By Chloe Clark
“Lucy, you’re going to be all right,” I said. I liked this part of my job best. The moment of relief that crosses a patient’s face. She had a scare. Cancer. We caught it early. We took care of it. Now a couple of months of treatment and she’d be fine.
My wife was seven months pregnant, and she stopped being emotional around month five. I’d tell her about my day and nothing moved her anymore. It was a relief to come to work and see emotions flood across people’s faces.
“But, how long will I live?” she asked. She was forty two years old, and her father died years ago of the same thing. I’ve never been seriously ill and I wondered what it’s like. I’ve never thought about that before. All those patients, and I never really thought about what it’s like to be like them. To really be that scared.
“Well, no one lives forever, but I think that you’ll live a very long time.” I smiled at her.