zg_shadows | What the doctor said (Reply)

For those who don't know, my character is a kinfolk, married to Kazimir. As such she's a downtime character (one day I'll make a game!)

But as those on Shadow writers will know, I like writing stories.

Ms Lucy Drake to see Dr Walker

I stand and walk across to the door with the neat brass plaque and open it. Drake technically isn’t my name, but everyone stumbles across my married name. When I first attended the clinic it had taken less than a minute to explain why I was known as Drake.

My husband’s name is Nikitinevich. My maiden name is Drake. Most people can pronounce Drake.

I sit in the offered chair as the man flips through the notes. I’ve been through a battery of tests, scans and probings. I can tell by his air that the prognosis isn’t good, but I politely wait. The social mask across my features betraying nothing as he begins by clearing his throat and shifting uncomfortably.

“Well Lucy, I have had the results of the scans back. And they show …”

The words ebb and flow around me. Current situation and the stark reality of what is happening within my body. The fact that my fertility is compromised and that the only real cure will remove it forever. There is no other treatment, only pain relief and attempts to control it.

He ends by cheerfully reminding me that I have a teenage daughter, and that most women in this situation would consider their child-bearing days to be over. So would I like to book an appointment with the surgeon?

I, politely decline, stating that I wished to think about my options at this point. Equally politely I don’t break the heavy glass paperweight he has over his head. I don’t scream that he has no clue what my situation is, nor why I so very badly want another child. I instead agree to give it some thought and get back to him when I’ve made decision. I leave with a stack of brightly coloured leaflets, and a prescription for more painkillers. I refuse the prescription for contraception, something that would at least stop the bleeding from being so heavy.

The doctor doesn’t know what to make of me. Most women in my position would be jumping at the chance of solving the problem, even if for only a short time.

I go back to the office and deal with the afternoon in a slightly detached manner. I deal with the telephone call from the school telling me Kira’s been suspended for fighting – again. At home I deal with supper, tell Kazimir that his daughter is once more in trouble, and fail miserably to avoid telling him what the doctor said.

His response is “Can it be treated?” I can read the undercurrents – no matter how much the cost, we’ll pay it.

“Kazimir listen to me. I have endometriosis. It means I’m nearly infertile as it is. The only treatment is a hysterectomy, which means I’ll never bear a child again.”

Kazimir is concerned. He reiterates what the doctor has said, I have a child (currently performing the Teenage Strop of the Century upstairs.), if we don’t have another it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want me to be unwell. He doesn’t want me to die.

I grit my teeth and don’t crack him over the head with a frying pan.

No one understands.

Later that night, I can’t sleep. Kazimir is snoring loudly as I slip out of our bed and drape a dressing-gown about my shoulders. I look in on our daughter, the peace of sleep wiping the almost habitual sneer that her age seems to have plastered across her features nowadays. I walk outside into the back garden, padding across the grass to the shrine set up in the corner.

Luna looks down at me, her face silvery white as I finally allow the tears to fall.

Good Gaia, please. All I want is a son. Just one. A normal, everyday little boy who can carry on the family name. I love my daughter dearly, but Kaz so wants a son. Please. A son.

I pause. I love Kira dearly, but she’s not my daughter anymore. She’s a warrior of Gaia, born under the full moon. Today’s escapade of turning on a pack of bullies and leaving them suspended upside down was the tip of the iceberg. I saw my daughter’s future, written in blood, pain and death. Sure Glory and Honor would be there, but it didn’t change the simple fact that her life would be short, and likely to end before mine.

No parent should have to bury their child…

I take a deep breath. Gaia’s a mother, of all she would understand. Besides this was between me, her and the moon up above us. This was the secret I would never breathe to a single one of the Garou.

I want a child. I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl. I want a child. One who isn’t a frickin’ werewolf.