I walked into the hospital waiting room and sat down desperate for some good news about the lump that had been found on my shoulder 1 month prior. As I sat down I could feel the bloodshot eyes of the other ederly patients glaring at me trying to figure out what was wrong with me. The smell of sterylized medical equipment and blood made my stomach feel uneasy and was making the wait almost unbearable. A stretcher was being wheeled past at high speed as the person being cared for clung to thier life, and I could not help but think of the worst for myself. Ostensibly I appeared calm and collected, but inside I had been a mess for the month that this dreadful lump had been on my shoulder. The nervous tapping of the patients feet on the waiting room floor was slowly deteriorating my nerves and a minute more of this torture would certainly be the end of me if this lump wasn't. The flash of a bright white coat caught my eye and a cold hand suddenly rested on my shoulder. I turned around to meet the sympathetic eyes of the doctor, and followed her into the examining room. A frigid bed was waiting for me to sit on in front of a wall filled with medical supplies, and there was a chair for the doctor an arms length away. She pulled up the chair and as she looked up our eyes met, and without any words being spoken I knew my fate. Suddenly the rubbing alcohol and blood had removed their pungent odours from my nose, and the sounds of the heart monitors and children crying had faded into nothingness. All that was left was a blurred outline of the doctors slim figure and a ringing in my ear so clear that it seemed to have chased all other thoughts or memories from my head. I tried to move or at least procure some sort of thought but it was no use, I might as well have been dead.