The Countdown

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A few days passed, and the bracelet would not budge from my arm. If that wasn't freaky enough, the number on it kept dropping. 104, now.

After the last few days of wearing long sleeves and avoiding questions, I had no choice but to tell someone. I had to know what the numbers meant. Indeed, I was ready to show the bracelet to my family. Planning for during breakfast seemed like a perfect time, but of course, something got in the way of that.

Rushing downstairs to the scent of crispy toast and bacon, I ran right into the kitchen just in time to see my family already dressed. It was a thursday morning...at nine thirty in the morning...in summer.

"Angie, why aren't you dressed? You have a physical today, remember?"

Feeling out of breath and sillier than ever, I tried to remember about the doctors appointment. Nope, nothing at all. Was this some kind of trick? Was it April fools day all over again?

"I don't remember any physical planned for today. Are you sure you told me?"

My dad stared at me with quite the quizzical facial expression. "Sweetie, we were all talking about it at dinner last night so everyone would remember to actually get up this morning. We were discussing going as a family this time so we can spend the day out afterwards."

Still, my memories they described did not suddenly come back, but they were all staring at me so oddly, I just brushed it off. No need to worry about it, right?

"Oh yeah, sure. I must have just been absentminded or something. I'll quickly go get dressed now."

Scooting back upstairs, and closing my bedroom door behind me, I felt the loss of breath feeling again. Boy oh boy, I must have been really tired. Planning on a cup of coffee before I left seemed like the best solution.

I put on a pair of jean shorts, a colorful long sleeved top, and a matching pair of Converse sneakers to go with it. Putting on a little bit of mascara and brushing my hair added more life to my pale face. Being pale is too natural for me apparently...even towards the end of summer. I just can't tan. Overall I suppose that's a positive thing, as my chance for skin cancer later on in life will decrease. Oh, the things we tell ourself to make us feel better about those tragic little flaws of ours. Being human is all about that.

During breakfast, I just sat and ate my rye toast with butter and grapefruit juice on my own, barely saying anything. Physicals weren't fun. Ever. As I sipped the still-too-hot coffee, my sister, Christine asked the question I was hoping to avoid for the past few days.

"Angie...it's still summer. What's up with the long sleeves all the time?"

"Is there something wrong with long sleeves?"

She glared at me through the green eyes, accented with a bold liquid eyeliner. "In eighty eight degree weather, I think so."

Ignoring her comment and avoiding the question, I continued to crunch down on the toast. This could have been a moment to tell my family about the bracelet, but I let the moment pass by. Christine was asking to get me upset and start a little fight. Sometimes she got like that. Learning to ignore and just deal with it became quite the skill of mine.

I finished up eating and got into the car. We eventually got to the doctor's office. Oh joy. Wasn't my last physical just like yesterday? The past year had seemed to go by too fast, in my opinion. Then again, all the things we don't look forward to come creeping around quite fast.

Like usual, they weighed me, checked my height, and told me to put on that little robe thing. Of course, the air conditioning is always cranked up so I was sitting there almost fully bare in the cold. Pleasant. The doctor ran the usual tests but then noticed something on my back.

"How did you get this?"

I stared blankly at the wall ahead of me. "Get what?"

Without any other word, the doctor pinched, tugged, and took photos of my back.

"I'm going to have to take some tests on what appears to be an abnormal bruise. This is probably nothing, but I need to make sure that it's not anything serious."

Closing the door behind them, I had the time to get changed back into my clothes. Using my phone, I managed to find a way to see my back. Sure enough, there's this purple and black welt of bruise. I don't remember hitting it or causing that. I don't even have any pain towards it. What in the world was this deep nasty bruise doing there?

The doctor shortly came in afterwards. With a stern expression and a pile of paperwork, I didn't really know what to expect, but it didn't seem good.

"Look, Angie. The bruise on your back is a symptom. This is an extremely rare case, but with the weight lost since last time and some other factors through the tests...you have been diagnosed."

I looked at the doctor. I tried to make sense of what was happening, but I couldn't.

"Angie, you have cancer and only a few months left to live."

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