Sex Diaries
Part Sixteen - Ready to Go
By Miesque
miesque1973@msn.com

RATING: PG-13 (mild language)
SETTING: Season Seven (aka "Season of the Pod People") into Season Eight. Luka has long since broken up with Droopy
McHangdog (a.k.a., Abby Lockhart) and is Alone Again (naturally...)
CATEGORY: Luka Kovac/cast. Romantic/comedy/drama, vague spoof of 'Bridget Jones's Diary'...may be rather humorous, may be angsty, may end with a nuclear bomb wiping out all of Chicago...who knows?
ARCHIVE: If you must, but please inform author. :)
SPOILERS: For Season Seven and Wishful Thinking for Season Eight
PREVIOUS INSTALLMENTS: Starter Pistols and Sex Diaries; Fishin' for the Runnin'; Heat Stroke; Grocery Store Cowboy;
Cheesecake and Whine; Times Of Your Life; I Want A Cave Man, I Want A Brave Man!; A Bigger Mousetrap; Bless Me,
Father; For I Am About to Sin; Out On A Ledge; Have An Egg Instead; Charity; The Devil Cuts Loose; Toads and Falsehoods
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Ellen Hursh for editing and several 2AM brain-storming sessions. :)



Andrej waited as long as he could to wake Luka up. He had
been determined to ignore the pain for as long as possible,
but by six in the morning it was simply unbearable and he
staggered into the living room, wincing and gasping for
breath. It took almost all his strength to even *speak*.

"Luka?"

He sat up, startled, jerked out of a nightmare. That same
nightmare he always had-of those final days in the internment
camp in Bosnia. Whenever he woke from that dream, he had
that taste of gunmetal in his mouth, and smelled something
burning. Felt that searing pain in his leg. He shook his head
to clear it, then looked up at Andrej. He immediately noticed
the strange expression on Andrej's face.

"Pain...getting worse," Andrej said between gasps. "Need to
go to...to...hospital. Can barely...breath."

Luka was on his feet in seconds. He forced Andrej to sit
down, and the old man was relieved to be able to rest and
catch his breath for a few moments. Meanwhile, Luka
checked his vitals. Andrej's blood pressure was horrifying-
two thirty over one-seventy, and his heart rate was equally
chilling at one-twenty. Breathing very labored, literally
gasping. He watched his father for a moment, fear slowly
gripping him like a vice, suddenly feeling utterly helpless. No,
not now. Not yet. Please God...not now. Please, not now.

"I'll call 911," he said quickly. He found the phone on the
coffee table, under a newspaper, and made the call, then
phoned County General. "Yeah, Randi? This is Dr. Kovac. I
need a trauma room set up immediately. I'm bringing my
father in via ambulance."

"What's wrong?" Randi asked.

"Acute pain from adenocarcinoma of the pancreas, more or
less...end stage," Luka said quickly. "Who's in charge right
now?"

"Carter."

"Tell him to have plenty of morphine on hand," Luka
directed. "And page Romano."



20 August 2001

Bloody awful day. Just bloody awful.

Dr. Malucci hitting on me this morning, which was quite
annoying and nerve-wracking. Then I ran into Dr. Carter and
threatened to tear off his balls and make him eat them if he
ever said another nasty thing about Luka again. He looked
quite peeved and slunk away, tail between his legs. Naff git.
Then at nine, just as I'm starting to wake up and feel vaguely
competent, I hear from Randi that Luka is bringing Andrej in.
Oh, bloody hell.

9:45AM Andrej in trauma two with Luka, who looks positively
stricken. The news is not good. Carter has ordered another
CT scan. We are still waiting for results. Dr. Romano is
down here now, examining Andrej again. Poor man has been
pumped full of morphine and barely knows where he is. But I
went in to see him anyway, and see Luka sitting beside his
bed, hands folded as if in prayer. I hang back, afraid to
interrupt him. But he sees me and smiles a little.

"He's dying," he tells me quietly. "I'm not sure how long it will
take. But...I know he's dying. He may last another few
months. He may die tonight. But the prognosis is never good
for this kind of cancer. If only I had noticed...if only I had
stayed in Croatia after Christmas..."

I can't say anything, as there is a huge lump in my throat.
Can barely see the page as I write.

10:15 AM Dr. Romano in now with the chart and shoos me
out. I couldn't help but stand outside the door and listen. Dr.
Romano says something like 'tumor has grown at an alarming
rate... almost forty percent larger than it was when it was
checked last October in Croatia' and 'perhaps a matter of
days...maybe weeks'. I can see Luka through the window and
he looks...haunted. So many people he loves have died. But
I am surprised to see Dr. Romano put his hand on Luka's
shoulder and offer sympathy. Luka looks at the floor for a
long time after Romano leaves, and I finally muster up
courage to go in.

"Hey," he manages to smile a little.

"I'm so sorry, Luka. Is there anything I can do?"

"No. No one can do anything. It's just a matter of time now.
He thought he had four to six months. But the cancer has
grown very rapidly and...and...he's fading. Just yesterday he
seemed okay...but now that I think about it he *didn't* look
all that good. And what was I doing yesterday?"

Feel crushed then. He was with me yesterday. At my
apartment. Necking with me on my couch. Luka sees my
expression and comes to my side. "I'm sorry," he
says. "That was uncalled for. None of this is your fault,
Alexandra. It's my fault. Mine entirely."

"How can it be your fault?" I ask him. "You had no idea he
had cancer."

"Right. And I'm a doctor, aren't I? I've had years of
experience...after a while, you develop a sixth sense about it.
You can tell if someone is...is really sick. But when it came to
my own father, I didn't even *look*. It was as if I had shut
all my instincts down..."

"Luka, it's not your fault. It's no one's fault."

His arms were crossed, and he was staring at the floor. Then
he looked at his father. "He got so old. I still can't figure out
when that happened."

"At least it happened. At least he's enjoyed a happy life..."

"Until now," Luka said. His mouth is a grim line, and his eyes
seem to have sunken into his head. I finally reach up and
touch his shoulder. He shrugs me away, but very
gently. "Thank you, Alexandra. I know you're trying to help,
but...ah...I need to be alone, okay? I..."

"I understand." I don't understand. But he has every right to
ask to be alone. It's his father. But I wish I could help him
somehow. But when I leave the exam room, Dr. Weaver is
standing there, waiting for me.

"Dr. Morgan, what's going on?"

"Dr. Kovac's father was just brought in. He's got
adenocarcinoma of the pancreas...he's in terrible shape, Dr.
Weaver. Dr. Romano was just down here to see him..."

"Dr. Romano?" Kerry looked absolutely flabbergasted. "Dr.
Romano was down here? To see Luka's father?"

"Yes. Dr. Kovac had him paged and he was here before the
ambulance arrived."

She looks at me as though I had just told her she'd just won
sixty million dollars from Ed McMahon. "Are you sure it was
Dr. Romano?"

"Do you know any other short, bald Chiefs of Staff?" I mutter.
Dr. Weaver shrugged her lab coat on and went into the exam
room. I stood and watched as she went to Luka and put her
hand on his arm (he is sitting down by the bed). It's good
that he has friends like her and Jing-Mei. Which reminds me.
Must find Jing-Mei and tell her what's going on.



Luka was exhausted. His head was pounding now, and fear
still gripped him around his chest like cold metal claws. He
wasn't ready to lose his father. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Andrej was his final tangible link to Croatia, to his life before
the war. When his father died, he'd be alone-truly, utterly
alone. What made him feel worse about it, though, was how
selfishly he was behaving. His father was ready to die,
wanted to see his wife, son and grandchildren again, and
Luka was stubbornly refusing to let him go, just so he
wouldn't be alone.

He barely had the strength now to even *think* about making
necessary arrangements. But he knew he had to. Romano
had told him that he could only be 'cautiously optimistic' that
Andrej would live more than a few weeks. "I'm sorry, Luka.
But the tumor was already big when we did the CT a couple
of days ago. It's only gotten larger-grown about forty
percent larger now, to a mass of about seven centimeters,
and it's just untreatable. There's really not a lot that can be
done. Just pain management...make him as comfortable as
possible..."

There had been an uneasy silence between Luka and
Romano. The little chief of staff had been at a loss for
words. He had seen plenty of family members grief-stricken
when informed of the hopeless condition of beloved relatives.
But he wasn't quite prepared for the haunted look in Kovac's
eyes. The man looked drained.

"Why don't you go somewhere and lie down for a while?
Then take the rest of the day off and sit with your father. I'll
have someone come get you if he wakes up before then. Go
on...get outta here. I can't stand looking at somebody that
looks as bad as you."

Luka had finally made his way into exam three, too worn out
to sit up in that uncomfortable chair beside his father. He
crawled wearily onto the bed, tucked the pillow under his
head, and was asleep in moments. He didn't dream, for
once. Instead, it was just a kind of blackness, like being
under anesthesia. It was a relief to not dream. It was as if
everything had just been shut off for a while, and it allowed
Luka to get a little rest.

He was going to need all he could get.

It was several hours later when Luka was awakened by Dave
Malucci, who had to shake him several times. "Hey...hey, Dr.
Kovac? Dr. Romano wants to see you ASAP."

"What's going on?" Luka asked, sitting up and swinging
unsteadily out of the bed.

"Your father wants to go home. Right now."

"He's awake?"

"Yeah. And he's pretty agitated. He's had enough of
hospitals and doctors poking him...he wants to go home..."
Dave didn't mention the fact that Andrej had thrown a used
bedpan at him a few minutes ago. Kerry had been pretty
patient up until then, whereupon she had sent Dave to wake
Luka up.

Luka was out the door before Dave could finish. But before
he could get to the exam room, Kerry blocked his
path. "Luka, I want you to promise me you'll listen to your
father's wishes. He wants to go home."

"Home? Back to Croatia?" Luka asked, dumbfounded. He
couldn't allow *that*. He could feel the energy coming back
into his system, the adrenalin pumping through him. He was
ready for action, ready for battle.

"No. Back to your apartment. He doesn't want to stay here."

That kind of knocked the wind out of Luka, and for a moment
he had to brace himself against the wall, reeling from the
implications of that idea. "Kerry, I don't...I don't know what to
do," he admitted. "If he goes back to my apartment, how can
I take care of him? I don't have the resources at all..."

"Dr. Romano wants to talk to you before you go in there. He's
waiting in the lounge."

Luka groaned. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to
Romano. But he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders,
and headed toward the lounge, passing Alexandra in the hall.
He paused, then looked back at her. She was going over a
chart, her head bent slightly, giving him a view of the graceful
curve of her neck and jawline. He swallowed.

"Alexandra?"

She looked up at him, blue eyes full of concern. "You just
woke up?"

"Yeah. I was out for quite a while, apparently. I have to go
see Dr. Romano about my father. Maybe...maybe afterwards
you and I can...can talk?"

"Sure," she smiled encouragingly.

He nodded and backed away from her by a step or two. "I'll
see you later, then?"

"Yes, of course." She stood still for a moment, looking up at
him, then moved forward again. "Luka, if there anything I can
do...anything at all...please call me, okay? Even at three in
the morning and you just need someone to talk to. I can
consume tremendous amounts of coffee and have two very
good ears."

He studied her for a moment. He remembered being told,
once, in practically another life, that he didn't need to talk.
Now, here was a woman inviting him to talk as much or as
little as he liked. He touched her arm briefly, then turned and
walked down the hall to the lounge.

Romano was pouring himself a cup of coffee, and when Kovac
came in, he poured a second cup and handed it to the tall
Croatian. Luka made a surprised noise, but said nothing and
sat down.

"Your father wants to go home...that is, back to your
apartment. He doesn't want to die in a hospital."

"I know," Luka said.

"He's a very stubborn old man," Romano said, trying to sound
sarcastic. "He won't listen to reason, but then again, being
reasonable is hardly a Kovac family trait, is it?"

"No. It never has been. I come from a long line of very
unreasonable people. And I'm guessing that you don't want
him to leave the hospital?"

"I'd rather he didn't, but I'll release him if you think you're
able to handle the situation. He'll need twenty-four hour pain
management. I doubt he'll ever get out of the bed, and he's
pretty weak...except for bed-pan throwing abilities, which are
remarkable...but his mind is pretty sharp. He won't take any
crap from anyone. Not even me."

Luka took a gulp of his coffee, letting the searing liquid burn
down his throat. "He threw a bedpan at you?"

"No. At Malatucci."

"Malucci."

"Whatever. So you think you want to take this on?"

"I think I'll have to...he's my father." Luka paused for a
moment, staring at the lettering on his coffee cup. "He took
care of me when I was helpless. It's my duty to do that same
for him now. He ought to be as comfortable as possible,"
Luka conceded.

"All right. You'll have to take time off. And that means your
pay gets docked. Got it?"

"Yes. I've 'got it'."

Romano stood up and left. Outside the door, however, he
shook his head. Like he'd dock Kovac's pay in a situation like
this. The man's father was dying. Hell, he was thinking
seriously of making sure Luka got a double bonus come
Christmas time. Not that he'd let Kovac know about it. He'd
just call it a computer error and leave it at that. Mistakes
happen, and if they result in extra cash, all the better
for 'mistakes'. The computer giveth, and the computer taketh
away.

Luka went back to Andrej's room, pausing outside the door
for a moment, looking at the suddenly pale, rail-thin man lying
there, wincing. At least they had not intubated him-that had
not become necessary. He was breathing on his own. For
now.

Going inside, Luka made sure to be as quiet as possible. He
read over Andrej's chart, noting the CT results had come in.
The tumor mass had grown at an alarming rate, and
Romano's side note was simple and to the point: 'Inoperable,
totally untreatable, only option now is to wait.' At least the
little surgeon didn't beat around the bush.

"Luka?" Andrej whispered. "Where have you been?"

"Just getting coffee, Tata," Luka answered, moving to his
father's side.

"You haven't called me 'Tata' in years," Andrej grinned. "Not
since you were a very little boy."

"Things change," Luka said quietly.

"Yes. That's very true. Everything changes, even when we
don't want them to."

"Tata...why didn't you do chemotherapy when you found out?
Why didn't you..."

"Because it was already hopeless, son. And I'm ready to go.
I'm not afraid to go, Luka. I'm ready to cross the river and
walk into the woods. It's my time."

Luka winced slightly. Bishop Stewart had told him about his
own walk in the woods-a walk that had resulted in him finding
his way. It had taken Luka such a long time to find his way-in
fact, he still felt a little lost sometimes. But he was getting
better. He was healing. But he wasn't ready to say goodbye
to his father yet.

"It's not fair," Luka said at last.

"No. It isn't. But it's life. Dying is a part of living. And I'm
not afraid of it."

Luka looked at his father, seeing again how much he
resembled Andrej. The same cheekbones, the same mouth,
the same eyes. Their personalities and temperaments
couldn't have been more different, though.

"I love you, Tata."

"I know, Luka. I love you...I have always loved you."

Luka wiped his eyes, struggling to maintain his composure.

"You were always such a mystery to me. I never could quite
figure you out. Vedran...Vedran I knew. I could read him so
well. But you..." Andrej laughed. "You never made much
sense. I'll bet you thought Vedran was my favorite, didn't
you?"

"It wouldn't have surprised me. Vedran was always
completely open with everyone. Sometimes a little *too*
open."

Andrej laughed, gasping a little. "Yes. But you...you were the
one we worried about the most. Natalija called you our Star
Child...a gift from God. Vedran was so easy to control, to
discipline. We never knew what to do with you. You were
my favorite, really. Vedran was Natalija's favorite. I hope
neither of you realized that."

"No, I never had a clue," Luka said honestly. He and Vedran
had never considered themselves the favorite of either
parent, though Luka had long suspected that he was a source
of constant frustration to both parents. Natalija had been
particularly upset when Luka had refused to go into the
priesthood.

"Luka, I'm ready to go," Andrej said softly. "I'm ready."



21 August 2001

9AM Andrej going back to Luka's apartment today. I'm not
sure if I should go over and help-Jing-Mei is taking some food
for Luka, who was standing in the ambulance bay, looking v.
haggard. This is going to be so hard on him. Made mental
note to call Dad today and tell him I love him. Stupid of me to
let that kind of thing go by and not think about him much.
Mum I think about more, because...well, she's my Mum. It's
different.

Andrej looking v. pale and weak on gurney, being rolled out to
the ambulance for transport back home. He looked at me and
smiled, and asked *me* how *I* felt.

"I'm just fine, Andrej. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Yes. We'll talk about that later, though. Come by tonight,
Alexandra. I'd like to see you again."

Such a sweet man. Bloody awful for him to be suffering like
this. Luka looked at me for a moment, and he looked as
exhausted as he did yesterday morning. Heard Romano is
docking his pay for days missed, the little bastard. Thinking
of putting sugar in his petrol tank.

11:30AM Heard Chuny telling Haleh that the old charge nurse
is coming for a visit in a few weeks, bringing her twin
daughters and-I assume-husband (Doug?) with her. I think
this is the same nurse Luka pursued a while ago. Am v.
curious to see her. I see strange look of panic on Carter's
face when he hears this news.

1:30PM Home at last, as only worked half-day today,
covering shift for another resident. Jing-Mei called as soon as
I got through door (lost bloody keys again, finally found them
at bottom of grocery bag), telling me that I should go over to
Luka's and she'd meet me there. She is taking roast turkey
and dressing, I am to bring cold drinks and various snack
items. I believe she may have heard I am not a good cook.
My reputation, therefore, has preceded me. I asked her
about this, and she hemmed and hawed for a bit, then finally
blurted out, "Well, you are English." I hung up on her.

2:15PM Watching 'Wild America' on PBS. Had no idea
wolverines looked like that. Always pictured them as looking
more...wolflike. Learned a great deal about wolverines
today. Perhaps more than I wanted to know. For instance,
they are v. solitary creatures, eat carrion, have adamantium
claws, and can safely land a 747 at Heathrow.

2:18PM Just kidding.

3:45PM Woke up on couch, feeling v. sad and blue, phone
ringing. Was hoping it was Luka. Alice instead.

"What's happening?"

"Luka's father is dying," I inform her. Good way to get things
started.

"Oh. That's sad. What does he have?"

"Pancreatic cancer. He's fading very fast."

Long silence. "You're in love with Luka, aren't you?"

"I'm very much in danger of being so, yes."

She sighs. "Be careful, Alexandra. It's not a game for the
weak-hearted."

Don't I know it.

6PM Time to go to Luka's. Put on simple black sweatsuit and
tie hair back in knot. Not going for 'pretty' tonight. Would be
tasteless and inappropriate. Going to be helpful, that's all,
and to comfort an old man in his last hours. It's the least I
can do.

To be continued...