I’m Sick

Prognosis not good

I stared out the window. It was one of those giant panes that could serve as aquarium glass. It was the golden hour, and the green leaves and purple flowers of the azalea tree outside looked a little darker than usual. Dad’s favorite, azalea trees, because they had ‘em all over at Augusta National golf course.”I think golf courses are pretty,” he’d tell Mom when she asked what he liked about the game. “Look at the color!” Thwack.

“How long?” I asked the doctor.

They blew out one of those long breaths that you do when you have to admit something to someone you don’t really wanna say. This lets ‘em know that whatever the worst thing they were expecting is what they’re about to hear. Gives ‘em a chance to get started on getting over it without hearing a word.

I couldn’t tell you what the doctor looked like. Might’ve been a hot brunette or a Jag-driving douchebag with perfect teeth and a big watch on his hairy forearm. Could’ve been an old man with a gray ring around the crown if his head, where his hair had given up in his thirties. Who knows.

I can tell you about the mahogany desk though. It had this beautiful filigree in the corners. I tried to carve a tiki once in some bass wood and have a photo somewhere of the eight bandages it took to patch my hand back up. How on earth could anyone carve in mahogany like that? I bet the guy didn’t need a single bandaid when he was done. The surface of the desk was polished slick as the glass I glared out of. Couldn’t see my reflection in it though. Didn’t want to.

“How long?” I repeated.

I sensed the doctor shift in their chair. Whoever it was had the means to own this mahogany desk. I never wanted a desk the size of a bed. How do you move the thing? Then again, if you can afford a desk like that, you can afford to pay some other desperate mook to sacrifice his back moving it. Anyway isn’t mahogany what grows in the Amazon? Should’ve stayed down there. Damned doctors. Use particle board like the rest of us.

“Guy like you, could be years left. Especially if you stick with—“

I waved the good doctor quiet. Where does that cliche come from, “good doctor”? People throw good in front of doctor all the time like it belongs there. You never hear about bad doctors or neutral doctors the same way. Probably a play or something, huh. I wonder if the honorific exists in other languages. Ah well.

“Better question. How much is it going to cost?” Paying through the nose for insurance you simply must have is galling in and of itself. Too bad it doesn’t cover anything anymore, except, perhaps, mahogany desks.

The doctor let out another one of those breaths.

Right.

Maybe you can help me pay for this? I need $100000 to afford care. Here’s a gofundme if you can:

Thank you for considering.

Yeah, I’m sick….sick of this site! Twitstagrambooktok popularity contest

Read while you can ❤️