The doctor broke the news, his voice a pitch lower than usual. My family waited in the lobby, unaware of the tidings that were bound to reduce them to tears.
"It's blood cancer, Daniel. Stage 4. The cancerous cells have spread throughout your bone marrow. If only you came sooner, we could have taken some measures, but now, there's not much we can do for you." He said.
Cancer wasn't something we saw every day in Nigeria. Any pain in the stomach or chest, and we ascribed it to the food we ate or the stress we put ourselves through during the week. I coughed up blood the evening before. It was at that moment that I concluded there was something else involved.
They say that sometimes blood cancer patients may never tell they have it. That was me. I had a fever here and there, but it wasn't anything serious. This was all too sudden. Almost like life was waiting to shoot me down. My heart went cold.
"How long do I have?" I whispered, almost mournfully.
"At most, with some medication, a year. Less than 5 months without medication." The doctor said. He flipped a page in his record and shook his head after reading something. I wondered what he was hiding.
"The treatment costs a lot of money, and you'll have to come frequently. Is this something you can do?" He asked.
I sat there to think. The effects of the medications, at most, lasted a year. It would be costly and financially draining. Not taking the measures meant a much shorter time to live, and it would be fraught with pain and suffering. Still, I decided not to pursue treatment.
Living under medication and its power would only cause me to become weary of life eventually. I worried about how to break the news to my family, especially my mother. She would be devastated.
I thanked the doctor and watched him leave. Then I began to ponder on what I would do with my short life. My thoughts were interrupted by my phone ringing. I picked it up to see if it was my boss from work.
He was a grumpy, greedy, and insensitive person who only cared about how much he could gain from a person. I was only working with him because he paid me well. He had no choice because I had rescued him from countless lawsuits over the years. His company couldn't have survived without me. He probably got into trouble again. I picked up the call.
"Hey, boss..." I started.
"Daniel, you had the guts to skip work today? Do you think I run a kindergarten here? Get back to work immediately, or I'll cut your pay in half!" He threatened. Of course, he knew the threats didn't work on me. He knew better than to threaten a lawyer.
"I won't be able to make it, chief. I'm sick. Really sick." I answered.
The man laughed on the phone like I cracked a joke. I frowned. This was one of the things I hated about the corporate environment. The lack of concern for the well-being of the employees.
"Yes, and I'm divorcing my wife tomorrow evening. Get back to work." He responded sarcastically.
"I'm serious, chief. I'm sick. I won't be able to resume work anytime soon." I said, annoyed. He was starting to get on my nerves again.
"Okay. If you don't show up in my office first thing tomorrow morning, consider yourself fired." He threatened again.
"Okay." I said and swiped up, ending the call. I was sure my boss would be pissed, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I tossed the phone away on the bed and laid back to resume the most important deliberation of my life. I had saved up a lot of money from my job, and I was still single.
'What happens after I die?' A random thought dropped into my mind. It came with a fear only old people would know. The young never thought about the concept of death because they always assumed they had a long life ahead of them. The old had consumed their lives, so when death called, this fear came.
'What if it's tomorrow?' Another thought came, then another, till a host of negative thoughts flooded my mind. Then, I found myself paralysed in fear and hopelessness. I felt time slip away, yet the paralysis remained.
My sister came through the door and saw me lying there, staring at the ceiling above me. The moment she entered, I recovered. I saw the worry on her face deepening, and I knew I had to lie.
"Hey... what's up? I was just about to come to you guys." I said as I fumbled to my feet, not forgetting to take my phone.
"I saw you deep in thought just now. Yes. I know what I saw. What happened? What did the doctor say?"
She began to hyperventilate. She always got like that when she was worried about something. I couldn't bring myself to tell her the truth. I feared she would fall sick after me and leave my parents catering for both of our sick bodies.
"Ah... You worry too much, Lizzy. I was thinking of how to get a few months' leave from that stingy boss of mine. The doctor says it's not something too serious. I just need to spend some time away from work and relax with my famil— relax, basically." I lied. I nearly blew my cover.
Elizabeth had always been the detective of the family. She knew something was fishy, but I was a really good liar. That lie would buy me enough time to figure everything out because I felt... Lost. I led my sceptical sister to the rendezvous point at the lobby, trying desperately to pretend everything was fine.
(End of part 1)
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