Pretty Little Black Parade

Dead!

"Sometimes I think I'm dead." I say.

Doctor Parker looks up from my chart. "Is that so?" She asks. Doctor Parker is about 26. She's a surgical intern. I'm her homework a lot of the time. I had just woken up to the sound of her in my room.

"Yeah." I say. "When I wake up and see you standing in my room. She laughs.

"Do you think your in Heaven or Hell?" She winks.

"Hell."

"Ouch." She acts offended.

"Wanna know why?"

"Cause I'm not nearly as pretty as some of your other doctors?"

"No. Because you're standing there all attractive looking and I'm laying here in a bed. And not in a sexy way."

She smiles. "I have to give you this IV to prep you for surgery."

I sigh. "I have a question."

"Shoot."

"It's not medical."

"That's alright. I know more than just medicine."

"If I survive this surgery will you get into bed with me and let me take your scrubs off?"

"Maybe." She winks. "Maybe I will."

"No strings attacked?"

"Was that a metaphor for hot sex with no relationship responsibility, or did you mean no IV's?"

I laugh. "I meant it as a pun."

"Nice job."

"Thank you. I try. I have a lot of time on my hands, you know."

Doctor Perison walks in with a team of three other surgeons.

"Doctor Parker, you can stop the IV." He tells her. She stops getting the needle out from her tray, and puts the bag back into the cart.

"Ezra, I have bad news." Doctor Perison sits on my bed.

"Lemme guess." I say. "Cancer's gone. I don't need any surgery and I get to go home and I have to go back to work and teach highschoolers. That's the bad news, right?"

"I wish." he says. "I just reviewed today's CT scan."

"And the chemo's making my brain shrink?" I joke.

"Not quiet. Your mets aren't as small as we had hoped."

"The chemo didn't shrink them?"

He shakes his head. "I'm sorry. No."

"So what does that mean?" I ask.

"It means no surgery today."

"Good." I say. "I didn't wanna have to fork over all that money." I joke. But inside I'm dying. Another pun. Ha.

"So we're gonna do some more chemo. Different kinds. And try this again next week. Okay? Sound good?"

"I'd rather sleep."

"Pardon me?" he asks.

"I just want to go home." I lean back.

"Mr. Fitz. If you go home, you will die." He tells me as if I don't know. He leans forward with concern. 

"That's what I meant by I'd rather sleep." I say.

He stands up. "We'll do another round of chemotherapy tomorrow at noon. This one will be slightly more aggressive."

"Great. Can't wait." I shake my head. "Just great."

Everyone leaves and I'm alone in my room. I turn on the TV and watch it mindlessly. I have cancer. I'm going to die.

I should be crushed by the news I got. But I'm not. I'm kinda glad. Death is so much easier than fighting, when you have nothing to fight for.

Thanks for reading! Let me know how you like it.