I Promise

Oh great! I’ve got that incessant buzzing noise ringing in my ears and that awful taste of heavy metal in my mouth that happens when I’m anxious about something. I’m having flashbacks of acne and braces when my thoughts are interrupted…

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” says the young woman behind the reception desk as she hands me a heart-shaped wrapped chocolate. “Can I help you?”

“Uh, good morning, I’m Quinn March.” I say nervously hopping from one foot to another like a potty-training three year old. “I have an appointment with Dr. Goodham.”

Let me just say that normally doctors don’t make me nervous. But this is no regular doctor’s appointment. On this particular day, Valentine’s Day of all days – the single girl’s worst day of the year, the news that I am about to receive is the difference between my life as I lead it now and one that puts me in a fierce battle against my body to just actually live. As you can imagine, I’m hoping for the first option!

“Thank you Ms. March. Please just take a seat and Dr. Goodham will be right out,” says the over-smiling receptionist.

Hey, am I reading more into her smile? Because she looks to me like she’s feeling sorry for me. Oh, Jesus! She totally pities me. She must know something. Panic is starting to set in. I need to sit…sit and put my head between my knees before I throw up. Walking over to an empty sky-blue plastic seat I stop to take a quick glance around my surroundings.

Wow! It’s pretty nice in here! Walls of flat screen TVs and the skylight overhead must be the biggest one that I’ve ever seen. I’m staring up at the clouds when someone brushes past me, pulling me back to reality.

Looking at the woman who just sat down across from me, I can’t help but take in her face – drawn, sad and full of worry. Her hands are shaking and she looks to be on the verge of tears. And her head…covered with a horrible canary yellow and orange bandana... and that’s when it hits me. Looking around the whole room I feel my chest constricting…my lungs hurt…my head hurts…I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to be in a room full of cancer patients…I don’t want…I don’t want…Oh, God…I don’t want cancer.

I close my eyes tightly, silently wishing away the whole scene happening around me and just try to focus on my breathing.

This can’t be happening. Seriously, this really can’t be happening.

In a matter of two months I’ve gone from being happy, healthy and in love to someone who worries constantly, goes for weekly bloodwork and well, let’s just say that I was disappointed by yet another man!

I need to calm down. I need to bring in the big guy…I think it’s time to bargain…

God, can you hear me? I know you’re really busy, but if you could just listen for one second, I’d really appreciate it. Ok, here’s the deal…if I leave here today healthy then I PROMISE that I will do whatever you want. I’ll do good things…it sounds random, but I will make my life better. I’ll be charitable and kind to others…I’ll go to church (when I can)…I’ll marry and have kids and raise them to be loving and generous…I’ll…

“Quinn March?” asks the doctor popping his head into the waiting room and scanning the patients. “Follow me, please.”