Haven't we met before? (On Galatea only)

Seven years ago

ALEX

I’m making my way down the long hallway toward the elevator that’ll take me to my ward. My gaze naturally drifts to the rain-soaked windows. I long for sunlight to flood the corridor, but it’s already 10:30 p.m. The darkness outside mirrors my current mood, I realize.

Tomorrow, right after my night shift, I have a meeting with my oncologist. The sword of Damocles has been hanging over my head for more than a year now, and although my doctor is quite sure that the tumour was encapsulated when she removed it from my breast, I am still afraid that she may be wrong. My anxiety is so intense that all I can do is hope she hasn’t found any new cancerous growths.

Thankfully, the elevator is empty, giving me a chance to adjust the headscarf I’ve got wrapped around my head. Even though my hair is starting to grow back, I’m still self-conscious about my frizzy hair, especially when paired with the swollen face the medication has given me.

I sigh as I catch my reflection in the stainless steel wall. I was never a knockout, but now I feel downright hideous. My face is puffy, and not even a thick layer of makeup can’t hide the bags under my eyes or the poor condition of my skin.

Ding.

The elevator has arrived at my floor. The doors slide open slowly and I step into the ward. It’s eerily quiet, but then I hear the distant chatter of my colleagues, probably wrapping up their last round and grabbing a final cup of tea.

As I approach the nursing station, a strange smell hits me. I recognize the usual hospital odors, but this one is all too familiar and it stirs up anger within me. How dare they?

I march over to the room where the smell is coming from and fling the door open with so much force that it crashes into the wall.

A massive man is leaning against the windowsill, looking at me in surprise as he takes a puff from his cigarette.

Not only am I momentarily taken aback by the fact that someone has so little regard for hospital rules, but his appearance makes me stop in my tracks. The man sitting at the window is tall and broad, his pale blue eyes and wild mop of dark blonde hair, which is starting to turn grey, make him look fierce, and his half-length grey beard completes the biker image.

“Can I help you?” His voice is deep and confused, his eyes scanning me from head to toe.

The sound of his voice pulls me right out of my train of thought.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Who in their right mind lights up a cigarette in a hospital?” I snap.

I’m well aware that the man towers over me, but I don’t care. I stride over to him, snatch the cigarette from his hand, and extinguish it under the tap in the sink.

I whirl around to face him, my expression furious. “If you light up one of those cancer sticks in this ward again, I’ll call security and have you thrown out. Do you understand me?”

The shock on the man’s face gradually morphs into anger.

He slowly rises to his feet and my heart skips a beat as I watch him stand. He’s enormous! But I don’t back down and keep my eyes locked on the giant. He may be big and covered in tattoos, but that doesn’t give him the right to disregard the rules, especially in this ward. There are people in various stages of cancer, some of whom may not even make it to the end of the week, so I don’t care how big he is, he has to follow the rules like everyone else.

“Who the hell do you think you are? I’m not one of those docile patients you’re used to dealing with!” His voice rises, but instead of intimidating me, it only fuels my anger.

“If I want to smoke a cigarette, I fucking will! It’s not like it’s going to make me any sicker than I already am. So have the guts to take my cigarette away from me one more time and..”

By now, I’m seething with rage and I lean in closer to him.

“Or what?” I hiss.

Our noses almost touch as he bends forward. “Don’t think I can’t stand up to a woman, lady. You have no idea what it’s like when your body betrays you. You just prance around here in your little white uniform, pretending to understand and telling us how terrible you feel for us. But you have no idea, lady! No fucking idea what it’s like to have this fucking disease!” He spits out the words and although there is a bright fire in his eyes, I also see a hint of terror.

With a hand that’s shaking with both fear and anger, I reach up and pull off my headscarf, with a wild gesture.

His eyes widen at the sight of my short hair and he pulls back.

“Next time, think before you make such an incredibly ignorant comment.” My eyes start to sting and with a rough shove, I push past the giant and head for the door. I turn back to face him one last time. “But I mean it. If you light up a cigarette in this hospital again, I’ll make sure you get kicked out.” I storm out, nearly colliding with my colleagues Chantal and Kim, who are huddled around the corner of the room.

I want to say something, but a lump forms in my throat and I quickly head for the changing room. On the way there, I feel a tear slide down my cheek. Damn it! Why am I such an emotional wreck?

As I’m stuffing my bag into my locker, I hear the door open behind me.

“Are you okay?” Chantal has entered the changing room and although I know she means well, I don’t feel like talking. So I keep my back to her, pretending to rummage through my bag.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just got angry because that jerk lit up a cigarette when he knows damn well it’s not allowed here. I just can’t stand people who think the rules don’t apply to them.” I glance down and notice my hands are still shaking, momentarily distracting me from Chantal’s presence. Then I feel a hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You’re getting your results tomorrow, aren’t you?”

And with those concerned words, the dam breaks.