At the Hospital Again

June 20, 2013
I’m sure it was probably only a few hours, but to me, it was enough to fill a lifetime. It was a summer filled with hospitals, doctors and fear. That day was most like the others, except for the feeling of impending doom. It’s funny how one’s whole world can come to a complete standstill because of one simple word. “Cancer”, they said, the MRI showed the culprit in the left frontal lobe of Mrs. Cynthia K’s brain, my mother’s brain. It was a rare form, not often seen and something that never “just goes away”. So there I was, with my family, sardines in a white waiting room.

I was covered in sweat despite the fact that St. John’s was always frigid cold. I hadn’t been able to eat since the day before and yet my stomach threatened to spill it’s nonexistent contents. The fact I was able to remain in the puritanical chair was all due to the warmth and comfort of the hand of my best friend’s around my own shaking palm. I had told him he needn’t come, seeing as we were there long before even the roosters cared to stir. He hadn’t listened though, he never did.

We were there so Mom could have that tumor removed, it was the best course of action. Although I knew this, I still was unable to swallow, it was as though I had a bowling ball lodged in my throat. Seconds to minutes, minutes to hours, time was irrelevant. A headache had been growing steadily as the clock ticked away. My muscles bunch and I wanted nothing more than to bolt. I wanted nothing more than to run from the hospital, scurry down the stairs and never look back. The place had such an awful sterile smell as though they were trying to cover the stench of death; it burned my nose.

Air seemed to despise me as it refused to fill my lungs and my heart began to race as I wished I’d been able to. My mind began to shut down and I felt as if I was trapped beneath a wet blanket, suffocating me. There was nothing I could do. My eyes blurred before me as the white walls seemed to laugh at my discomfort. It felt like an eternity until the nurse in pink scrubs, told us the doctor wanted to see us. Numbly, I stood with the others, unable to speak and walked through the double doors that mocked anyone who entered.

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