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Have you ever felt like you were dying but so alive at the same time ?

Like you were drowning, but you were breathing fine ?

It felt like you were being pulled down under water, going deeper by the second, but your lungs didn't burn. Your breathing even.

So you keep going deeper. Thinking you're all good. Thinking you're doing fine.

But then all of a sudden, you ran out of ribs and the pain was blinding your eyes.air and the pressure was crushing your

You tried to swim back up but it was too late.

You're already in too deep.

Nothing can save you now.

Eighty-seven.
Eighty-eight.
Eighty-nine.

Hyerin stared at the white painted walls of the hospital waiting room. She tried to block it by counting the numbers like she always does, but the words kept on repeating itself in her mind. Again and again.

“I'm truly sorry, Mrs. Park.” The doctor said softly to her as if he were approaching an injured animal. “You're diagnosed with Hodgkin's lymphoma.”

That can't be good, Hyerin had thought as she heard the strange name of the disease that soon will be more familiar to her than cold or flu.

“Based on the blood test and the x-ray result, we had our suspicions, but after the biopsy that we've done, it's confirmed. ”

“What is that ?” Hyerin couldn't shake the bad feelings she had in her everytime she looked at the way the doctor looked at her.

He pitied her.

Dr. Soo, as his name tag said, sighed, “It's a lymphatic cancer.”

Oh.

“It's a type of blood cancer that develops in the lymphatic system. The cancer originates from lymphocytes, a specific type of white blood cellㅡ”

Cancer.

Cancer.

Cancer.

Cancer was all she heard, and she heard enough.

The rest of his words seemed to blur as she tried to take in all the information. Hyerin didn't choose Biology in high school for a reason.

As if he could tell that none of his medical explanation was getting through her, he paused.

“I know it's too much to take in at the momentㅡ”

“Am I going to die ?” Her words were a broken whisper, trying not to sound hopeful but failing.

Dr. Soo pressed his lips firmly together, “That's indefinite yet. We still have to run several more test. We have to check whether or not the cancer has spread to other organs. Once we're clear on how severe your condition is, we'll refer you to a hematologist for the next procedures.”

She wanted to ask so many questions but there was a lump in and there was something in her eyes and she tried to blink it back, but it got blurry and suddenly she doesn't see anything.

Hyerin wondered if she was going blind too.

“Mrs. Park, don't stress yourself too much. I know it sounds very scary, but Hodgkin's lymphoma has a very high survival rate, even for patients at stage IV.” She guessed he was trying to comfort her. It did not make her feel better though, she wanted to tell him.

She wanted to tell him she was still scared. And that she was trying not to cry. She wanted to tell him she hadn't cried since she watched a documentary about dogs. And that the last time she watched a documentary, or tv shows in general, was two years ago.

But the doctor looked uncomfortable at her silence, it made her wonder how many times has he broke this kind of life changing news to his patients.

“The test should be made as soon as possible as we want to prevent the cancer from spreading more, or at all.” Dr. Soo said, looking at her carefully. Hyerin wondered if he thought she was going mad.

Thinking back, maybe she was.

“You should bring a family member for your next visit.” The young doctor suggested. “I'll try to schedule your test for tomorrow, is that okay with you ?”

Is that okay with me ? She doesn't know.

“I guess.” She followed his hand as it scribbled some words on the paper in the cursive doctor font she can't understand. She wondered if there were times when he can't read his own handwriting.

“Is it necessary for a family member to be there ?” Say no.

“You might be admitted so it would be best for someone to accompany you. They might remember something you missed or ask questions you forgot when you meet the hematologist.”

Hyerin had nodded, but she figured both of them knew she won't be bringing anyone.

Now, staring at the empty walls, Hyerin tried to remember the earlier normal, tranquil morning. How not a thing has been going out of plan. How she had woke up right at 6, as usual. She had gotten ready and woke Minho up after that, as usual. She had prepared their breakfast and had it together with him, as usual. He said how sorry he was about not being able to accompany her to the hospital, because it's a busy day ahead, as usual.

And as usual, she said she didn't mind, and truthfully, she didn't. They were both busy career people who understood each other's tight schedule.

She was used to doing things on her own, and so did Minho. As long as they could handle it themselves, they wouldn't bother each other with the problem.

And Hyerin could handle almost everything.

Except for this.

A normal trip to the hospital she could handle alone, no matter how much better it would've been if he was there, but this had turned from a one day visit into the start of many more.

She thought she could handle it. Walking out of the doctor's room, she had thought she'll get through this one too. She had in a deep breath, head faced up, eyes fixed to the pristine hallway of the private hospital.

She had gone through worse. Cancer won't bring her down.

But then she had sat down on the cold, built-in metal seats in the middle of the indoor bridge connecting the east and west wings of the hospital, looking at every people as they walked passed her, some rushing to get somewhere, a few was taking slow stride with IV stands following them around, many was in a tired, routine pace, fatigue obvious in every step.

And suddenly Hyerin felt a tug in her chest, an unfamiliar feeling she doesn't want to recognize.

Unconsciously, she grabbed her phone. The photo of Minho sleeping in a sea of white pillows greeted her. The wallpaper had been the same since a few months ago, because she had never found the time to take any pictures of him that peacefully candid anymore, and because she had liked that picture very much. So she never minded.

But now she missed him.

The clock on the screen showed that it's been half an hour since she had sat there, staring into nothing and everything. Absentmindedly, her thumb clicked on the phone icon, opening her call log. The last record was an outgoing call to her office, reminding them about her absence today due to her appointment.

She has to call them again, to let them know about tomorrow, but she doesn't feel like talking to the young intern with the chirpy voice who will most likely be the one who answered it.

The call before that was from Mom, registered at 9:37 pm, last night. Mom had called to ask her if she was getting better and Hyerin