A Dog and May

IV

"Bring the trainees down here, not much use in doing nothing, come into the observation room..." The voice faded away into the long echoing hallways. There were clacks from the shoes on the concrete and squeaky wheels running past the door of the room that I was in. The room was 209, I could see it, black metal numbers at the top of the door. I was in a hospital, for whatever reason I was in a bed and my hand felt extremely sore. Noticing the multiple stitches that were directly in the center of my palm I sighed. Couldn't remember much from yesterday and had a sickly breath that could make anyone fall unconscious. Oh, the cigarettes, I remember. Why did I do that... I looked around the room and it was everything usual but it seemed blander, like each shade of white was toned down and the lights were running out of electricity, struggling to stay lit. The bed that I was in had little to no padding and there were machines on either side of me, god knows what they do. A doctor stepped past my door and peaked in, stopping in her tracks she looked distraught and walked quickly away. I was confused as to why but all I could do was sit still because this hangover had complete control over my body.

"Alright I'm coming. Do you have the papers?" A voice came from the echoing hallways overtop of clicking heels. Two sets and one other very faint, light voice. The feet stepped into the doorway and I was greeted by a doctor holding papers in his hand. He had a grim face that looked like that of a disappointed father but as if he was used to it. The face had seen its battles and there was nothing those eyes hadn't seen. His hair was white, but not from age. He was fairly tall but still towering over the lady that stood next to him. The nurse, I assume because of her garments compared to his, had a beautiful diamond ring on her finger. But the ring didn't coincide with her facial expression. The smile that couldn't be broken was shut and shot to the ground. But it wasn't a frown, there was no sadness, just a grim reality facing fate. I felt I already knew what was coming.

"Mr. Dane, glad you are awake, and feeling well rested?" The grimness turned into a slight smirk for a second, sharing a moment of despair between us. I nodded and let out a quick noise, assuring that I had a good sleep when in reality I wasn't entirely sure what I had. "Well, we were alerted to your presence by a pedestrian, noticing your body passed out on the ground in a pool of blood." His face went back to the disappointed fatherly figure. "But, thankfully, we got there quickly and it was nothing fatal. You needed a few stitches but I'm sure you'll be quite alright." He gave me quick smile and sniff of air out his nose. I nodded back and felt the headache pound around the metal room inside my head, ringing in my ears bouncing back and forth and landing in my temple where heat from hell could be felt. "But, there is some graver news. Darling could you leave us to it and shut the door on your way out?" There was a pause and the door shut with footsteps trailing out. "Alright, this is going to be hard to hear."

"What are you talking about, why did she leave?" My head was laying back on the pillow, I felt comfortable but my headache was still there and the lights were beginning to hurt my eyes.

"We have made a rather, astonishing, discovery." He spoke with a grave voice, getting quieter and more dim with every pause he took. He looked down at his hands, rubbing the knuckles on his right with his left. He took a breath and let out a sigh. "We have found cancer cells, within your body. Prostate cancer." The words came out and I almost didn't listen because this headache was taking over. But the words sounded so unfamiliar, so out of the blue that they had to make some sort of tone in my head. I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was staring at me with a look of disbelief and sadness that I couldn't understand. Why was he looking at me in such a way? Surely, he had told this to many patients before, positively he was desensitized to these sorts of statements. I tilted my head back to the pillow and rest for a moment. The silence in the room stirred, then broke.

"They aren't very prevalent yet, but there are signs..." He let out another sigh. "I'm afraid to say it gets worse. The cells are extremely aggressive, leaving only a slight chance of... getting better." He put his words down and spoke softly, I could understand now why this was different. It was normally that you were going to be fine sort of statement. That, its not a big deal though, 6 months' chemotherapy and you'll be good! But not this time.