I guess some people in the world know how it feels to have everything taken away from you, how it feels when the whole world is against you. I can relate right now. You'd think the intoxicating smell of disinfectant and anesthetic would have worn off after an hour but it hasn't. It's still lingering in the air whilst my lips tremble self-consciously.
The past hour replays in my head; the receptionist running for the doctor, the quieting of the other patients, the ride to the hospital as Angela remained unconscious and I gave the paramedics both mine and Angela's details though it took me several minutes before I could find the ability to speak.
I tried to follow behind her as we arrived and doctors stared to gather around the stretcher that she was laid on but a nurse caught a hold of me before I had the chance.
"No, you wait here whilst the doctors deal with your mother."
So now I'm sat outside a procedural room, impatiently waiting whilst other patients glare at me because Angela inadvertently pushed in front of them. I can't concentrate though. I can't even breathe. I just wish someone would tell me something, anything.
Everyone else in the waiting room is either tense, nervous or plain exhausted due to the anxiety. The waiting room has a dreary look to it and I've been staring at it's four walls this past hour as I keep trying to make endless distractions.
The receptionist asks me if I'd like to phone anyone but I explain to her how I've already phoned a close friend of ours. Since I don't have any family to inform about the incident, I phoned the first person that came to mind.
So I try to stay calm, attempting to sip at a coffee that tastes so bland I feel tempted to spit it out. Just then, Mark comes running through the doors. I see him looking for me and I try to stand but I just fall to the ground, head on my knees and I sob subconsciously. Mark comes over and sits down next to me, clutching my wrist in an act to comfort me.
"Hey, she'll be alright. When did they last update you?"
"They didn't, I've been sat here for over an hour now."
Mark goes to find the doctor then, kicking up a storm as he demands to hear what's going on, for my sake. Finally, after an hour and twenty minutes of agonisingly waiting, the doctor comes to us with news.
"Family, I presume," he says, turning to Mark and I nod. It seems simpler just to say he is. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting but we ran some tests. I was unaware that you were still here."
"Please, is she alright?" I ask, desperately.
"I'm afraid it's bad news. Angela has lung cancer. She fell unconscious due to the cancer clots covering her lungs, causing her to lack in oxygen levels. I'm terribly sorry."
The ceiling drops on me. The hospital walls close in on me, crushing me slowly. I can't speak. I think I'll be in that room with Angela soon as right now because I don't think my lungs are even functioning. I am unable to breath. I run out the hospital doors, afraid to face the doctor again. This can't be real. I pinch myself but I'm not dreaming. This is reality and I'm the victim.
Mark runs after me. I'm trying so hard to control my face, my lips trembling. I open my mouth, trying so hard to speak but my voice fails me. There isn't anything to say anyway but several minutes pass before I finally urge myself to ask the question.
"Can I see her?"
"Well, let's head back inside and ask," Mark says but his voice wobbles.
