I thought it was over

“If there’s an experience you want to have, go for it. Don’t let cancer be your whole life!”

I sighed. I already lost hope when I was just diagnosed for cancer. First they said it was just dry cough symptoms. Then they said it could be pneumonia. Now, it was cancer.

They kept trying to give me a positive attitude by saying it is still treatable; I was just in my initial stages. But I couldn’t. I would die anyways, either way.

And there was my ma, kept giving me the daily dosage of positivity quotes and cancer survival patients’ stories. Oh yes indeed, I would miss her when I’m gone so I utilise every moment with her. And baba, he seemed inexpressive. He hardly gave any try and I wouldn’t blame him for it. When you know something’s not going to happen, why suffer yourself in failed hopes?

Dad entered my name in the oncology ward register. He looked at me- cold and pale, as if he wanted all the pain to end soon. And it will.

“Suhana beta, this is the top most oncology hospital we can best afford for your speedy treatment. Please, make it work,” mom pleaded.

“Life is not in my hands ma, stop wasting your hard earned money on a dead investment,” I sighed.

Mom tried not to cry. She ushered me inside the ward. The hospital odour; it was as horrible as I heard about it!

“Beta, this is Dr. Hoffen. He will take care of your daily treatment,” mom introduced.

“Thank you Mrs. Mehta. Hi, Suhana, do you know what Hoffen means?” He asked.

I shook my head “No,” 

He laughed. 

“Hoffen is a German word for hope. And in my service, I will try my full best to give you all the hope you need. And the best you could return the favour is by battling your negativity,” he introduced. If only that were possible.

“Ok,” I said anyways. Mom waved a goodbye at me and dad left without another word.

… 

It was another crisp morning dawned at the dull ward. I stretched my arms as I opened my eyes. I saw my table wasn’t empty: they had served coffee while I was still asleep. I wasn’t a big coffee fan so I took the desire to skip it.

Suddenly, I heard people laughing. Who and why they could be laughing at such a situation?! I pressed the call button. A nurse arrived at my cabin moments after.

“What’s the noise outside?” I ask. 

“It’s the laughter club Maam. It’s their early morning practice,” she informed.

“Can I see them?” I ask. She nodded a yes and offered to guide me there. All it took was two lefts and a right to reach the lawn. I saw a group of people in a circle, throwing their arms in the air and laughing. I noticed a lady instructor in the centre, giving them the instructions.

“Now, stretch your legs more and repeat again,” 

The group followed her directions.

“I see you have found our laughter club!” I heard Dr. Hoffen’s voice from behind.

“How do they find the strength to laugh?” I ask in awe “Don’t they know they are going to die?”

“That’s the power of positivity, Suhana. You can find the slightest ray of sunshine even in the darkest nights.” 

I couldn’t let myself believe it. I could have hardly believed it myself if I found a smile on my face when they said I have cancer. Absurd!!

“Would you like to give it a try?” He asked “Maybe it’s your thing?”

No. It could never be. I politely denied.

I moved away from there. I couldn’t afford to lose my sight too. The aisle was now filled with the usual crowd of patients. Some were staring on the ground hopeless. Others were trying to divert their thoughts by checking out the quotes stuck on the wall.

Was this going to be my future? The lingering hospital smell, the wards, the blue uniforms? My dreams of being a writer was going to go unfulfilled. Life hates me. That was clear.

…

“There’s not much improvement,” Dr. Hoffen informed my parents “Maybe we need more time,” 

Mom stared an angry glance at me. She knew I wasn’t trying.

“Please do visit often. Your presence might uplift her spirits,” the doctor suggested.

Mom and dad nodded. They knew it would fail. But they weren’t quitters: I knew them well. 

I decided to take a walk around the ward- I didn’t know why I intended on it. I informed my nurse before leaving my cabin.

I saw several patients, some had emotionless faces, some had pointless meanings. I knew I was one among them, too. I didn’t realise I had been staring at them for a long time, until a tall bulky man turned his head towards me. He had a scar running across his forehead, and was quite muscular as well. I tried to avert my vision quickly but looks like he noticed me. He was walking towards me, and I was trying to look at the ground, avoiding contact with him.

“New patient?” He asked in a glum voice. I nodded.

“Your name?” He asked again. He had a baritone voice that kind of scared me.

“Suhana Mehta.” I replied “Yours?”

“Sujith Maran.” He introduced “Cancer?”

I nod again.

“What type?”

“Breast cancer. Treatable, but not curable,” I explained .

“Guess we are the same category. I have leukaemia,” he revealed. He seemed like my dad: inexpressive when you know the truth, and emotionless when you know you have to live with the truth.

“Do you do anything for a living?” He asked. Tears threatened to fall from my eyes but I quickly brushed it off.

“I aspire to be a writer, but my condition destroyed my dreams,” 

“Who allowed you to choose cancer as your only life?” He started. I refused to listen.

“Please, no, don’t start again. I’ve heard that a lot, Why let cancer run your life and all those quotes. I’ve just given up on the thought of survival.”

“But that’s the truth, isn’t it? Why do you not let yourself believe it? Heard of cancer warriors?” He questioned.

“One in a million get the chance. My cancer is treatable, but it will always live within me and with me. I just, don’t want any failed hopes- can we talk about anything else, please?”

“Okay, I respect it. What’s your ward number?”

“3” 

“Three is my lucky number. My ward is right opposite to yours- No.7. We should visit often,” he smiled. It was a weird smile, but it made me laugh. It confused him a bit.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that you have a cute smile,” I didn’t know why I said that!

“Oh, thanks, I don’t get that often; people say I have a weird smile- that’s why I don’t smile a lot,” 

“You should. It looks good on you,” I smile. There is an awkward silence for a moment after which Sujith cleared his throat.

“I should be leaving for my ward- you should too, our nurses would be worried,” he said. I nod.

 

I feel butterflies in my stomach .. But that’s nervousness, right?

STAY TUNED FOR PART 2!!