Life is Never Fair

Amanda paced around the small room on jittery, restless legs. After spending over two hours within the pale white walls she had started growing weary and extremely anxious. Suddenly the creaking sound of a door opening on the far end cut through the silence and Amanda spun around to face the man, clad in a stark white coat, who had entered the room.

The moment Amanda saw the look on the man's face she knew that the news he was bearing was not good. Steeling herself, while trying to ignore her rapidly beating heart and the chill spreading down her spine, she gave the man an expectant look, silently prompting him to speak.

"I am very sorry Miss Green," the doctor began while clutching the clipboard in his hand. "It was as we had suspected." He paused again and gave her an apologetic look. "Your son has a large tumour in his brain."

The moment Amanda heard those worlds her whole world came crumbling down. She felt her legs go weak and immediately backed up towards one of the pale green plastic chairs and collapsed into it. She brought up her shaking hands and slowly covered her face. She sat, paralyzed in one position and tried to stabilize her breathing. Once she has managed to sufficiently compose herself she slid her hands away from her face and looked up at the doctor.

"Is there anything we can do?" she asked, hanging onto that fine thread of hope, trying hard to hold on to the idea that her little boy could still be saved. But the small, dejected of the doctor's head snapped that thread and Amanda felt herself tumble into a deep pit of despair. She managed to clutch onto the edge of that crevice, though, as she knew that at that moment she could not afford to focus on her own pain while her little Sam, her little boy who she had adopted no more than a year ago but who she had formed an almost unbreakable bond with, needed, more than anything, her support, and above all needed her to be strong for him.

That was when she realized that the doctor was still talking. While she was immersed in her internal dilemma she had only picked up a few words of his monologue 'large tumour', far into the second stage', intracranial swelling', 'highly malignant', and the one which struck her the most 'inoperable'.

"How much time does he have?" she managed to ask in a soft, hollow voice.

"Judging by the size and spread of the cancer, I would give three months, or four if he is lucky." The doctor replied in an almost clinically emotional voice.

Closing her eyes, Amanda let out a sharp breath and battled the tears that were trying to force their way out. Reminding herself to stay strong she pushed down her first instinct to lash out at the doctor, who could not he held liable for her sons fate, and stood up on trembling legs.

"Can I see my son now?" She asked in a clipped voice and cringed internally when she recognized the hostility in her voice.

"But of course." The doctor said. "But before that I would like to inform you that, if you wish, you may take your son home after we do a final check-up. He may be more comfortable in the environment of his own home rather than a hospital."

"Thank you. I think he would appreciate that." Amanda said, while trying to hold a smile on her face even though she had realized that the doctor's words were the final nails in the coffin.

Once the doctor directed her to her sons room she nodded him a thanks and hurried through the pale corridors until she found herself standing in front of a door with the numbers 117 embossed on it. Her hand hovered above the door knob and her mind flashed back to the day she had first brought Sam home from the orphanage and how she was pleasantly surprised when Sam so easily accepted her as his mother and how easily he slotted himself into her life and eventually became the most important thing in her life.

Keeping that thought in mind she once again reminded herself to be strong before grasping the knob and twisting it to open the door. But when saw her small adopted son lying on the small single bed, his skin almost as pale as the sheets he was lying on, her resolve nearly crumbled and she had to fight of a fresh wave of tears that threatened to tumble out. When the boy turned to her though she noticed fear lurking behind his clear blue eyes and she realized that the time to worry about her own fears would come later but at the present moment her only priority was her son and as difficult as it would be she swore to herself that she would push aside her pain and do whatever it took to keep her son happy and comfortable for the little time he had left.