Frozen Mud

Chapter 3 - Trap

So now they knew. I didn't have to explain it to anyone again. Finally I could relax, knowing that I wouldn't have to relive it again. At least, not in the same way. Over the next few days, I took some minor pills, I can't remember their exact name, but I had to take one every four hours I was awake. So I got to relive it all again, threw glances and stares. Why was he taking pills ? Why was he away from class again ? What's wrong with him ? Yeah, uni was a tough time. 

I was studying economics, but had some great friends in law, having spent my first six months of uni studying there. We shared a building, the economic students, the lax students and the management ones. So we got to meet up all the time. I hadn't told them what was going on yet. In all fairness, I kind of didn't want to. Despite the doctors advice I hadn't stopped smoking, just cut down, so I'd go outside with them and have a fag break, but in my own way.

I'd have to sit down, otherwise I would cough to buggery. The pills helped with the pain, but that was about it. They knew I'd been to hospital, and that I had had an appointment, but I didnt talk about it much. They respected my privacy, and in turn, I didn't plague them with details. Although details was something I'd been doing my research on.

I had figured out that if it was lung cancer, it would be serious treatment, potentially life threatening. Nevertheless, I had hope. I had an appointment a week after seeing doctor Anderson, to go to the hospital to cut out bits of my lung and examine it, to further the diagnosis. That meant that they weren't sure, and needed something to examine, to prove or disprove. Something to keep me going for I guess. My parents were notified, so they could drive Hwamin and me down there, and be there themselves, to make sure I was ok. 

So the day came, a day of reckoning I guess, my last examination before the serious stuff started. 

"Hello there, my name's Mr Chapman and I have an appointment with Doctor Underson." Everybody in this bloody hospital had similar names, it was hard to keep track. The receptionist turned around, a plump woman, mid forties, with short blond hair, and badly done makeup, as if she was in a hurry when she did it.

"Go threw the corridor on your left, take the first right. He'll be with you soon." She droned, not taking her eyes off her computer screen.

So, with my paperwork, Hwamin by my side, and my parents following suit, I marched on down the corridor, and got the pleasure of seating myself in a waiting room. It was cramped. There was one couple with a coughing baby, hushing the little one, and trying to keep smiling at him, despite their evident stammered speech and, in the woman's case, her non waterproof makeup smudges. An elderly man sat in the corner, full suit and tie, reading a newspaper. An elderly couple, the only memory I have of them, is the lady calling her husband daddy when she kissed him. And then there was me, and my merry band. 

One by one, people got called, until after what seemed an eternity an old fellow walked into the room and pronounced my name, in a very quiet voice, but with surprising warmth. 

"Mr Chapman, I'm doctor Underson, and I cannot stress how pleased I am to meet you. I've heard a lot about you, Mr Chapman." Now I'm a walking talking exhibit, but hey, if he was gonna help save my life then I'd indulge him all he wanted.

He took me to a private room, my family and Hwamin could wait outside the room, in two seats to the side, and asked me to take my top off. Oh I knew what was going to happen. I'd been drained before, having liquid pulled out of my lung, for yes, they knew I had pleurisy, but not why. 

Pleurisy is when one has liquid in their plural region, thus compressing the lung. So i was going to be injected with local anaesthetic, and get drained some more right ? Wrong. Two more people stepped into the room, one lady, and the other a man. I didn't see the man much, but he was young, only a few years older than me. The woman, turned her attention to me, and started to explain what was going to happen.

"Mr Chapman, hi, I'm Denise, pleased to meet you. So today, we are going to drain you, and cut of tiny chunks of your lung to examine it, is that okay ?" I mean I wouldn't have showed up if I didn't want to know what was going on.

"Ok, yeah, that sounds great." I blurted, the excitement in me bubbling. I'm going to find out. Just this one tiny thing and I'm gonna find out. 

I felt the pressure, as the needle went in, doctor Underson slowly explained what he was doing, and that I should tell him if I felt any discomfort. The usual medical speech. Then he started twisting and turning it, i could feel the huge pressure as he was pushing me forward. Then everyone start s screaming. 

"What's the problem ?" I yelled, turning my head towards panicking. However they aéré all smiling, and laughing. 

"Nothing", said the the man, "it's just we have to catch the bits of your lung in a tray as they come out, but you have to turn back around"

Great. In my suffering they were having fun. I was wired up, like a slot machine. They screamed as they caught golden flicks of my body, as if it were golden chips, to be cashed out for money. The dismissal of my worries, so violently and sharply, for what ? So they could prolongue their high score ? They screamed and shouted and laughed and jumped and clapped, and everytime I tried to get a word in edgeways, I was shushed, for fear of stopping their fun.

I was only released when they hit their jackpot. They unplugged me, their fun ceased immediately. I was stitched up, and told to wait a few more days for the test results to come back. 

Tick tock. I remember little while awaiting the results. Tick tock. However I do remember the exact wording of the paper upon receiving it. Tick tock.