442. The Call

Hospital, regaining sight of right eye

They do important tests on you, CT, MRI, with or without contrast... and so on, then they give you about ten days for the results ... Unless they don’t call you first...

You know full well that if there is something that cannot wait, something from which there is no escape, so as not to mention the dreaded word "cancer", they call you the day after- yes, this you know.

The next day, early in the morning, there you are lying in bed, trying to decide whether to put out a foot or not, and then you get a chilly sensation when you remember that today is the "day after" and therefore decide to stay well under the covers for a while longer, quite relieved that the phone remains silent.

The clock strikes eight, then another half hour goes by, and then you hear it, that damn ringing, you hear it. You get up without the slightest reflection, as if you were a robot and pick up the receiver, though you know well it isn’t so, nevertheless hoping with all your might, it is a friendly voice. Ah yes, the friendly voice is there, but you don’t recognise it, it is that of a stranger and when you hear the word "hospital", the blood inside you, freezes

.

"We want to see you today at 14.30, can you come?"

"Sure." You respond adding a whispered "thank you!" Well mechanised.

You put the phone down with great detachment, and after a moment or two, you burst into tears, feeling totally abandoned by God.

So as not to fall into a state of absolute helplessness, you call a friend, maybe someone with broad shoulders and between one tear and another you say, the call, the call came!"

From the other end of the line you hear them ask a simple: "What did they say?". You, however, do not feel like explaining and merely grant a plain: "They called me!"

Then you hear them say, "I will pray for you." And you whisper a heartfelt "Thank you." And as you put down the phone, somehow feel you hate God, a little less.