Almost a Memory

Prologue

I looked down at the white tiled floor, my thoughts wandering in a million different directions. The test results were due to come back any moment now, and the anxiety in the room was palpable. My mom went from one position to another, occasionally petting my hair absentmindedly, and tensing every time a doctor or nurse passed the door of my room.

Finally, a middle-aged man walked up to my door, papers and a folder in hand. My mother tensed up and grabbed my hand, which I squeezed to offer some reassurance. Everything is going to be alright, I wanted to say. You and I both know that I’m fine. But the words caught in my throat, and all I could do was continue to squeeze her hand as the doorknob slowly began to turn.

“Hello Diana, Mrs. Richards,” the middle-aged man began, shaking each of our hands. “I’m Dr. Duran, and these are Nurse Winters and Nurse Donaldson behind me.”

I looked up at the mention of the two nurses, noticing that the both of them had appeared behind the doctor. Little alarm bells started going off inside my head. Whenever a doctor brought nurses along, you knew that there would be nothing but bad news. My mom, who was sitting beside me at this point, seemed oblivious to the thoughts that were running wild inside my mind. She shook hands with the doctor and smiled at the two nurses with a simple “Nice to meet you.”

“Mrs. Richards,” Dr. Duran began, “as you’ve probably assumed, we have the results of Diana’s tests.” Opening the folder, he seemed to meticulously study its contents before finally locking eyes with my mother. “I’m afraid… we have some bad news for you,” he said, a crease appearing in his forehead. “As you know, Diana’s white blood cell count was abnormally high, so we decided that the best course of action would be to run some more tests. Well… one of the tests came back positive. We think,” he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, “we think that your daughter has cancer.”

I was in shock. Even in my wildest nightmares, this thought had never crossed my mind. I could tell that my mom felt the same way as I watched the color slowly drain from her face, and the tears begin to well in her eyes. Oh god. I thought. Oh god no. This can’t be happening. Not to me.

But all it took was one look at the sobs beginning to wrack my mom’s body for me to realize that this was all too real.