Stronger

Chapter 7

"We have to take him into surgery prep now." The doctor explained impatiently. I was once again reluctant to let go of his hand. She gave me another glare and I let go.

"I'll see you soon, okay Phil? I love you" I whispered, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

"I love you too, Dan" he answered, voice made raspy by the oxygen mask.

As he was being pushed away, even though (and probably because) I knew he was out of earshot, I whispered "please don't die."

*

I was told that the surgery could take several hours, and my physical body was literally starving, even though I didn't mentally want to eat. I grabbed a fork and started picking at the dish my mum had brought, some kind of casserole that tasted like fish.

I was just sitting there, minding my own business, until someone came in and kicked me out. "You can't just stay in here, the room is needed for other patients" the person insisted. To be completely fair, he said it in a very friendly and compassionate way, but it did not stop me from being pissed off.

*

I need to get out of here. Too many people. Too much illness.

But you have to stay for Phil

I'll be back

I jogged out the door of the hospital, barely able to breathe and not just from my lack of regular physical activity. Everything about my current situation was impossibly overwhelming. I didn't know that a human could even BE this overwhelmed and still survive

Maybe I wasn't human

I made my way quickly across the street to a public park. It was quite beautiful, enough to make me get out of my own head and notice it. I sat down on the swings and started pondering while looking at the landscape. My breathing was steady, lungs filling and deflating easily and quietly. I would give Phil my healthy lungs for his shitty ones any day.

The air was quite warm, with a gentle breeze blowing through and making the trees sway. The sun was a big, shining ball, and I couldn't help but think about how everyone called Phil a ray of sunshine.

This made me sad again.

Several minutes later, I saw someone sit down next to me on the swings out of the corner of my eye. Turning my head, I saw that it was a little girl. She was probably around 8 years old, wearing a floofy purple tutu and a bright yellow T-shirt.

I was about to get up and leave, but then she spoke. "Hi! My name's Lizzie. What's your name?" She chirped bouncily.

"Hello Lizzie, my name is Dan" I said, unable to keep myself from smiling just a bit. I adore children.

"How old are you?" She asked politely. She started kicking at the ground to get herself going on the swing, and I was tempted to get up and push her, but that would be strange.

"24" I answered her question.

"Wow, that's old" Lizzie giggled. "I'm 7 and three quarters."

"That's pretty old too" I replied with a chuckle. I glanced down at my phone and looked up the time, and then back up at her. "I have to go, there's someone waiting on me. It was good talking to you, Lizzie!" I called, waving as I walked away.

She took one hand off the swing chains to wave back, grinning brightly.

*

Once back at the hospital I managed to get someone to inform me of how much longer it would be. Just a few more minutes, they said.

I sat down nervously on one of the hard, plastic waiting room chairs. I put my hand on the edge and felt something sticky, and I almost screamed.

Note to self I thought as I stood back up, hospitals are disgusting.

Luckily, I always kept a tiny bottle of hand sanitizer in my pocket. I pulled it out and squirted some on my hands, rubbing them together quickly.

I pocketed the sanitizer and stood there awkwardly for a moment, until a doctor tapped me on the shoulder. (and almost scared the shit out of me because I wasn't paying attention)

"Are you Mr. Howell?" She asked.

"Yes? Is Phil okay? How did the surgery go?" I replied quickly, spinning quickly to face her and almost falling over.

She bit her lip and looked down. "It gets harder to bring bad news every time" she mumbled, before taking a deep breath and meeting my gaze again. "Phil is alive, that's what's important. But.........he had an allergic reaction to the anesthesia. We had to close him up before removing all of the tumor, and now it has a bigger chance of growing and spreading."

"I........I......." I started stuttering, completely unable to speak. This was too much news at once.

"But he's okay?" I managed out, after a few moments of shock.

"Yes. He's awake, and in a lot of pain, but he'll be fine!" She chirped, trying to be cheerful.

"Thank you......" I glanced down at the nametag that was pinned to her scrubs. "Thank you, Louise" I finished. It wasn't her fault that Phil was even more likely to die now.

(A/N: does this seem like a strange place to end the chapter? It would've been so long if I wouldn't have stopped it here XD

So yeah, what do you think of Louise as a doctor? What do you think of the Twenty-Øne Piløts reference? Let me know! I love you all!)