𝗛𝗘𝗥 » 𝗕𝗧𝗦 𝗙𝗙 (𝗢𝗧𝟳)

CHAPTER 6 » DISTRACTIONS

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I was fucking wrong! Time was against me!

I shouldn't have been left to my own devices. I shouldn't have been left to my thoughts. I shouldn't have been left alone because all I was successful at doing throughout the day was to wallow in my bad thoughts, crying one minute, wiping my tears off the next, I was a complete mess emotionally. Then I decided to add more salt to my open fresh wound when I went on Google, the app some might consider oracle because it always seems to have answer to most questions asked on it.

But the fucking site actually rubbed it on my face that time was on its side and not mine. Because when I tried to calculate how much longer I have to wait for the bone marrow exam result to be out, it stated at the top just right underneath the search box that 'results in 0.9333679 seconds'.

Seriously?

Time was dragging itself so slow for me, probably slower than a snail's pace as each hour felt like a year and when I calculated it, I still had about 12 hours or more to wait. I spent all day trying to distract myself by reading a book on Amazon or watching videos on YouTube but I failed woefully. I also had to fight the massive urge of researching more about my symptoms on Google because I know what that could do to me especially when I wasn't really well in my head and mind.

I didn't want to be in a deeper mess than I already am.

My boyfriends did try to stay in touch but they were very busy which made our interactions minimal and I wasn't going to see them until later tonight. It was already evening, from the window of my room, I could see the sky in an artistic mix of orange and purple plastered on the background grey, a sign it was dusk as the sun was almost set so I started to count down the time to when the lights of my life will walk in through that door.

That fucking white door.

I was pissed at it because it just felt like the only thing I could stare at all day, directing my mixed emotions at, it was the one thing that when it's pushed open by someone, it snaps my attention, raising my hopes high only to be plummeted when I see it's not any of them but the nurse. And whenever the nurses come to check on me, I'll try engaging them out of boredom but I knew they had other duties besides me, I let them go as quick as the idea to chat with them comes and dissipate.

The nerves that has decided to take refuge at my throat mixed with this itchy feeling I've been getting for the past one year (that's one hour in the real world), in this room that I am currently staying, time seems to move differently than the outside world. I've been resisting the urge to scratch myself but it got so bad that I had to and now I have bruises on my forearms which only made me more cranky, my legs are so weak that I couldn't even pace around the room even if I wanted to. The bed was my sanctuary and confinement at the same time.

I'm just an utter mess.

Technology has always been a distraction if the cons of it were checked but now that I needed that blatant distraction, it didn't help me, not one bit. All my thoughts couldn't even be deviated for a complete one minute to other things without going back to my original weary thoughts of what the result of my biopsy will be.

The dread of it filled me up.

And due to that uncertainty, I've had to email two of my professors to explain to them about my current situation. They were the nicer ones as my mood couldn't deal with the ass professors. I will probably go off on them by pouring my distressing pain into words and send it to them. They will be getting the transferred energy of aggression.