Week 8 Journal Part 1: Trauma

 

            “At this rate I’d say you only have weeks left to live.”

            Doctor Singh’s voice remained steady as he continued with his monologue. I could only sit there in utter disbelief, tapping my foot nervously to lull out the worst of my fears coming to fruition. Why had I been so careless? Why didn’t I listen?

            “…Excuse me sir, did you hear what I just said?”

            My senses suddenly snapped back to reality, there’s no way I would be able to continue to move on after this meeting. Nodding my head, I cleared my throat, “So you’re telling me I really don’t have that much time left? That figures.” Smooth. Act nonchalant. Maybe that will make it less painful.

            “The tumors metastasized and have spread past the blood barrier in your brain, expect to see yourself changing within the next few days.”

            Great. Once again, I felt my mind go blank. When a person is put into a situation like this, maybe they would want to reflect on their past. I could think of nothing of importance. Was my current life on this planet really that meaningless?

            After an uncomfortable talk with Doctor Singh I had left his office in a rush. The state said they would send a nurse over to my house to take care of my when it came to be my time. More like they were sending a prison guard to keep me contained so that I wouldn’t have the chance to do anything of importance before my great disappearance.

            Walking into my lonely house I realized today had never felt more surreal than ever. Lately the headaches had been getting worse, and I was unable to move out of my bed some days because the pain in my neck had become too unbearable. At least that was one positive thing—I’d never have to return to that dreary corporate office ever again. I walked past my living room to my kitchen. The only thing I could manage to do without getting too breathless was sitting down on the one lone chair that adorned the room.

            From my experience thus far, there was no reason to have more than one. Sure, I lead a lonely life, but I never felt it was too much of a problem. Solitude sometimes really did feel like bliss. Just thinking about that made my skin start to crawl. I had never considered myself to be a people person. Why did it suddenly feel like I craved the attention of someone else?

            It was that fateful night, as I sat alone in my kitchen, I realized I needed to go out with a bang. No one was going to stop me even if they dared to.

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