600 Days Of Affection

"Life is like an endless void, you don't know the results of the decision you made. You cannot change, the past. Life is unfair it's full of suffering, problems, and despair."

"Does the living live, if they're just existing in this world?"

"Well, the answer is a..."

All of this begins at the hospital, all of the words that I've heard that I cannot forget. Words that completely make me unstable and crazy.

December 6, 2003, is the day that I will forget.

"You have brain cancer, stage 3." the doctor said to me."

"Sta...g-e doc...?" I stutteringly said.

"Yes, but don't worry you're in our care" the doctor reassured.

"Do I have a chance to be cured?" I ask the doctor with fear.

"For now, we still don't know, we will still run a few tests to examine your condition" the doctor answered

"Do you want to have an operation, to remove the tumors?" the doctor offers me.

"Yes, I want it, please!" I answer.

In the beginning, that's what I believe. I believe that I will recover. But suddenly I was in despair.

December 12, 2003

I received a message that would destroy my hopes of living...

"Mr. William.

We'd like to inform you that your condition has gotten worse than before, and we can't continue the surgery because it's too risky. The chances of success are now 20/80. We strongly suggest that you stop the operation and consider other options.

Please come in for a consultation so we can discuss your treatment plan moving forward. We're here to support you every step of the way.

Best regards,

[Doctor. Riya]"

When I received this message, it crushed my heart into pieces.

"It looks like destiny is playing with me."

"The operation is the only hope I know, but why!? I'm completely lost. Do I deserve all of this?"

A lot of questions came to my mind. All this is repeated in my mind.

"What will happen to me now? How much time did I have left? Was there any point in fighting anymore?"

I can't imagine what will happen to me in the future. It is full of uncertainty.

"I don't want to die."

I quickly open my laptop and search for "Brain cancer treatment, out of desperation.

There are several things listed, but other than the surgery, chemotherapy is also suggested.

I sat on my desk and shakily reached for the phone. My hands trembled slightly as I dialed the hospital's number. I took a deep breath.

After what seemed like an eternity, a voice answered on the other end.

"Good afternoon, this is the oncology department. How may I assist you?" The voice was warm and professional, yet Mr. William couldn't shake the knot of anxiety.

"Um, yes, hi," he began, his voice faltering slightly.

"I need to book an appointment for chemotherapy."

There was a brief pause on the other end as the receptionist processed his request. "Of course, sir. Can I have your name and date of birth, please?"

"William Cask, April 9, 1981"

As I provided the necessary information, with a shaky hand, I reached for the electric razor sitting on my dresser.

Taking a deep breath, I switched it on and brought it to my head, the buzzing was the only sound filling the room.

As the first strand of hair fell from his scalp, Mr. William of annoyance and sadness in his face and eyes, his brown hair gradually falling. Finally, the last remnants of hair are gone, leaving Mr. William's scalp smooth and bare. He stares at his reflection, a mix of emotions can be seen in his eyes.

"I can't believe it's all gone."

My long brown hair was the only thing that made me feel handsome and now it's gone. I spent three long years growing it out, only to have it chopped off in an instant.

"What's the point of even trying anymore?"

Three days later...

I'm now driving to go to the hospital to do chemotherapy. As I stepped into the hospital, I walked through the plain and clean hallways, and a strong sense of unease settled in my stomach, making it hard for me to shake off my doubts and fears.

The closer I got to my destination, the heavier the feeling became, almost suffocating. I tried to concentrate on why I was there, but my emotions made it difficult for me to focus on anything else.

As I checked in at the reception desk, the nurse greeted me with a warm smile, her kindness was a stark contrast to the environment of the hospital.

I offered a weak smile in return, my nerves palpable beneath the facade of composure.

A kind nurse led me to my room in the hospital.

As I lay down waiting for the treatment to begin, I couldn't stop thinking about my past life. Before, my days were filled with work, family, and friends. But now, my days are all about visiting doctors, having treatments, and watching time pass by. Every moment feels like it's slipping away, like tiny grains of sand. It's almost as if my old life belonged to another world entirely.

The bed In the room was not very comfortable and the sheets were thin, which didn't help me feel warm in the chilly room. The sound of medical machines filled the air and reminded me that I was in the hospital.

I started the chemotherapy treatment, which made me feel sick, tired, and hungry. I knew it wouldn't be easy, and there would be many challenges along the way that I couldn't do anything about.

"Chemotherapy is a really tough process. The doctors inject strong medicine into my body that makes me feel extremely sick.

When does this end?"

"The medicine is so strong that it makes my skin look very pale. I look like a vampire but without a hair. Haha"

The doctor asked me to see him again in 3 days after I received chemotherapy. I am feeling hungry now.