It came as a shock when I heard the doctor say “You have been diagnosed with cancer”. At first, I could not process what he said, it sounded like a bombshell. I asked him to repeat what he said, this time, he requested I calmed down. He encouraged me by letting me know that all was going to be fine. At this juncture, I didn’t know if crying or smiling was the best reaction. There was light, but everywhere suddenly grew dark, I could hear my heartbeat, and I asked the doctor some questions. Doctor, am I going to die soon? and how many months do I have?  He replied, four months. I could not stand up from the seat but I had to.

I do not understand why I was diagnosed with cancer. Yes,  I was sick for a few days but how can those symptoms be cancer? I wept. But I had to summon courage and start preparing for my death. I sold some of my properties and took some to the orphanage.

I was dying slowly. I wish I was never told I had this terminal illness that has made me become a shadow of myself. I wrote a bucket list and swore to carry out everything written inside. My best friend never left me, she will always say to me, you will not die but I never took any of her words to heart because I knew I was going to die eventually but I love her regardless and knowing I was going to live her soon left me shattered. 

My eyes were growing dim and my lips became dry,  The fear of the unknown has eaten deep into me. I began to emaciate. It seemed the diagnosis weighed me down more than the sickness itself.

I lamented and cried. I said to my best friend, I have plans, I listed all I wanted to achieve in life but this sickness has stolen them all away. Of cause, she also cried and continued encouraging me that I will not die. I shouted, scattering my whole room (of cause, that was acceptable). Anyone in my shoes will react the same way or even worse knowing they had only four months to live. My best friend continued calming me down.

I was scheduled for a chemotherapy section the following week. It began to dawn on me that I had cancer. I began to prepare. I had all sorts of rhetorical questions running through my mind, what if the chemotherapy doesn't work out? What if I die during the section? I was so scared but I had to muster courage and face my fears.

The next day, I received a call from the hospital and they demanded I come. Of cause, I dressed up the next day and went to the hospital. Immediately stepped into the doctor's office and sat down, the doctor said to me “The results were misplaced, we are sorry and we will take full responsibility for our actions”

I didn’t understand at first but what matters is that those results were not mine. Suddenly, I felt so light, it was as if a heavy burden was lifted off me. At first, I felt like suing the hospital but on a second thought, I knew it was going to be a long process. All I said to the doctor was, be more careful next time, being aware of a sickness kills faster than the sickness itself.