Into the Blinding Light

The waiting room near the Intensive Care Unit smelled of bleach and decay. It was the sort of smell that hid itself away inside nasal cavities for hours, burning itself into memory, so that every person who had ever smelled it could recall it clear as day.

Aiden paced the minutes away while Ethan fruitlessly asked the desk workers for updates that they couldn’t give. Televisions played to themselves, projecting images from a home shopping channel that was currently selling kitchen cutlery sets.

Many lifetimes passed before the doors to the forbidden hallway opened and a heavy-set pediatrician with bagged eyes and five o’clock shadow approached them. He went to the same small church as the boys. They knew him. He stoically said their names in a quiet tone as he shook their hands. There was a pause as he prepared to speak. At the last moment, he changed his mind then simply motioned them through the door to the hall.

Halogen lights stained the spaces around them in garish, sterile white. Faded prints of landscape paintings lined their path. The smell of cleaner followed them. An elderly man coughed alone in one room they passed. In another room, a mother and son sat watching a football game with a middle-aged man. No one spoke loudly, save for the nurses dutifully walking their lanes. Soon they reached Room 126. The doctor opened the door for them and they saw Sarah.

She was connected to an IV drip for fluids, still in an examination gown, now with two bruises on her face.

“Hey!” Aiden gently whispered as he hugged her.

“You gave us a scare,” said Ethan.

“Sorry,” she replied.

The doctor somberly watched them from the corner.

“Boys, we had to do a CT scan. Don’t worry about pricing, the hospital will cover it,” said the doctor.

“CT scan? Why?” asked Ethan, who stopped moving and faced the doctor.

“We also did blood work and a few other precautionary tests. They’re standard when a situation like this occurs.”

As the pediatrician spoke, another doctor entered the room. He was a tall man, in his early forties, also tired, also somber. The boys looked to him.

The pediatrician spoke up.

“Boys, this is Dr. Pharon. Sarah has already met him. We needed him to analyze the results.”

Aiden was unsettled by their posture and tone.

“What kind of doctor are you?” he asked Pharon.

Pharon paused for a microsecond, his glance darting to the pediatrician.

“I’m an oncologist,” he replied.

“What? What’s going on?” asked Ethan in a frightened tone.

“Aiden what’s going on?” Sarah asked weakly.

“Oncologist?” repeated Aiden.

Both of the doctors nodded. Pharon fully entered the room and closed the door behind him. Once the door shut, he set a manila folder onto the counter near the sink and crossed his hands in front of his waist.

“Boys, Sarah, I’m sorry to tell you this, but we believe Sarah has what is called Acute Myelogenous Leukemia...”

“What?!” asked both boys at once.

Sarah didn’t process the diagnoses. As she struggled to understand, Aiden felt like he was being pulled through the floor and into the darkness below. Ethan’s heart began to race instantly, sending shockwaves of adrenaline and terror into his veins.

“What did he say?” Sarah asked.

“No, that can’t be right,” said Ethan.

“What did he say?” she asked again.

“No, she can’t,” murmured Aiden.

“I’m sorry,” replied Pharon.

“What did he say?” she asked once more.

“Jesus Christ no you’ve got to be wrong,” said Aiden, his throat catching.

“There’s got to be more tests you can run to make sure,” said Ethan, his voice raising.

“Aiden!” cried Sarah.

Finally they quieted and looked to Sarah, who was trembling in her bed.

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked softly.

Pharon gathered himself and moved towards her. He smiled a warm, calming smile for a moment then sat on the edge of the bed and faced her.

“I’m afraid you are sick, Sarah. You have Leukemia. But the good new is it’s treatable and”-

“Stop!” Aiden shouted without restraint.

The others paused and looked to him. Only then did Aiden realize he’d spoken out loud.

“Can we talk outside for a moment?” he asked.

“What?” pleaded Sarah. She looked to her brother.

“Aiden what’s going on?”

He didn’t respond, but she did catch his eyes glistening with stray tears as he stood and turned his back to her. The four of them left the room, leaving Sarah alone as her breathing sped and became less stable. Her fingers absentmindedly touched the IV cable running from her opposite hand. Pale white rays of sunlight cut through the partially opened blinds. Everything felt cold.