I’d come to believe that we are privy to an
overabundance of petrifying sounds in our lives. Noises that breeze through our
ears enter our brain and cause chills to run down our spine.
We attempt to shake off the feelings that these sounds illicit, but the sheer
terror of them do nothing but brand our skin with gooseflesh and nervousness. I
thought I’d heard most of them already. That I’d taken in the echoes that
strike fear through most individuals. However, I was mistaken. I
undoubtedly found myself absorbing the most chilling of them all. It was
unexpected and I still have trouble convincing myself that what’d happened was
tangible. No, it wasn’t the shrill scream of someone in grave danger. Or
the fictitious screech of a science fiction creature with hefty teeth and an
appetite for human flesh and blood. The one thing that I heard was something
that stopped me dead in my tracks. It put my life at a stand-still, in only a fraction
of a second. I developed tunnel vision when I grasped onto the spine-chilling
noise, my entire body seized up as if I’d been taken over by another life form.
The ability to control what I was thinking was gone, out the window it flew
like a winged creature that’d been set free. What was it? It was
the sound of fear in my own voice. There was an unstable quake when I’d
open my lips to speak and nothing came out. The Words I’d tried to construct
wouldn’t form themselves and I felt as if I’d lost the capacity to communicate.
I’d never had a reason to be afraid of it…until now.
“That can’t be right. Maybe you need to check
it again.” The wavering of my speech told me I was somewhere between disbelief
and denial. Neither of which was welcome near me.
“We went over the results with a fine tooth comb,
Miss. Patterson. Science doesn’t lie in this case.” The expression on the
doctor’s face was dripping with subtle bleakness.
“Well, there must be some other explanation.
Maybe you mixed the results up somewhere along the line.” I felt a tinge of
hope color my weak words.
“Listen, I know this is hard. But I assure you,
there is absolutely nothing wrong with the tests.” The salt and pepper haired
man sat down behind his desk.
“Okay, fine. I’m assuming there’s some sort of
treatment I should start soon?”
I didn’t much care for the grim look that fell over
his face like a mask of doom. “I wish I could say yes. But unfortunately there
isn’t anything we can do. The surgery is too risky. You could undergo
Chemotherapy and Radiation treatment, but if I’m being honest, I don’t feel as
though either would do much good.”
“So I don’t have any
options. This is just…it?”
He slowly nodded. “At best, in a case such as this,
I would say you have a year.”
“A year to do what exactly? Sit in my house
and rot?” I felt my anger bubbling to the surface like an over baked pan of
lasagna.
“I understand your indignation, I really do.
I think maybe if there’re some things you’ve wanted to do, it’s time to start
doing them.”
How could such few words have a blatant finality to
them? How could I come down with a common cold and then find out my life had
been reduced to a handful of months?
“I can prescribe some medication to get you through
the general symptoms, but above that…” He trailed off. He was being somewhat
compassionate I suppose. I wouldn’t want to tell someone they were dying
either, what a crap job.
I’d thought medical professionals were supposed to
heal you? They would diagnose the issue and bam you were handed a bottle
of antibiotics and better within a week. But unless he had a freaking miracle
stashed beneath that prescription pad, I was toast.
“If you’d like someone to talk to, I can recommend
someone.” He began to extend some sort of business card across the desk toward
me.
I abruptly raised myself from the chair that felt as
if it were squeezing the life from me. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’d
rather not waste the time I have left lying on a sofa and spilling my problems
to a stranger.”
It was difficult holding my anger at bay. Counting
to ten while I exited the medical facility helped but the urge to hit something
was a fierce impulse to fight off. Did I cry? For some reason, I didn’t at that
moment. I can’t say why either. I wanted to, but the tears wouldn’t
come. They stayed hidden in their little duct homes while I walked around
seeing red.
Cancer of the Liver is what they called it. Yeah,
he’d given me some mumbo jumbo scientific name for it, but all I heard was the
‘C’ word. The word that no one wants to hear in their lives. The word that rips
hope away from the person being diagnosed, and replaces it with desperation and
depression. With a disease like that, you’d think I was a raging alcoholic who
did nothing but fill her days by holding down a bar stool while finding the
bottom of a bottle. But I wasn’t. I didn’t touch the stuff. So how was
it I became strapped with a terminal disease such as that? Why was this
happening to me of all people?
I know life isn’t some kind of tranquil state
that we float through without a care in the world. I would be utterly stupefied
if I honestly believed that. No, life is a series of unfortunate circumstances
that lead us to make decisions we don’t really want to make. What to have for
breakfast, what to wear, and even what to say to the person occupying the seat
next to us on the city bus. We don’t really put much thought into it all, but
what are we really doing here? Why were we put on this planet for only a
miniscule amount of time? Is there some grand plan that we aren’t seeing, like
a big picture that has our entire life mapped out already?
Up until the dreaded news, I’d thought life was
something to take for granted. That I could wake up every day and be guaranteed
tomorrow. It’s hard to believe that everything can be changed in the course of
a few ounces of blood and a doctor’s visit. I continued to shake my head
wondering what really happened, was I dreaming of all of this? I wish I
was. Things would be easier that way. But such as life, nothing is easy.
We’re screwed no matter which way we go, and end up paying the consequences for
it every day of our lives.
I made a decision. I wasn’t going to sit around and
watch myself waste away like a banana rotting slowly on a counter. Nope, I was
going to live my life like I just didn’t give a crap anymore…well, not in a
negative way. I was going to throw caution to the wind, balls to the wall, take
no prisoners and do the things I’ve always wanted to do. You could call it my
bucket list, or my death list, whatever you feel comfortable with is alright by
me.
My life is timed; I have an expiration date stamped
on my rear like a yogurt container in the dairy section. After my time is up,
that’s it. I don’t get a free pass. I’m okay with it now. I have to be. If I
weren’t, I’d be that banana…I am not a banana.
But in the end I’ll get to laugh and smile at the
things I’ve accomplished with my time on this earth. I can’t wish my fate away,
I can’t find a genie in a bottle on a desolate stretch of beach to grant me
more time. I’m accepting it like you’d accept a second place trophy in a
one-legged man’s butt kicking contest.
At least I was given a year. To some it might
seem like a small amount of time, and truly it is. But when you’re given only that long to live, it can in a
way, seem like an eternity. I’ll do the things I’ve wanted to do because in the
end…no one can save London Patterson.
C.D. Taylor/Taylor Dawn began writing as an item to check off her bucket list. She resides in the southernmost part of Illinois, right on the mighty Mississippi river. She enjoys the quiet country life with her husband, son and the many farm animals that make up the rest of the family. She. decided that farm life was just a little too mundane, so she started writing erotica and fantasy to liventhings up, so far so good. C.D./Taylor entered cosmetology school right out of High School and practiced the art of hair styling for 12 years. When she isn't writing, she can usually be found sitting around a table making people laugh. She has always wanted to be a standup comic. She loves pulling practical jokes, dresses up in a costume every Halloween and believes that dancing is the key to a happy life (even if you aren't a good dancer). She believes that life shouldn't be taken too seriously, we will never get out alive anyway. More than anything, she is a kid at heart, she doesn't believe in bedtimes, eating everything on her plate, or having ice cream only for dessert. Her favorite quote is by Dr. Seuss..."Why fit in, when you were born to stand out."
.jpg){kind=tracking}
Posts
