’t do treatment anymore we’ll stop. That’s okay.” Nick said a small tear rolling down his face. He ran his thumb over Charlie’s head where his curls haven’t been for a while, never having enough time to properly grow back before his hair fell out again from the chemotherapy.
“My body can’t take it anymore Nick, I’m sorry.” Charlie sobbed out.
“No sorries, it’s still the rule.” Nick said a small smile on his face remembering back to the times they were mostly carefree back when they first met at 15 and 16. “I’ll go and find a nurse to talk to about the future of the chemo and that you don’t want it.”
Nick went to find a nurse to talk to about the future of Charlie’s chemotherapy. As he does he reflects on the last 10 years. Charlie saying that his body couldn’t take anymore is no joke, the bouts of sickness that left him feeling run down and often left him in tears. The frequent loss of appetite on days he actually had treatment because his body just couldn’t deal with it, which when he managed to eat the sickness would undo what he’d worked so hard to eat. The loss of his hair which was just another reminder of the fact he was sick was mourned by both men, every time it happened. The nurses suggested he could wear a wig so the constant reminder wasn’t there but Charlie said there was other people who could benefit more and turned it down. The days they took all the precautions they could to avoid him getting something as small as a cold because his immune system was constantly compromised and it could be deadly and he ended up getting more sick anyway because nothings going to stop infections completely.
His mind stopped racing and remembering the last few years as he approached a nurse.
“Hi, I’m Nick Nelson-Spring husband of Charlie, he’d like to talk to someone discussing the future of his treatment, would that be possible please?” Nick said, running his hand through his now white hair, something he’s done for as long as he can remember.
The nurse nods and goes to get the head nurse, who gives Nick a warm smile knowing how hard times like this can be for the families of patients. Nick and the nurse walked back to where Charlie was getting his treatment, he looked exhausted, the fatigue being something else that really effected him as a side affect of his treatment.
Charlie looked to the nurse with a smile on his face, which showed every line and wrinkle — a map of every experience he’s had and the long life he’s lived.
“I don’t want any more treatment, I think this time is going to be the end, I want to feel more like myself when I die, I don’t want to feel like the zombie I currently feel like. I don’t want anymore. I won’t change my mind.” Charlie said through tears, his voice breaking.
Nick took Charlie’s hand in his own minding not to hurt him which is a lot easier now with his body being more fragile as the days went by and ran his thumb over Charlie’s providing moral support the way he always has.
“Okay Charlie we understand that, you’ll have to fill out some paperwork or Nick can do it for you and if you want we can refer you over to hospice care. The chemo isn’t working as it has every other time this time.” The nurse said, remorse filling her voice.
“Hospice care won’t be needed.” Nick said quickly. “We’ve been preparing for this every time the cancer has come back for 10 years, we always knew it was a possibility. Charlie will be at home when he dies the way he’s always wanted to be, I will care for him until he does, I’m fully capable.”
The nurse looked between Nick and Charlie who both smiled and nodded and she returned the smile and walked off to get the forms for denial of further treatment.
When the forms were completed by Nick and that round of treatment was complete, Nick pushed Charlie’s wheelchair out of the hospital he got him in the car, got his wheelchair in the car and drove them home, as hard as it could be for Nick he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Nick got the two of them home and he carried Charlie in the house, which even though his strength wasn’t quite what it was before, Charlie’s once slim frame was now very skinny due to the chemo and his nausea, another thing this sickness has done to his body.
Their kids now adults come round more frequently to help them with things they can no longer do, so Nick left Charlie’s wheelchair in the boot he didn’t have the energy to lift it again, knowing that his kids could get it out later.
“I want to dance with you Nick.” Charlie started, “We used to dance together all the time, I want to do it again.”
“Charlie love, you barely have the strength to stand let alone dance.” Nick said quietly.
“I’ll find away, I want a few minutes to feel like myself again Nick, please don’t deprive me of this, please.” Charlie begged.
“Okay, come on then, are we going to the kitchen like we used to do?” Nick said, gently lifting Charlie to his feet, using all his strength and supporting Charlie’s whole weight.
Charlie nodded and Nick walked him through to the kitchen. Stopping to ask Alexa to put their first dance song on.
Charlie put his head on Nick’s shoulder and they danced their first dance again, as they had done every anniversary. Their anniversary wasn’t for a few days but there was a reason Charlie was asking to do it that day so Nick went along with it.
When the dance finished Nick guided Charlie back to the living room and sat him back on his chair.
They spent the day just existing as themselves, chemo days were always hard on Charlie so those days were usually spent just relaxing and allowing him to recover.
Nick received a phone call off their daughter to say they won’t be able to get down that day because one of the kids was ill. Charlie told them not to worry and to come down anyway which was very out of character, normally he was very careful. They refused saying they’d never forgive themselves if something happened to him.
The rest of the day went by normally, they carried on relaxing as a couple letting Charlie recharge and feel a bit more human. The nausea once again making it fairly difficult to eat but as every other day Charlie fought through and managed to eat something of his favourite meal.
The two went to bed that night Nick carried Charlie up the stairs and into bed. They were offered adaptions to their house to make it easier for Nick but Nick was adamant they didn’t need it and Charlie was content to let him.
Nick curled up behind his husband as they both fell into sleep.
🍂
Nick woke up the next morning, bright and early as he usually did, Charlie still being asleep which wasn’t unusual after a treatment day.
Nick went downstairs made himself and Charlie a drink before going upstairs to get his husband.
It was as he got closer to him that he noticed there was no rise and fall of Charlie’s chest, he wasn’t breathing. Nick fought through the immediate panic and dialled for an ambulance. He stood by the front door willing the paramedics to come quicker. They arrived and Nick led them up to their bedroom, he sat in the corner of the room as a pain pulsed through his chest several times, a suffocating cold crowding around him. The paramedic questioned him and he dismissed them so they could focus on his husband.
They called the official time of death at 8:01am although they reckoned he probably died a couple hours prior but they couldn’t know for sure.
Nick called his daughter so she could come and see him before he got took by the funeral directors and she could help him with the arrangements.
The paramedics left before she got there but when she did, she pulled her dad into the biggest hug, them crying on each others shoulders.
“I’m sorry Livi, I tried, I really did. I tried to keep him well and safe and- and I failed.” Nick sobbed onto his daughters shoulder.
“Papa you didn’t fail, you did so much for Dad, you’ve been helping him through his illness for 10 years Papa. He couldn’t ask for a better husband and he loved you so much.” Olivia said, holding Nick’s face so they were looking at each other so she knew he was listening.
After Livi had phoned the funeral directors and they had taken Charlie away, Nick spent the day at his daughter’s house with her family so he wasn’t alone. The pain in his chest got worse and shortness of breath occurred but he thought nothing of it and he continued with his day.
He got home and made his bed before getting into it.
🍂
When his daughter called the next morning, he didn’t answer, when she came round to check on him he didn’t stir. When she phoned the ambulance and they came round they called the time of death at 9am.
When they reported the cause of death they put Takotsubo cardiomyopathy.
Death by a broken heart.