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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Other · #1901943
Phoenix receives a letter from the nurse practitioner about rare, atypical cells...
Phoenix had not expected anything from the VA, but in his mailbox that day, there was an envelope from them.  It was in rough shape and had been opened and taped back shut with scotch tape.  Phoenix was puzzled by this.  Inside was a letter concerning his prostate exam almost three weeks ago.  "Rare, atypical cells" were found, and he was welcome to call the nurse practitioner's office with questions regarding the letter.  Phoenix was not panicked, but he was a bit worried.  What did that mean - "rare, atypical cells"?  Did that mean cancer?  Pre-cancer?  Did that mean surgery or biopsies or...what did that mean?  He hated how vague the VA could be.  Medical providers should think about that, Phoenix thought, and when Phoenix was a doctor, he was not going to be vague with his patients.  He was going to be honest, straightforward, and informative with them so that they did not have to sit and wonder over a weekend about their entire future when they received a letter with "rare atypical cells" phrases in it on a Saturday in the mail.  Phoenix was more upset with the nature of the notification than he was about the facts of the news itself, since the news itself was a mystery, more or less.

Phoenix thought about the possibilities.  What if it was cancer?  What if he died before he got to be a doctor?  Was he that weak?  No, he was not.  And he had God on his side.  God would take care of him.  God's will would be done regardless of the state of the world, the events that would occur, and the wishes of others.  If that meant dying before he got to be a doctor, Phoenix thought, then so be it.  He knew, though, that God had a mission for him, and that mission could not be stopped.  Phoenix would stop worrying about it until Monday, then he would call the clinic.
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