Our Broken Hearts | Lauren Cimorelli

Five

Lauren's POV:

Ring Ring

The bedside alarm goes off, indicating that my serious Chemo round starts now. I sigh and throw the sheets off the bed, I sit up and patiently wait for the doctor.

"Hello Lauren, you ready?" The doctor comes in with a big cheerful smile. I wonder how he stays this happy all the time when he treats cancer patients.

"I guess," I say, unsure.

"Don't worry about it, Okay?" He tells me and brings out a wheelchair. I climb into it, with his help and sit down. He begins to wheel it to the elevator and then to the second floor.

"Alright, we're here," He tells me as we stop outside a room. I nod and get up from the wheelchair, he places it to the side as I open the door.

It's a pretty big room, there's machines everywhere and needles with medication in them. There's a few chairs surrounding the room and pictures on the wall, to make it look more 'homey' I guess.

"Take a seat," The doctor tells me and I lead towards the grey chair up against the wall.

"Okay, so what I'm going to do is place this needle into your arm and find a vein. The Chemo will get transported to your veins, Alright?" He asks me as I look around at all of the equipment. I nod and he begins to take out a fresh needle from the cupboard.

"Get ready," He tells me, I sigh and close my eyes. My left hand holding onto the side of the chair as he pushes the needle into my right arm.

"Ouch," I say in pain.

"All done," He tells me and places a plaster over the bleeding spot.

"It will take about thirty minutes for it to kick in so I suggest you get some rest now. I'd like to take you up for a CT scan and an MRI now, that Okay?" He asks me and I nod.

"Great," He tells me and leads me outside to where we left the wheelchair. I get in and we make our way to the elevator, fifth floor.

—

"Well, Lauren Cimorelli," A voice shouts out and I turn my head into the direction.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him with a smile.

"I'm in the line for a CT scan, you?" He asks me and gestures towards the long line in front of him. He is also in a wheelchair with his doctor behind him.

"Same," I tell him. We join the line right behind him and our doctors begin to talk to each other, complaining about the long line.

"So, you never told me your name," I say to him and he smiles, a mischievous one.

"Jake. Jake Austin," He tells me with a light hearted laugh.

"Does your family visit you often?" I ask him and his expression quickly changes.

"Why so many questions, Lauren Cimorelli?" He asks.

"Just wondering," I say and shrug my shoulders.

"My dad, he, Uh, he passed away right after I had been diagnosed with lung cancer a few months ago," He tells me and I feel bad for asking now.

"Oh gosh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean too-," I say but am cut off.

"Don't stress" He tells me with a small smile.

"So your mom, does she visit often?" I ask him, carefully. He nods his head and turns his attention onto the line in-front of him.

"Well I was only put in the hospital two days ago, if it was my choice I'd be at home right now but my doctor wanted me to be in here where they could treat me better," I say and his eyes go back to mine.