We

one

Bad days always start out normal. You wake up, you regret waking up, you drag yourself around your home to collect all of the essential items to seem like you are okay. You eat or drink your breakfast, you get in the car and talk about the trivial things with whomever is behind the wheel. Then you proceed to embark on your eight-hour school day learning all about things you think you'll never need, seeing people you love and loathe, and doing things that make you happy. Then, you get excited because you get called for early dismissal. You know your mom doesn't need to get you this early, but she wants to spend time with you and get you out of the god-awful classroom. Out you go, on your way to your annual physical, very standard, kind of a waste of time. You get your blood drawn, blood pressure checked, it's high, what a surprise, you're a stressed person. They do the rest of the stuff, and you answer some questions, you say what's wrong with you and they tell you're fine. As you're about to go back to your normal day and do your normal things, your doctor pulls mom out of the room. Suddenly normal gets stripped away from the title of your day.

"Emily," Dr. Mitchell began. "We ran some extra tests because your red blood cell count was low. You have acute myeloid leukemia."

I sat there frozen. Did I here her right? Did she just say a form of the "C" word? "I-I'm sorry. Can you please repeat what you just? I don't think I heard you correctly."

My mom stood there, in a trance, shock most likely. That happens when something bad happens. Nothing bad is supposed to happen on good, normal days. Days where you can smile at the stupid jokes that yours make, and you stare at that guy you don't have the balls to tell him that you like him. Days when you feel normal, just a spec of DNA in the universe, and you're okay with it. Bad things can't happen on these days, there as should be rule or some law.

"Emily, you have cancer. It, so far, does not seem very severe, but this cancer progresses rapidly, so you will have to begin treatment very soon. AML is a type of bone and blood cancer, so we have to take extra precautions. We're going to send you to Ross Memorial Hospital, where they are going to run a few more tests to see how we will begin treatment. Did you hear all of that?" Dr. Mitchell spoke very calmly.

"I heard. How bad is it?" I turned to look at my mom and my doctor, hoping for an answer. I need an answer. It's like a drug. It calms me down. It keeps me going. I need an answer.

"Well-" Dr. Mitchell started.

I cut her off. "How. Bad. Is. My. Cancer?" My voice broke when let out the last word.

"It's bad. It is going to get worse before it get's better. Have you been feeling sick lately?"

I answered many more questions until it was the end of my normal day. My mom had been trying to plan out what we are doing, that's what I would normally do, but I couldn't. We got into my mom's twelve-year-old minivan and drove off into the sunset into the hospital parking lot. We walked in and the told us they were going to take me up to get some tests run and put us up into a room in the cancer wing.

"What kind of tests? Also, I don't need to be in this wheelchair. I'm fine, I'm gonna be fine. I don't understand, you don't need to do all this," I rambled off to Nurse Belle, the kind lady taking me off to be tortured.

"Sweetie, I know this is scary, and it sucks, but you've got to just do what they say right now, we'll figure exactly what kind it is and fix you. You're a little broken, we're just gonna fix you. You'll be out of here tomorrow morning, we'll call you back to receive the result in week, and we'll go from there," she said to me in a calming voice, it made me feel like I had just been tucked into bed after a warm glass of milk.

"Thank you for being honest. Thank you," I replied. We entered the exam room, where I proceeded to have even more blood drawn, I passed out, apparently that's a side effect of the whole cancer thing. They wanted to do a biopsy, I didn't, so they did. It hurt like hell, the whole needle in your pelvis thing, but they gave. And they let an intern do it, so I got morphine after.

I was calm, outside. I made fun of things, I got some laughs, other people made me laugh. It was a fucking hurricane inside of me. My dad cam after work, he cried. He never cries. It made me want to cry. My parents didn't tell my brother until his practice was over, he came busting in the doors.

"What the hell, Emily? Why didn't you guys call me until now? Are you okay?" He shouted into the slightly crowded room, with doctors and interns and Nurse Belle, checking on my IV. The staff quickly exited into the hall.

"We're gonna go grab some dinner real quick, we'll be back in little while. Text us if you need anything." My mom told us.

"I'm sorry for yelling. Are you okay?" Axel quietly said.

"I'm gonna be fine, that's what matters. They're only keeping me because an intern bruised me pretty bad and it hurts. I'm fine. You didn't worry. We don't even know how bad it is yet, so it's not speeding down the freeway bad so far, so I told mom to not call everyone immediately. I'm fine," I stated, trying not to meet his eyes.

"Emily," my brother scolded. "It's just me and you. You have to-"

I didn't let him finish before I finally burst into tears. Axel came and sat on the edge of the bad and grabbed my hand.

"Okay, good to know you're not okay. Are you gonna go to school tomorrow?" He asked.

"Yeah. With what they described the treatment might look like, I'm gonna miss a lot soon. It won't start until June, so I can finish testing and not worry. I really just want to get home. Just please, don't tell anyone," I pleaded.

"I won't," He replied.

Once my parents got back, they deemed me clear for discharge, I collected all my things and went on with my good day. 

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