I have cancer?
I’ve never been one to question an informed or proper diagnosis. If the evidence and research are there then it must be true but I have cancer? I’m only nineteen. I just graduated, I just applied for my top-choice universities. I just applied for internships that would make my name in this world. I was just taking my SAT exam and now I’m sitting here being told I have cancer. That I’m going to die before I have the opportunity to build my legacy. I stare blankly at the doctor as my parents cling to me to steady themselves as they cry. I have so much to do. I have so much I haven’t done. I have no legacy yet. I haven’t fallen in love like the movies. Not that love wasn’t my greatest priority but I’d like to at least try it once. I haven’t lived. And now life is deciding that I shouldn’t be able too. “How long do I have?” I ask in anticipation of a morbid response. It’s not that I wanted to know, I needed to. I don’t like to start things I’ll leave unfinished. Unfinished won’t get you a legacy. Unfinished is the end of a story only it doesn’t actually have an ending. Will I even have an ending? I’m spiraling when I hear the doctor respond. “I believe if we start treatment now then we can minimize the tumor’s size. This meaning you may be able to completely recover and go into remission within the next few months.” He’s a very hopeful man which tells me he hasn’t been here for long or that he’s had to deliver news like this too long. “What are her treatment options?” My mom knew what to ask and I appreciated it. She knew when I was spiraling even if she never mentioned it. “Well Mrs. Richardson, Cassandra’s tumor is considered inoperable due to its size and placement therefore our first treatment option would be to minimize its size by doing a full round of radiotherapy first. If the tumor responds well, it will decrease in size allowing us the opportunity to operate and remove it entirely.” He’s made it sound simple. Like it was a mole or skin tag. I felt the squeeze of my hand as my father looks at me through tear-stained eyes. He was waiting for my input and showing me that I had his support no matter what my decision was. “I’ll do it.” I break through the deafening silence as I stare defeated at my feet. “You don’t have to make a decision right now Cassandra. We can revisit this once you’ve had time to digest.” Another false reassurance. God I hate this place. “I either do the radiotherapy or I sit down waiting to die. There are no other choices so I’ll start radiotherapy.” It look everything in me to answer without falling apart like a bag of bones. If I planned on building a legacy or a name for myself, I couldn’t risk getting cut short by death. I needed to procrastinate my possibly untimely end until I reached the success that I have worked so hard to achieve. My parents tell the doctor that they will support my decision to begin treatment and with that, the doctor nods and says he will begin my discharge paperwork and contact the oncology department to schedule my first appointment. He leaves the room in swift silence as if the noise would make the room any louder than my mind. I have cancer. I don’t have a legacy yet. But I have cancer.After collecting my things and getting my appointment confirmation paperwork, I left with the eerie feeling that my return in four days would be the realization that I may never have my legacy. In four days, I would be coming back to the hospital for my first initial consult with the oncology department and receive my first round of radiotherapy and even so, that’s not what frightened me. What frightened me was the unknown. I sat in the backseat as my parents drove me back to my apartment where my car would be waiting for me. They would have preferred I returned home but I need time to process on my own. I could tell their worry outweighed mine by a mile. As I saw the entrance of my complex, I felt a wave of relief as if my apartment had brought back my normalcy. I grab my hospital bag as we parked and began exiting the car. I then opened the drivers side door to which my father sat and gave home a hug and a ‘thank you’. I then reached over to hug my mom as I walked into my door.
I spent hours in my apartment thinking of what I could have done wrong to end up here but I don’t think there’s an answer. So I picked up my jumbled brain and began to focus on my emails. I open my nightstand to find my laptop and decide to distract myself with an other chatroom. I’ve used this chatroom to try and socialize with other people my age. It helps that it’s a chatroom for intelligent kids to pick each other’s brains and it’s mostly anonymous. Especially since socializing is not my strong suit. I log on and wait for my first IM to arrive. M: Hey, how are you? C: Hard day but nothing a good conversation can’t fix. (It wasn’t a lie - A moment like this makes me wish I had someone to snuggle up with and forget). M: Care to share? C: With a stranger? I think not. What would he say? Sorry? Pity wasn’t what I needed. M: You don’t remember me, do you? C: Have we met? M: We haven’t officially but we chatted a couple of times. How’d your SAT testing go? C: Appa
I gave him my phone number after talking for hours on the chatroom. Seemed only Fitting that we share real conversations that we could pick at each other’s perspectives without having to look for each other on an IM. If I’m being honest, there’s something about him that captivates me. I can imagine that his stellar and magnetic personality match a perfect smile and that is intelligence is met with perfect physique. He exudes confidence and although I hate to admire it - that confidence is sexy. There’s a moment where I imagine what it would be like for us to meet. Would there an undeniable connection or would the ghosts of my failed relationships haunt once again? Or was I the only one feeling this way? I snap myself back to the reality of things. I am 19 years old, sitting in my apartment alone at midnight and I just found out that I have cancer. I’m dying. And no one wants to be with a dying girl especially not when she could potentially go bald in treatment. Not to mention that
I wake up not knowing how long I’d been asleep. I sheepishly look for my phone as I feel a slight pulsating sensation in my head. I like to think that’s my head injury and not the tumor that upheaved my life. I finally find my phone while rustling through the sheets and see that it says Thursday. I had slept for two days? Along with the date, I notice the dozen missed calls from my parents and a text from Maverick dated yesterday. I decided to call my parents back to ensure them I was okay. I’m sure they would’ve stopped by now but I recalled they had a few meetings lined of this week. My parents both sat on the board committee for Sonoma, a small city outside of San Francisco. The same city I’ve grown up in my whole life. It’s not a bad place. Just a small town of about 11,000 people with ambitions and dreams. Just not the same as mine. I wanted a legacy to reach all ends of the country whereas the legacy most people built here was a family, suburban living and comfort. After speakin
I make it to the oncology floor at the hospital. The first thing I notice is this overwhelming appearance of hope. The entry area is decorated with the essence of life. Photos of flowers, calming colors and some plants in planters line the wall and lead towards a desk where I can already see the receptionist smiling at me. I walk over to her slowly as I look around. I almost expected a dreary appearance to this place. I mean, the people who come here are pretty much trying not to die or expire for better words. Yet this place was decorated to look peaceful, lively and friendly. I slowly reach the receptionist although I thought about turning around and making a bolt for the elevator. “Cassandra Richardson, I’m here for my consultation”. I say in a hushed voice as if the tumor in head could be a secret. “Welcome Cassandra, the doctor will be right with you if you’d like to have a seat”. She was cheery. In a place of people trying to change their fate, people who were dying and
It took me about ten minutes of fiddling with the clip on my IV line to be able to remove it and watch the medication reach my body. It was like flipping an hourglass and watching the sand try to reach the bottom. I look up at Dr. Rosario who smiles lightly back at me. I assume he’s proud of me but I get the feeling there’s something else too. Maybe it’s just in my head. “Am I supposed to feel itchy?” I ask as I suddenly feel prickly like a cactus and try not to scratch myself raw. “It can itch. It’s a mild reaction and you’re doing great so far. Do you feel anything else?” He asks with care. Care like he is really hoping I won’t run out of here screaming or light myself on fire in protest. “No. Am I going to go bald?” I couldn’t help but ask. I saw the woman in the waiting area as she left and I’m not able to contain my fear any longer. I start to shake mildly from anxiety and fear of what his answer would be. My appearance wasn’t important to me. It never was. But my ability
In one swift motion, Dr. Rosario lifts me into a cradle position and pinches the clip on my IV bag as he drapes over his shoulder. I think of protesting but the heat in my body keeps rising and I feel like someone has lit a match to every surface of my skin. I watch as he seems determined and almost frantic to reach the door at the back end of the room. He kicks it just enough to make it swing on the hinges. I jump at the sound. It reminded me of that one act of cruelty when I was thirteen. The one I didn’t deserve that made me hate the idea of my own beauty. Once inside, Dr. Rosario turns on the water in a stand up shower, hangs my IV bag on the hook just outside of the tile walls and steps inside with me in tow. The water is ice cold and I feel as though there’s steam radiating off of me or better yet him. I look at up at him like a sheep in the lions’ den. “I can stand.” I say in the tiniest voice. “I think I’ll carry you just for safety. I wouldn’t want you to slip and hur
I sat down at my previous chair where (Dr. Rosario) Darren originally placed me to start my radiotherapy treatment. I’d like to say this was going well but I’d rather not lie to myself. I had already developed symptoms to the treatment without having finished the treatment at all and it put me in a situation where I felt more sexual tension that I’ve ever felt in my entire life. I wonder if he felt it too? I stare down at my phone as I feel the medication racing through my veins and feel Darren watch me closely. His stare was filled with intent and I couldn’t exactly place what for. Was it full intent to make sure I’m okay or something else entirely? I choose not to ask as if the answer would be worse than the diagnosis he originally gave me. The one that puts my legacy in jeopardy.I’m still stuck in thought when I hear his voice break the silence.“Cassandra, can I ask you a personal question?” He says in polite and casual tone. I didn’t trust him entirely but in the timeframe that
I wake up around noon. I was exhausted from the highs of everyday. I go to get dressed and brush my teeth. I had to make it to my second treatment today where Darren would be waiting for me. I finish getting dressed and head to my kitchen for a a granola bar and juice then I’m out the door and on the way. I arrive at the hospital where I know exactly what floor I need to ascend too and where I’d have to wait. I get this eerie feeling as I head into the oncology department. No matter how nice the waiting area and receptionist are, I can’t help but associate this office with death. I see Darren come out to find me with a smile. “Nice to see you again, Cassandra. Are you ready? He holds a hand out to help me up. I take his hand and he leads me to the back where I had sat last time. This time, I see a woman sitting two chairs an over - receiving her treatment. She was frail, pale and had lost her hair. I start to hyperventilate at the thought that it would me in a few sessions. D
I finally make it home, shower and get into some comfy pajamas as I go to sit in my living room to think about how eventful this day was. I got the internship of my dreams at EnviroDoc. I met Maverick who’s swept me off my feet. A wonderful old soul gifted me my dream typewriter. And I told someone I was dying. Nothing prepared me for the events of this evening although the outcome was in my favor for once. That was until I had received a text about my upcoming appointment with Darren. Last time I was in the oncology office, my symptoms from radiotherapy were intense and Darren’s reactions and proximity were also immense. I had gotten worked up about my doctor. And the worst part was that I thought the tension could be mutual on both sides. I ponder the idea of being back in his office and how awkward it would be. But my thoughts are cut short by the ringing of phone. The notification on display for my eyes only. It was Maverick. M: Hey, I just got back home but I wanted
We walk for another 5-10 minutes until we notice the shops and boutiques start to close. “So what did you think?” I hear chime from Maverick as we walked back to the parking garage for EnviroDoc. “What did I think about what?” I ask almost confused. “About our day together. We had our interviews today. We had a good meal and you got the typewriter of your dreams today.” He smiles and lifts his hand to emphasize the heavy typewriter he’d been carrying so effortlessly. “I think today was more than I could’ve imagined.” I say with a smile as I face him. “I like to think I contributed to that smile with my undying enthusiasm.” He says jokingly. I look up into his eyes. “I wouldn’t have gotten this typewriter or my internship without your reminders and constant reassurance.” I roll my eyes on that last part but continue smiling. He has pleasantly surprised me which was an uncommon turn of events for me. Just then, Maverick leans down and kisses me softly, placing his free hand on
As we finished eating, Maverick paid the check and we made our way back to the busy San Francisco streets. We walked past a few window shops and talked about the upcoming trends plastered on every boutique window.“You ready to start work on Monday?” Maverick asks as we pass a glass building similar to the one we had just met in earlier today at EnviroDoc.“I think so. I mean the hiring packet says we’ll only be working Monday through Wednesday so it’s not a tight-knit schedule and it’s still a great opportunity even though I’ll be sharing it with you.” I say jokingly.“I promise to be a great distraction.” He winks as we pass an antique shop.I laugh a little. If he only knew how much of a distraction he’s become already. I look into the antique shop where I see moments captured in time and items of the ages. I notice a velvet-lined box with a beautiful Maplefield Vintage Typewriter. The mahogany wooden frame was polished to the point of reflection. I had always dreamed of purchasing
I sit as Maverick makes his way to the seat across from me. I think of something to say as the waiter makes his way over to ask what we’d like to drink. I hear Maverick answer something in Italian and the waiter nods and leaves. “You speak Italian?” Why does everything surprise me about him? As though he were a labyrinth I intended to get lost in. He looks over at me with a soft smile before answering. “My grandfather taught me. He said it’d be a waste for the language to die with him. Cosa ne pensi?” His smile changes from soft to almost flirtation. “What does that mean?” “I asked you what do you think?” He lets out a light laugh that sends a wave of nervousness all over me. I wasn’t used to going on dates or talking to guys as a whole. But I enjoyed Maverick and I’s conversations especially before I knew how hot he could me feel in my most intimate places. “Riveting” i smile with the same level of flirtation as he did before me. “So what did you order for our drinks?”
As we left the office, Maverick suggested we take a walk to a nearby Italian restaurant. It was only about a block away from the glass doors of EnviroDoc so I agreed. “So Cass, what made you apply to EnviroDoc in the first place?” He says as we wait at the crosswalk, never letting go of my hand. “I was watching some of their documentaries when I heard them advertise that they would be opening a new positional internship and encouraged California natives to apply. I thought that it would be a nice opportunity to travel while I research for the next documentary and share my skill of research. What about you?” I look up at him and wait for his response and I realize he started to seem a bit nervous. “I wanted to be able to travel, get out of California and see the world. And if I could do that, while contributing to something great - it would be an amazing opportunity to start my career.” He then smiles like he shared a valuable piece of information. He seemed to genuine and yet I
It’s only a short moment of silence when Mrs. Parton calls us back into her office for our group interview or stand-off as I’d like to look at it. “I suppose you to have already met being that you were both in the waiting room for some time. Cassandra, your achievements paired with your intellectual drive are compelling and astonishing. It shows your drive which I can only assume will be a valuable asset to our team here at EnviroDoc. And Maverick, your knowledge paired with your fascinating proposals are equally as astonishing and promising for EnviroDoc. Originally, there was only one position available for our internship but we would like to split the workload and position between the both of you on a trial basis of 30 days and see who has more to offer and who will be a suitable fit long-term.” She smiles as though she’s won the lottery. Split it? Split my succession with a potential love interest that I want but don’t know of if I should trust? “I would also like to add that a
I revisit the waiting room and sit on the couch across from the mysterious man. A coffee table riddled with magazines stands in between as I grab a magazine on Successful women to be acknowledged and recognized this past year. I skim the magazine and wonder if I’d end up in a publishing like this. A publishing of elites and their legacy - broadcasted upon each page for others to read and seek motivation from. I needed this internship and this man in front of me stood in my way of that. I peer up from my magazine and catch him doing the same. Skimming a magazine but peeking at me over the rim of the top. Was he thinking the same as me?I close my magazine and place it down on the table neatly and decide that conversation was a good attempt as any.“Are you here for the internship?”He smiles slightly as he looks up and puts down his magazine as if he knew conversation was on the horizon.“I am and I understand that there is only one position. But we’re both still here.” He analyzed the
“Please have a seat on. I’m Mrs. Parton and it is so nice to meet you.” She says with a professional and warming smile. I hand her my portfolio, sit down and make sure to keep posture high and offer a controlled smile. I think my crazed nervous smile would’ve scared her away. “It’s nice to finally meet you as well Mrs.Parton. I have nothing but the highest respect for your work.” Niceties aren’t going to get me this interview but I hadn’t lied. She created EnviroDoc and traveled the world making documentaries about the environment and planet. It was amazing how much she has put into her success. She’s formed a legacy. “Oh thank you! I was very impressed to read your application. You seem to be a very dedicated young woman on a mission and I’d like to learn more about you today.” She says as she sits across from me behind her desk. “Thank you. I will gladly answer any and every question you have!” Okay that was too eager but at least she smiled back at me and didn’t look at me li