>It's like the words just slide off my brain, refusing to stick whatsoever. The dull ringing pain in my body the only sensation I have any more. The shock holds my heart still.
>"Mr. Iadakan I know this is some pretty heavy news. Thankfully we have many treatment plans to help you stay healthy as long as possible."
>The doctors voice spouts words that carry almost no meaning to me.. I have no clue how long I sit there and just stare at the floor, it's linoleum tiles glistening in the fluorescent light from above. Small reflections of the room and my own face distorted heavily in it. Mindlessly I find my hand tapping the bed next to me.
>The only thing I can do is plan. A torrent of questions strikes me all at once. I glance up to lock eyes with Dr. Brinck, the graying diplodocus giving me a soft look.
>My mouth quivers as we lock eyes. A heavy look in his. A sheen deep inside betraying a thought he has to keep locked down. It's not pity. It's not regret nor sadness. He looks at me behind his wall with a look of knowing sympathy. I can only imagine the times he has to ring death's toll for men like me.
>I manage to swallow my own thoughts and prod for information. Curt and short, not oft I droop to speak like this. "How long?"
>He takes a deep breath, filling his form with the sterile air. The mild buzzing from the bulbs ahead starting to threaten to grow to a cacophonous roar. He beats them back with his voice.
>"You can expect maybe a year or two at best." Cold, calculated and quiet. Nothing behind it but fact. I find my hand shaking slightly as it grips the edge of the bed now.
>A fear sets in. Something inside me screams out and wails in horror. I've seen what people look like near the end. Grandpa didn't go without fighting.
>'Fight.' Dirty word they use for it. It's no fight nor struggle. It's rotting. Slowly losing yourself to something within as it takes you, piece by piece. It scares the shit out of me.
cont.