Whiskey

I park my car in the hospital's parking lot and pull the key out of the ignition. Still holding the steering wheel, I let out a deep breath and pray to whatever force they call God, that I can get back to playing football after this appointment. The muscle pain was killing me and I'm not this used to muscle pulls, I like to believe I'm a pretty strong guy for a 19 year old. I open the door and walk to the receptionist, informing him about my appointment.

"Cole Bailey?" An assistant of the doctor announces with a writing board in her hand, attached to a sheet of paper. I raise my hand up to bring her attention to my beautiful face and smirk at her. She doesn't look like a girl who'd be up for a make-out session but she might come for a coffee or two.

She rolls her eyes at my amazing try to woo her. "You're next," she disinterestedly states and goes back inside the doctor's room. It takes me a minute to realize she meant next to enter the doctor's room and not her next date. I sigh and walk inside with my file containing my test results and x-rays under my arm.

I hand over my files to the assistant, and sit down on the black plastic chair in front of the doctor. "Cole! How are you today?" Dr. Bhat cheerfully asks.

"Yeah, just the same," I reply with a yawn.

While he is busy having a look at my test results and x-rays I wink at the assistant and notice the name tag on her coat, "Ashley". I don't really go out with girls with names that begin with an A so I turn my attention back to Dr. Bhat.

His expression now looks serious and not something like the cheerful man who greeted me at the beginning. "Okay, so let me put this straight, Cole," he begins. "As a doctor, I don't beat around the bush and sugarcoat my words, it's important to let my patients know the truth. So, you have been diagnosed with Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis or ALS, which is a group of rare neurological diseases that mainly involve the nerve cells, that is, the neurons, " he says all in just two breaths.

"What rosis?" I ask, the words used too complicated for my understanding.

"Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis," he repeats, this time slower for me to grasp it. "Basically, the upper motor neurons and the lower motor neurons degenerate or die, and stop sending messages to the muscles. Unable to function, the muscles gradually weaken, start to twitch and waste away. Eventually, the brain loses its ability to initiate and control voluntary movements. This, in doctor terms is ALS for you," he finishes explaining.

I look at him with a blank expression unable to comprehend what he's saying.

"We performed an electromyography and that's how we're sure about this," he continues with the information. "Unfortunately, as of now there is no cure to this disease and the life I can guarantee you'll live is somewhere around a year and a half," he says, completely unaffected, not even realizing that he's telling me my expiry date.

"You're kidding right? You're not just telling me I have a year left to live this way!" I say completely expecting him to start laughing and tell me that I had just another muscle pull and it's not a symptom of this disease with a long ass name.

"I wish I was Cole. I'm really very sorry about this. I am. The only advice I could give you right now is make the most of what you have left. That's all I can say to my MND patients. But on a positive note, let me tell you, this is an extremely common motor neuron disease. And there's a high chance you could get better. I would ask you to meet the health counsellor once this appointment of ours is over. I need to speak to your father regarding the treatment, when can I meet him?" He asks totally calmly, still not realizing that I am dying. Literally dying.

"Next week. He's in Denmark for a business trip right now," I mumble looking at the report Dr.Bhat is printing for me.

"Okay, that's great. Call up my work phone and Ashley will help you book an appointment for next week. I'll need you to be there along with him for a more detailed explanation," he says signing at the bottom of the now printed report. "Also, Cole, I know I sound as if I don't care and I'm putting this across this bluntly, but that's the only possible way I could do this. There's a new drug for this particular disease and I'd like to discuss with your father about it. We could try it on you. Don't lose hope. You know that right?" He asks looking at me now, and I can see that he isn't heartless, it's just his job to be normal with death.

"Yeah. I know. Thanks," I force a smile and take the report from him. I leave the room with my mind not accepting what I just heard and my heart racing. "You have to meet the health counsellor on the third flo-" Alisha or whatever her name is, speaks as I ignore her and keep walking down the hallway and get into the lift.

As the lift opens in the parking lot I rush to my car and get inside, throwing the envelope with the report on the passenger seat and start the car. I begin driving and keep on driving until I'm in a lane I've never seen before. The part of the town I've never been to, because of which I don't recognize a person and no person recognizes me.

As I'm driving my vision blurs, my eyes fill with water. I hit the steering wheel in frustration and pull over at the side of the road to cry first and then drive. Better die a year later than die today. It was too difficult to hold back my tears until I reached home.

As I'm busy howling over the news of my "to come" death, my face covered in snot and tears, and my hair falling on my forehead, I hear a knock on my window. I turn to see a girl with the fakest smile on the planet looking at me, batting her eyelashes. She's wearing an apron with a big brown blotch right on top of it, a beautiful apron ruined.