Prescription for Miss Walker

Throwing up was becoming somewhat of a daily routine for me. I'd get up, try and eat but then heave it before it fully digested. I didn't know what it was, so I considered calling Ash for a consultation, then I remembered two days before and changed my mind. I didn't have his number written down for some reason, so I decided to stop by Dr Spears' office instead.

I wore a large blue hoodie and black slacks. It was just the hospital after all, there was no need to get dolled up.

I waited outside of his office for what felt like hours, keeping myself occupied with watching everyone else around me. Nurses moved fast and fluidly on their feet, probably in a hurry to get to some trauma patient. Visitors spoke to each other as they walked out of the sick room of someone they loved. Nobody thought to just relax, and that was the problem with these places -- there was no time for that.

"Miss Walker? Hello, I wasn't expecting you today." Dr Spears had materialized in front of me, a genuine smile on his puffy face.

I got up and reached out, clapping him once on the upper arm before I drew back. Maybe that was an out of character gesture, let's hope he didn't notice it.

We entered his domain and took our typical seats. The room was no different than when I'd seen it last. Pastel and vibrant colors on the walls. For some of his younger patients, I assumed.

"How can I help you today?"

"I was just..." I moistened my lips. "I've been vomiting a lot lately. It's not bloody or anything, I was just wondering if it's like a side-effect or something."

His eyes narrowed. "To what, exactly?"

"Dying, I guess." Death wasn't a subject I spoke lightly of, but right now, my answer just came out disinterested.

Of course, I cared about when my end of the road was. Who couldn't? It was nothing more, really, than just a response. I didn't think about it, I just came out with whatever my mind told me to.

I didn't love my life, it had been a soulless waste for a while. I did, however, love the people in it. So, I didn't want to say anything about my health that would upset them.

Dr Spears moved around until he was leaning on the front of his desk, arms crossed. He looked down at me, in my wooden chair, in a way I understood all too well. Assessing the situation, looking for ways to break the news... it was the same stare I'd received from Ash more times than I could count.

"Have you had any sexual intercourse within the past couple of months?"

I coughed on my saliva. It kept going for about ten seconds or so.

"W-what?" I managed.

He shrugged in a friendly manner, his eyes averting to other places when mine tried to keep his. He played with his tie and watch, anything to avoid me.

"I have cancer. There is no way..."

"It's uncommon, but it's not impossible. There are a few steps we can take here."

I let him prattle on, but his words dulled and for the first time I actually considered the possibility of it all.

The signs were there, I suppose. I didn't worry about my menstrual cycle much, even before all this, it was irregular and came only every two or three months. It didn't last long either. I just thought it was my body being freaky. I couldn't remember when I last had one. Was it before or just after my diagnosis...?

I also put my extreme fatigue down to the dying and all, the cancer cells were destroying my body every day, so why wouldn't it affect how tired I became?

Then, there was what I'd come here for. I'd been throwing up, non-stop. How could I not think it? Any other time and my mind would have shot to it straight away. Yet, this was different. A lot. I had cancer, dammit.

"Would you like to go and take some tests, Miss Walker?"

I shook my head free from my thoughts to find him by the door, handle at the ready. He was waiting for me.

"Um, yes."

He passed me to a nurse who insisted I follow her into a private room. She laid me down on the exam table and killed the lights. Once she returned, she had with her a huge bulking machine that was going to confirm everything for me.

She turned it on as she told me to relax, squirting blue gel over my flat stomach.

I winced.

"Sorry, I meant to warn you it could be cold." She gave a soft smile as she moved the device in her hand around, tapping buttons next to the screen every now and then.

It had been more than ten seconds. If she didn't find anything now, then that meant she wasn't ever going to, right?

"Ah! There we go. Congratulations Miss Walker, you're pregnant, by an estimation of about six weeks." Beaming like the sun, she turned the monitor towards me so I could look at the small black dot she was pointing to.

It didn't look like a baby. It just looked like my stomach was empty. A black and white moving picture, that's all I could see.

A familiar heat began to swell up inside me, as I could feel myself jerking up from the table. The muscles in my face ached, even as the tears cascaded down it and kissed the skin. I held a hand up to my mouth to muffle my sounds, but it wasn't enough. I was louder than a Banshee.

The nurse went to touch my shoulder, then thought better of it.

"Would you like me to call the father?"

Ash didn't like children.

I shook my head, as I took the tissues she was offering out to me and wiped off the gel. Under normal circumstances, I'd be crying tears of joy -- but my life wasn't normal anymore, and this circumstance wouldn't be a case of celebration. It was a hazard, in more ways than one.

So, instead of going back round to Dr Spears' office or thanking the nurse for being the bearer of such news, I sat up and looked at her fully.

"This baby will never be mine," She went to interrupt, probably with some heartwarming speech, but I had to stop her. "I'm dying, with every day I get weaker. So, it can't be mine. I need the pills."

A small frown settling upon her face, she left the room for a couple of minutes. And I was alone, paranoid that the door would be broken down and Ash would be behind it, see everything in the room and explode.

One thing is for sure, I could never tell him. He didn't like children, that much was evident, but that wasn't my excuse.

No, because if he learned about this little incident, he'd stop seeing me.

Recently things between us had been getting better, the sex was out of this world and I looked forward to having him sleep overnight again. We couldn't do that any more if he found out. That would all be replaced with shouting and restless nights, or worse.

I might never see him again.

And I just couldn't have that.

The nurse returned with a small cup in her hands. She put it down on the bed. Inside it was a singular pill, small but intimidating.

"I'll leave you be, I'm right outside."

What a lovely woman, I thought, even though I couldn't bring myself to smile at her. She left without another word, so I could be alone.

It was quiet in here. No sound, nothing but my breath.

If I took that pill, I'd never know anything about what could be. A boy, or a girl? In the medical profession like his father, or like me? I'd never be able to watch them take up a hobby, jump for joy when they got good grades, or be the overbearing parent when they begun dating. I'd never know if they'd have blonde hair, or green eyes like mine. I wouldn't have to go through the dreaded teenage phase, and be called a loser because I didn't understand.

And it would all be down to a singular pill I swallowed when I was twenty-five.

Could I kill that possible future?

Could I take that right away from them?

I didn't wholly comprehend the Pro Life protesters until I was faced with this decision. Sure, I knew what they were about and why they'd be mad some women choose to abort their babies, but I hadn't needed to think about it until now.

It may just be a fetus right now, but if I were to let that grow then it would become a person. With eyes and ears, heart and lungs, and tiny fingernails.

But there was just one more thing.

I had cancer.

It was going to kill me. That had been the plan. How could I ever have a child if I had less than a year to live? Would they cut me open to save it, even though at that stage it would be unlikely to survive anyway?

I didn't think about anything else, as I grabbed the plastic cup and tipped back its contents. It stuck in the back of my throat -- questioning me itself.

With a steady cry, I forced myself to swallow.