The Voices of Vega

Hello my readers :)

This is not a "writersvoices is disappearing" post, but it is a comment on the direction of the journal.

As I posted a few months ago, I have been finishing up a first novel and between that and my other writing projects, something had to give and unfortunately this journal was one of the things pushed to the back of the line. My writing life has not slowed down at all and as a result, this journal is still suffering. So, I've made a decision.

I am going to cut back to a once every couple of weeks post. I LOVE the story I've developed and I wish I could do more with it, but something has to give in the life of this writer and for me right now, it's fic. Please, please, keep reading and commenting. I just don't know how often I will be updating. Please know that Mulder and Scully are hot on the trail of the big bads right now. ;-)

I hope that through my fic, you've come to enjoy my writing. After all, one of the many reasons for writing is to connect to others. If you are interested, you can follow my blog at vegawriters.com and my other character blogs at vega_voices.

Thanks again!

~vegawriters~

So here is why I've been so silent the last few months. It's why I've been so cryptic the last few months. It isn't about the risk of loosing Scully, although that of course is part of the worry.

We have a new chip in hand. Charlie helped us track it down and in doing so, we have opened a door on exactly where the "program" went. I'm not ready to talk about it yet. I'm barely ready to talk about this.

We have a chip in hand.

The question now ... what do we do with it?

Scully's treatments seem to be working, but of course now we have other questions. We are both hesitant to even approach any kind of MUFON group right now.

But if her treatments are working ... then this was never cancer at all but a virus. And the cancer treatments that continue in this country for this kind of cancer ... are proof to me that these women (and some men) remain test subjects until the very end.

In my perfect world, there is no tumor. There is no cancer. There is no secret organization that operates separate from the government and utilizes citizens to work its will. In my world, we love and trust.

But that is my perfect world and if you've been paying any attention at ALL recently, you know that the perfect world of m dreams does not exist.

So I take close seconds. I worry that the woman I love is so painfully thin but take heart that the treatment seems to be working. I worry that there will be nothing i can do for her ever but stand at her side, but take heart that she loves me. I worry that the path we have recently chosen to walk down together will drag us right back to the shadows but know that when we walk together, we can do anything.

I am cryptic for a reason. I am paranoid.

But know that we have someone both of us trust beyond all hope and measure watching our backs.

Is it too much to hope that together, we can make that perfect world? Or with the clock ticking and time hurtling us ever faster toward that pre-set deadline ...

Is what we hope to do simply a delaying of the inevitable?

It isn't that we've been out of town or even overly busy. The house IS painted though. Finally. And Mulder had this idea to fix the deck in the back, so he's been out there every day and let me tell you, it's been a fine view on my end. ;-)

The hard labor has been good for Mulder who has been very preoccupied, which is one of the reasons we haven't been around as much. He's paranoid to talk about what is on his mind - even to me half the time. Hopefully we can tell you soon, but this is Mulder and he wants to be sure.

I have noticed a couple of side-effects of my new treatment. My appetite has dropped off drastically. I'm not sick, but I'm not eating either. I've lost close to twenty pounds and that has affected my strength. In addition, I've had a couple of minor seizures. Nothing serious, but it's something to pay attention to. As a doctor, I worry. As a patient, I worry even more. But the tumor continues to shrink. I keep thinking that if I can just get through this part ... then everything will work itself out.

Last night we drove into DC for the fireworks. It was simply ... magical. Crowded, but magical. I hope everyone had a wonderful 4th of July and that you are all having a wonderful summer. I promise to not be such a stranger!

Oh! I am so sorry we've been absent. About a week and a half ago, Mulder and I threw the bags in the car and drove up to Maine. We found a bed and breakfast that took dogs and so Maggie had her first road trip with us! There was a moment in time of perfection - Mulder and I walking down the coastline and Maggie bounding ahead. It was like every cheesy commercial you've ever seen in your life and it was us, yes us. It felt perfect. It was perfect.

Even better news: the tumor is shrinking. Yes, my last test result proved positive. The tumor is shrinking!

Honestly, I haven't been this happy since the lifted the charges against Mulder.

He has not only finished painting the outside of the house, but most of the inside as well. The bedroom is now this lovely burgundy that I was very hesitant about when he brought it home but now I can assert that he was right and I was wrong and the lingering paint in his hair is simply adorable. We may have to cut some of it out.

I’m sorry if we’ve been absent as of late. Work caught up to me and Mulder is being … Mulder. He’s got the scent of something and honestly, it may be easier and safer to break up a dog fight than to try and shake Mulder off a trail when he’s committed. He won’t tell me what it is. I’d worry, but I’ve learned something … he never changes. It’s almost funny. I’ve come to see it as endearing if not a little frustrating at times.

I go in for yet another test tomorrow. I tell you, I’m starting to think that the machine and I are forming a close, personal relationship. We’ve had some nice, in depth conversation, that scan machine and me. I’ve named it Bob. Not original, but funny nonetheless. Maybe just to me?

Last weekend, Mulder and I finally got around to going and seeing the new Star Trek movie. It was like watching a little boy finally get a pony. He was so, so, so excited. We took time and curled up in the back of the theater and then he went and bought tickets to a second showing. I am still laughing. He has problems with some of the way they rebooted the series but already has a crush on Zoe Saldana, so …

Now, if Chris Pine is single and into older women … ;-)

But anyway, the movie was highly enjoyable and I think they treated the original series with a lot of respect while still allowing for some fascinating creative freedoms. And Leonard Nimoy can still kick anyone’s ass.

I should get going, but I hope everyone is doing well.

Sunday.

It’s become a favorite day of mine.

It’s funny because just a few months ago, I would gently tease Scully for going off to church and then I’d pace the floor while I waited for her to get home. Now, we go in together. While she goes to church, I meet with Charlie for brunch and we … talk.

I’ve learned a lot about things that even Charlie is still learning. I’ve learned names. I’ve learned the location of someone who might be able to help us. It’s nice to actually have friends again, I have to say. I’ve learned to appreciate the drive back to the house.

It hasn’t been easy this month. The new treatment is easier overall on Scully, but she’s more run down as it’s a daily thing instead of once a week. But she’s out walking again and last night … well, it was nice. She’s doing so much better, which eases me. The question we can’t answer yet is if it’s working, but I’ll take what I can get. We both will. I wish I could go into more detail – it kills me that I can’t. But what’s going on … the last thing I want is people who shouldn’t see this seeing it. Give me time. I promise I can divulge more.

But in better news, the house is painted. An egg shell cream on the outside that actually … looks very nice, if I do say so myself.

Hi guys!

I want to say thank you to those of you who have stuck through this hiatus. As of this morning, my novel has been submitted for consideration and despite being busy, I am able to be writing again. :) Scully and Mulder's lives have continued and yes, starting today you will be seeing the regular updates again.

I can't tell you how much I've missed being over here, but I did need the time off to complete what I was working on.

Thank you again!

~Vega

There was a storm last night. It didn't last long, but it was powerful. The thunder scared the dog and she ended up in bed with us, her sweet head buried under the covers. There was something about it that just made both of us laugh so hard.

By the way, getting the dog was the best decision Dana and I have made in a long, long time. It was something we just needed to do. The other night I told her that she needed to make more decisions when she was puking her guts out after a chemo treatment.

She's stopped chemo for the time being and we are trying a new treatment. I don't know if it's working or not. I do know she's started back at work a few days a week. Her hair has thinned out but she looks ravishing in a blue headscarf. I am days away from a different answer of my own...

But in news that doesn't have anything to do with cancer treatments, the house is getting painted. Our bedroom is a fresh shade of blue. The living room is still the same. And this week, I am going to actually start painting the outside. Get your giggles in now - the idea of me painting a house isn't as far fetched as it sounds. ;-)

How are all of you?

There are moments when I stare at myself in the mirror for so long that the shapes of my face seem to jump off of my body and float before me. The triangle of my nose. The ovals of my eyes. They float and I stare and stare and stare until I'm lost in something that is not me but is me and is a part of me.

Then, there are moments like last night, when I'm curled up on the couch with my head against Mulder's chest and the dog is on the floor in front of us and everything, in an instant, fits together perfectly - the shapes and the colors and the pain and the joy - it all comes together and the larger vision isn't important because it's the smaller one that matters.

( From the Desk of Dr. Dana Scully )

Hi guys!

Thank you so much for your continued reading of this journal. Writing Scully and Mulder as they go through life right now, battling her cancer and now with the introduction of the dog into the family is so much fun. I wish I could post 300 times a day, really. Silly things like work and life get in the way.

And, sadly, this is a note to let you know that there will be fewer posts in the month of May. This has nothing to do with you guys and everything to do with me. On May 30th, I am submitting the draft of my unpublished novel crossingthegate in to a contest and I need to spend the next 30 days polishing. I contemplated taking the whole month off, but too much is going on with Mulder and Scully to do that to them or to you guys.

So, it will be one or two posts a week - probably when I'm stuck on a particular passage in the novel. ;-) Please keep reading. Your involvement with this process has been the most fun of it all.

Wish me luck, and I'll see you on the other side!

~vegawriters~

Hi!

Oh, I apologize for being so absent the last couple of weeks. The chemo has finally caught up to me and I wish I was strong and could fight through it but the fact of the matter is that my doctors don't even want to let me go home at the end of my treatments. What they are doing is already very experimental and is a much higher dose than I probably should be receiving. When I'm not in bed with the covers up over my head, I'm in the bathroom. I am on sick leave, again, from work. It hurts so much to be away from my patients, but I do them no good barely limping in to work and not being able to get anything accomplished. So I've been at home, helping Mulder go through old files and stories and, Sunday, we had a new addition to the family.

( From the Desk of Dr. Dana Scully )

It's been a long, long one. First there was the night in the hospital when Scully started bleeding. Her body decided it was finally time to expel any of the tissue left over from when ...

And then of course was her treatment yesterday. She's resting now, but doing all right. Last week was much worse overall.

But, we have decided on a dog. She's a two-year-old Irish Setter named Maggie. She was a service dog for a woman who had seizures and needed help with some small things around the house. The woman passed away recently. Maggie comes to us tomorrow.

There's more to talk about, but I'm exhausted. So I'll touch base later. I'd like to say thank you to everyone who has given us advice about what dog to get. It's been a big help.

Apologies for a lack of comments about the dog conversation. We've had a stressful couple of days involving severe nosebleeds, acute exhaustion, and well, heartbreak. We spent most of night before last and yesterday at the hospital. Don't worry, she's fine now. Well, as fine as she can be. At least Rea believes that she does better at home and not in a hospital bed because "smarter" people would keep her in the hospital until her next treatment. But she's up this morning, curled up on the couch. We bought Caprica yesterday - watching it is today's project.

As for the dog conversation, we've narrowed it to two breeds. Just for shits and giggles we looked into Portuguese Water Dogs but decided that it was a more viable option than we realized. On the other hand is the Irish Setter. We have the land to let the dog run, so that isn't an issue. Thoughts?

I hurt today. Every bone, every joint, every hair follicle, every damned pore hurts. I don't know if it's the chemo or how much time I spent throwing up yesterday. And, of course, I can't keep the anti-nausea meds down.

But last night, right before I passed out, I told Mulder I want a dog.

Today, when I've been conscious, we've decided that we're going to look at dogs who were trained to be therapy or service dogs but who didn't actually get hired to do so. It's not just not wanting to train a puppy, but having a dog who is already trained for certain things will be helpful if my health goes downhill. And, I want a companion for Mulder ... for the same reasons. When we were on the run, we obviously couldn't have anything that could attract attention. Now? We're getting a dog.

And I'm going back to bed.

Actually, that one is on my list of "things that you never want to hear your partner's doctor say." It's joined by a lot of other things, many of them I've already heard.

Today, per Rea's instructions, I went into the exam room with Dana before her treatment. It's been a long week. Overall, I think she's been feeling better but she's been sick to her stomach more. It's a natural cause of the treatment. Her body is rejecting what is being poured in to it and she can't eat because she is sick and she gets sicker because she can't eat. But between the nosebleeds and the nausea, I find myself amazed at her inner strength yet again. What she's survived and she's been at work every morning and comes home every night and this week ... well. The other night was nice.

But I digress. Rea. She waltzed in, as she often does, shook her head at us, and just laughed.

"Why is it that I'm coming to realize the two of you are special enough to warrant special attention from people who I really shouldn't know about?"

Scully all but bolted from the room. I froze. Simply froze. Rea chuckled again.

"Dr. Dennison has a new best friend and she's asking a lot of questions, Dana."

( I know, I know, I am worried too. )

Rea? May be the best doctor ever.

More later.

The Women of Auschwitz
were not treated so well as I.
I am haunted by their shorn heads,
their bodies more naked for this
as they stumble against each other
in those last black-and-white
moments of live footage.

Before she cuts the brain
Teresa twines the red ribbon
bordered with gold into my hair.
The scissors stutter against the thick
black hank of it, though, for its part,
the hair is mute.
From: The Women of Auschwitz by Tess Gallager

My hair is falling out. It was falling out before, with the treatments last time, and with three solid weeks of poison in my system, my body is picking up right where it left off. Strand by strand it falls, crashing to the floor, tangled in my hairbrush. Knots on my pillow. Fist fulls that come out in Mulder's fingers when he strokes his hand over my hair when he leans in to kiss me good night.

( From the Desk of Dr. Dana Scully )

SpookyApollo: What are you wearing?
Starbuck2012: A dirty lab coat. Scrubs.
SpookyApollo:That just turned me on a little bit.
Starbuck2012: *chuckles* You are a sick, sick man, Mulder.
SpookyApollo: It's the real reason you fell in love with me.

( More continuing adventures ... )

I'm getting slow.

Treating it with chemo and radiation, of course it doesn't work. It's cancer but it's not. It's why this woman Skinner found has had success.

She's treating it as a virus.

It's never gone away. The faces have changed, but the plan has never gone away. (That much I knew.)

She's treating it as a virus. It's cancer, but it's more. It's why she wants Scully to finish out the treatments she's been doing before we start the new round.

Maybe ...