ArchivedLogs:Palliative

Palliative
Dramatis Personae Iolaus, Lucien, Matt
In Absentia	2013-06-17 '
Location <NYC> Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center - Upper East Side
Lucien has been a very familiar face around Sloan-Kettering, if a quiet one, often found shadowing his more exuberant older brother. He's no less quiet today, slipping through the halls quickly. In jeans and dark shoes and a green button-down, he doesn't particularly stand out. Matt is already here! Has been here. On and off but more on than off; today he's nestled under a pile of blankets in bed. Green knit cap on his head, eyes closed and his lips chapping. They're the first thing Lucien tends to when he heads quietly into Matt's room, a tub of Blistex on the bedside table picked up so that he can dab some on his fingertip, rub it gently to Matt's lips. His brother stirs, but slowly. "{--thought you were. Work.}" "{I was. Done, now.}" Lucien is quiet. He drops down to sit in the chair beside Matt, sliding a book -- /Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell/ -- off the nightstand, too. He opens it to a bookmarked page, but just slips his finger between the pages, not reading. Not long after Lucien arrives, Iolaus does, carrying a clipboard and wearing a white lab coat emblazoned with the Mendel Clinic logo. There is a stain on his shirt, coffee, large, like an entire cup had been spilled on it, but he does not seem to care. His face is fixed, firmly, and he does not give Lucien more than a glance as he walks over to sitt down on the edge of the bed. "Hello, Matt." he says, quietly. He nods, once, to Lucien, before turning his attention back to his patient. "How are you feeling? Well enough to talk?" he asks, reaching one hand out to rest gently on Matt's wrist. "Hello, Iolaus." Lucien switches back into English, a quick smile touching his lips. He slips the bookmark back between the pages, closing the novel in his lap. "Do you like fantasy?" Matt doesn't open his eyes but he does smile. His wrist turns over, fingers curling up towards Iolaus's. "Or -- Jane Austen?" "I've read Pride and Prejudice, but that's about it," Iolaus says, voice soft and gentle. More gentle than usual, as if his professional demeanor was dialed up to eleven. He flashes Lucien a look, hesitant, before his eyes return to the older brother. "Matt, we need to talk. Perhaps your brother should get us some coffee, if you feel up to having some?" Iolaus says, softly, a slight wince in his voice. "It's like Jane Austen's humour combined with magicians. And the Napoleonic Wars. It's kind of the best thing. You should --" Matt's fingertips brush against the inside of Iolaus's wrist, and then fall back against the bed. Now he /does/ crack his eyes open, just a hair. "Coffee -- has been making me feel kind of." His eyes close again. "I don't want coffee. Luci can stay." "Alright." Iolaus quiets for a moment, looking up at Matt's face, hand following the other man's down to the bed. "I have your latest test results, and they're not what we'd hoped." he says, voice quiet. "The treatment has slowed the rate of growth of the cancers, but it hasn't stopped it or reversed it, even with the chemotherapy." The doctor glances at Lucien for one moment, a flit of an apologetic look in his eyes before he turns back to Matt. "I haven't given up hope, and you shouldn't either. I have another idea for treatment, but it will take some time to synthesize, and it's... getting to be a long shot." "It was always a long shot," Matt answers Iolaus softly. He pushes himself a little bit more upright, fiddling with his pillows to prop himself slightly up. "I mean. I've got another week of this," which he says with a grimace, chemotherapy is /so much fun/! "but." His eyes open again. He glances over towards Lucien, then up towards Iolaus. "If it isn't. If it hasn't worked." Lucien is very quiet. His hands fold neatly atop the book in his lap. "I understand you might not want to go through a second round of chemotherapy." Iolaus says, voice level and gentle, as his hand gently rests on top of Matt's. "I still think you should try the second treatment plan that I am working on, but it's not nearly as side-effect heavy as the chemotherapy is." A brief pause. "I do have to tell you that the chemo is likely keeping the cancer from growing, and once the chemo stops, it very well may begin to grow again." Another pause, and the doctor gently squeezes Matt's hand. "I think you should weigh the possible benefits of more chemo." "It's not a second round, Doctor, I've --" Matt's hand turns over, very slowly, fingers curling up lightly against Iolaus's. "I was in treatment for almost a year /before/ I met you and this is my second round with lymphoma anyway." His lips twitch upwards into a quick smile. "This thing's kinda like Chumbawamba." "I've read your file," Iolaus says, softly, running his fingers over the surface of Matt's palm. "I know." There is a quiet pause, and he looks down at the bed for a moment, swallowing hard. When he speaks, to his credit, there is very little waver in his voice - almost unnoticable. "It definitely sucks," the doctor says, in his professional opinion. "-- I am still hopeful, though, Matt. I haven't run out of ideas yet, and this next one is even more radical than the last. Still, I think it might work. I wouldn't bring it to you unless I did." Matt squeezes at Iolaus's hand, gentle and reassuring as his warm smile is. "Why do people say 'sucks' like that's a /bad/ thing?" he's abruptly curious, "I mean, /man/, if cancer did /that/ people would be lining the heck /up/ to get cancered." Lucien lifts a hand, rubbing his palm against his mouth; it's threatening to curl into a smile but this soon fades. Matt's hand squeezes at Iolaus's again. "Doctor --" This time his tone isn't light and joking, just soft and steady. "Before I started this I'd -- I was /stopping/ treatment, I didn't want -- this has been going on for a long time, now. I think sometimes it's just -- time." Iolaus laughs and nods his head from side to side. "Maybe. But I think if I had to take chemo to get it to /stop/ sucking, I'd look elsewhere for all my penis-related needs." He says, voice light and teasing for a moment, before it fades back to seriousness. "Perhaps it is, Matt. I can have one of the palliative care physicians come in and talk to you about what they can do to help, but I'm still going to finish my research. If you're up for it, we might as well give it a hail Mary. It's not chemo or anything, after all." A pause. "But that's your call, and you don't have to make it now." "Yeeeah, OK, true, I wouldn't -- really /recommend/ it but, hey, if you're having /those/ kinds of needs --" Matt glances only so briefly to his brother! But then his gaze drops, his hand fidgeting in Iolaus's. He reaches his other hand for Lucien's; for a moment at the contact a faint shudder runs through him. Then stops. "That -- would be good," he says, softer, to Iolaus. And gives a small smile. "-- Though honestly I already have pretty good, um. Pain. Management." Lucien still says nothing. His forefinger traces back and forth against the cover of the book. He is not looking at Iolaus or his brother, gaze fixed at some indeterminate point on the far wall. Iolaus' smile is thin, but it is a smile. "I'm quite sure that you do," he says, softly. "Still. Palliative care is about more than just pain management." He pauses, once, and nods. "Alright. Let me see if I can go set something up for them to visit you today. I'll be back in a few hours to check in on you; I need to complete this genetic sequencing so I can start development on the new medication." Squeezing Matt's hand once more, Iolaus rises off of the bed, looking between the two siblings for a moment. He nods, once, then heads to slip out of the sliding door. Silence follows Iolaus out. Lucien leans forward slowly, forehead resting against Matt's side as the door closes behind the doctor.