dear ana ❥ h.s.

the devil comes in the form of a sickness

It had been over a month since we went to Paris, and it still left a warm feeling in my stomach. It gave me a happy, beautiful feeling. Knowing that our lock was on the bridge, and that it would remind everyone of our love.

I sat idly in the doctors office, lightly swinging my feet back and forth. It was quiet here.

I'd been seated here a good while, quietly observing the diagrams on the walls. All of them medicine related - all of them too smart for my brain.

My doctor finally returns to the room, holding a clipboard in his hand and a binder in the other; my charts I'm assuming. They had run multiple tests on me - X-rays, CTs, anything to explain what was going on - and needed an entire binder to find out what is going on.

"Okay Ana, we were able to narrow down the possibilities. We found a massive tumor located on your left lung, which is the reason you're finding it hard to breathe." he explains, showing me the X-Ray, even though I literally had no clue how to read it. "It's suffocating your lung, and because of that, it would need to be removed. That's the main problem - it would be a high risk surgery - nearly impossible."

I look at him with Bambi eyes, legs halting from swinging. So basically, I die because of the tumor either way.

"We believe it may be cancerous, too. Which would mean you'd need radiation and chemo before we could even operate. We could set you up with an oxygen tank, as you've probably seen people with poor lungs lugging around, and that would make it easier for you."

"So I either die from no operation, getting the operation, or cancer?"

"The plan was to start you on radiation to shrink the tumor, Ana. That would help lessen the danger of you dying." He sighs, looking at me.

"I heard what you said." I mumble. "But you said I would also need chemo."

"If it turns out to be cancerous, and we're running tests for that." he states, setting his clipboard down.

"But you think it is cancer?" I question, looking at him. "And don't lie to me."

"Yes, I think it is cancer."

I absorbed what he was telling me, looking in my lap. My hands were shaking, and my foot had been tapping the air quickly.

"Lung cancer? From the mass, right?" I finally muster up, looking towards Dr. Arnold. "You think I have lung cancer."

"You would be correct." he answers softly. "Likely stage three. That makes chance of survival low, but if you go ahead with chemo and radiation, we can shrink the rumor and remove it." he explains. "We're not sure if it's a sure thing yet, but I'm taking an educated guess. And I would recommend going ahead with it."

I nod in understanding, closing my eyes. I didn't know what to feel - how to feel - because I knew it was going to crush Harry. And I couldn't do that to him.

"I'll go ahead with it."