Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter Eighty

Two Days Later…

I let out a long, tired sigh. I’ve been trying to read the same sentence for the last half hour. I can’t focus. I can’t do anything but think about my life’s situation and what it really means in the long run; potentially die from cancer, or never sing again and give up any chances I ever had at pursuing my dream. I’ve always wanted to sing. That’s the only reason I even came back to finish college. The only reason I’ve been busting my ass trying to work so I can pay off my tuition. The only reason I’ve been able to move on with life and keep it relatively together after my parents passed.

Music is my life.

What exactly would I be saving if it meant I couldn’t have it anymore? I’d be a zombie; a walking, talking shell of the person I am now, and I’ve already lost too much as it is. I can’t give this up, too. I just won’t. Physical death would be easier than having to live a life of constant resentment, misery, and regret. I won’t do it.