Carpe Diem

Chapter 1

"Mr Sullivan to Room six, please."

My knees were shaking as I got up and walked down the corridor. I'd been dreading this moment for a week, ever since I went to my GP about the pain in my belly, expecting to be given tablets and reassurance, and was instead packed off to the hospital to be prodded and poked and have sharp things stuck in me by people with worried expressions on their faces. They'd talked about what they thought might be the problem using very long words that meant nothing to me. "We'll do some tests," they'd said. "Come back in a week for the results."

That had been the worst week of my life. Seven days of contemplating what sort of awful fate must be in store for me. Worst of all, I was on my own. My wife Hannah was off at a business conference in New York, with wall to wall meetings, never answering her phone. And when I did finally manage to get through to her, she made light of everything: "you're such a hypochondriac, Mark. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

Well, thanks a lot, Hannah. I saw those doctors' faces. They're supposed to be cheerful and reassuring, aren't they? They don't wear expressions like that if there's nothing to worry about. Those were the looks of people talking to someone they know is on the way out. How long had I got left? A year? Two? Maybe only a few months? I wanted to know, so I could make the best of whatever time was left to me.

I'd find out soon enough. Taking a deep breath, I opened the consulting room door. I could see straight away from the look on the doctor's face that it was bad news.

"Ah, you must be here about your test results." I could see her wince as she prepared to deliver the bombshell. "I'm ever so sorry to have to tell you this, Mr Sullivan, but ..."

"Stop there, Doctor. I don't want to know the details. Just tell me, how long?"

"Just one day. Twenty four hours."

"ONE DAY?!!"

"I'm very sorry. I know this is a sensitive matter for you. Let me assure you ... "

I raised my hand.

"Don't say another word, doctor. I won't take up any more of your time."

What I meant, of course, was that I didn't want to take up any more of my time. My God, I had one day left to live! No way was I going to waste half an hour of it talking to some doctor about whatever grisly end was coming my way. Whatever time I had left was there to be enjoyed as best I could. Not a moment to waste!