I look at the time and it reads 8:16 a.m and I am about to be late. I put on my favourite t-shirt of Winnie the pooh over my sports bra and put my sweatpants, they are the only pants I wear. Jeans feel rough on my delicate skin.

“Zandi.” I can hear the irritation from her voice which is understandable she woke me up early, but I chose to sleep in because I was too tired from watching movies all night and the only time, I was finally able to catch some sleep was when it was 6 a.m, it is fair to say I didn’t sleep at all because what is 1 hour of sleep to be honest. I rush to the kitchen and grab a slice of toast “I’m done.” I say taking a huge bite and placing it back on the plate.

“I have never met someone who is so usually late,”

“Hey.” I say lifting up my shoulders “I’m special.” My mother shakes her head and lets out a small smile. it is amazing how she kept going after my father’s death which was 4 years ago but the gaping hole in my hear has not yet closed.

We arrived at the clinic at 9:10 a little bit late, but better late than never.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” My mother asks as I get out of the car “I’m 17 Ma I don’t need a babysitter.” I blow her a kiss and push the clinics door open, “You are late.” April the receptionist says.

I mean of course coming to the clinic for over 2 years you get to befriend most of the staff and April is one of the sweetest persons I have ever met. “Doctor Stevens is with someone else I guess you will get in after that person.

“No sweat.” I say as I take a seat at the waiting room. I look around before I sit down and there’s barely anyone here except the guy with a magazine sitting at the far end.

“Hi.” I say as I get comfortable on the stainless-steel chair which is not very much comfortable. The guy looks up from his magazine and nods a hello before getting back to reading.

I take out my phone and scroll through my Facebook and it is as boring as it can ever be. I switch it off and lean my head back on the wall and close my eyes.

I can feel the sleep lingering nearby, threatening to come back, I open my eyes not ready to fall asleep and how can I fall asleep at this uncomfortable chair by now I should have gotten used to it but no.

“Zandi.” Doctor Stevens calls out as he pops his head out of the door. Finally, I stand up and walk inside finding him already sitting with my file on his desk. “How are you feeling today? Have you been feeling any kind of nauseous or fatigue.”

“Yeah, but rarely now.”

“You knew that even after the chemotherapy there were chances that the cancer on your breast might come back, right?”

I sit back on the chair and sigh, not again.