Feel My Pain by Agent Midnight
Standard disclaimers apply
Hypochondria - A person's unrealistic
preoccupation with the fear that he or she has a serious disease.
People with hypochondria become absorbed by minor physical symptoms
and sensations, convinced that the symptoms indicate a serious medical
illness. These people maintain their erroneous beliefs despite reassurances
from doctors that there is nothing physically wrong with them.
*******
I'm dying.
Nothing's more terrifying than watching the emergency room's sliding
doors spill open to reveal the cold, gray halls and the impersonal
people dressed in white. Those doors parting to reveal screams and
cries, blood and lost hope, searing fear that nearly leaves me immobile
in the walkway. It's like in one of those really horrible family movies
where someone slams into an auditorium during a soul-catching violin
solo, and everyone turns and just stares as they stumble to their
seat in the back.
I step passed the yellow line to enter the hospital. Like every other
time, I can feel pity rolling off of the patients that sit there,
almost like they know that I am going to receive nothing but bad news.
In the face of Death, the guards come up and indifference sets in.
I'm dying.
The doctors missed it last time, but I know that I'm right. If they
don't help me, I know I'm going to die. I always thought it was the
doctor's job to find illness; how could they have missed something
this serious? How could they just turn away when a patient says they
are in pain? How can they turn me away like an emotionless object
just because they don't want to treat me of my disease?
Why are they letting me suffer?
I don't want anyone to feel the kind of pain I go through each and
every day without receiving any help from professionals. No one needs
to feel incapable of doing things because they are afraid of having
an attack and ending up helpless on the concrete somewhere downtown.
Medication doesn't work.
I've tried taking pills but pills don't cure Death. She can't be
pushed away that easily, and I feel like I am the only one who really
knows this.
Down two hallways and around the corner is my doctor's office, inbetween
the offices of two of her closest friends. I can imagine her holding
my chart and wondering how I'm going to take the news of my results.
She'll probably apologize at once for having to poke and prod me for
all those hours that seems like weeks ago.
How do you tell a person that they are going to die? I could never
be a doctor because I have too much emotion towards other people.
My doctor must be one strong lady to not only tell strangers the news,
but to tell her friend from the wars?
Is she going to lie to me?
Maybe she'll just stall...
"Can I offer you a drink?"
No, ma'am.
"Please sit."
How is she going to approach this situation? Did she call our mutual
friends and tell them all the horrible things they had missed? Are
Heero and Duo sitting in their home on that stupid, over-stuffed couch,
holding each other and whispering senseless lies to each other so
they don't have to believe anything? Is Trowa shaking his head in
denial, letting out that nervous laughter that only he can accomplish
while faced with bad news? Are our friends nervous and ready to take
me to the fanciest restaurant just because they pity me and want me
to have my last meal to be a good one?
"I have some bad news."
Do I really want to know this bad news? Maybe it's best that I'm
going to hear it from someone who cares about me rather than some
other doctor who doesn't give a fuck about what happens to me as a
person.
Someone else won't care that I will take my last breath sooner than
later. I'm too young to die, but I know that my time is approaching
just the same.
She will care, I think.
She's my friend, I hope.
Maybe she'll cry.
Her office is in sight now, the door closed to reveal her name on
a plate. Through the fuzzy glass windows, I can see her moving back
and forth in a clearly nervous reaction. As I near, I hear her voice
mumbling soft nothings, and it takes me just a moment to realize she's
on the phone.
Poor Heero.
Duo's not good company when he's sad.
Preparing oneself to hear news of impending death is hard. I almost
feel the need to turn and run back down the gray hall just to see
flashes of sunlight outside the doors.
Bad news.
The doctors missed it last time because it wasn't her. It wasn't
my doctor... my friend. I can't believe these bastards missed something
so huge and placed my friend in a questionable situation. She's talking
because she's worried now that she knows I'm in danger from my self.
How can I make her do this?
I don't want to be the bad guy in this situation, and I'm sure she
doesn't want that either, but if I stop and think about it, she probably
doesn't want me to get an emotionless apology from her fellow co-workers.
I can't.
Not now.
As I turn to make my way back towards safety, I nearly start screaming
as her door opens with a soft creak and she says my name.
"Quatre?"
Her hand slides against my shoulder, the soft touch sending shivers
down my spine. Terror begins to make an appearance as she turns me
around and leads us both into the office. I flick my eyes to her desk
immediately and see my chart next to her coffee mug, gray smoke billowing
out from the hot liquid.
Oh, god, I'm dying.
"Quatre."
No...
"Thanks for stopping by, but you could have saved yourself the
trip and just gave me a call."
How could she suggest such a thing? It'd probably be easier on her,
I guess. Not quite so personal.
"Your test results are back in."
My eyes flutter closed as she grabs my chart and starts flipping
through the pages. Her small office screams in sudden silence as she
stops on a page, and all I can hear is my heart rattling inside my
chest, pounding far too quickly for my liking.
I don't want to die.
No.
Too young.
She sighs quietly and ruffles more pages back and forth, re-checking
everything and wondering what she should tell me first. Should she
tell me about the individual illnesses first, or just come right out
and tell me how long I have to live?
Her voice cuts through the silence, smooth and calm.
"Quatre..."
I open my eyes and meet her gentle gaze. I shouldn't hide myself
from her when she isn't hiding from me. Her lips curve into a small
smile of pity, and more words form, shattering the silence again.
"... you're fine."
*******
The End
*******
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