The Last Wish

I’m not supposed to get attached.

It’s the first rule of being a doctor, right?

Don’t get attached to your patients.

But it’s hard not to when you’re the one who has to give them the bad news.

Mark Johnson is only twenty-five years old when he’s diagnosed with a rare and terminal cancer.

A tumor that destroys his life.

He spends the next four years traveling the world, spending his last days doing everything he can—except falling in love.

And he’s not planning on that changing.

Only, things don’t always go the way we think they will.

As soon as I walk into the hospital, I know it’s going to be one of those days.

The kind where everything goes wrong, and you just want to crawl into bed and forget it ever happened.

The fluorescent lights buzz overhead as I make my way down the sterile hallway, the scent of antiseptic thick in the air.

I clutch Mark Johnson's file tightly, the weight of it almost unbearable.

His prognosis is grim, and I can feel the knot in my stomach tightening with each step.

I pause outside his room, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open.

Mark is sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes scanning a travel magazine.

He looks up as I enter, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

"Dr. Carter," he says, his voice steady but tinged with an underlying sadness.

"Mark," I reply, trying to match his composure. "How are you feeling today?"

He shrugs, setting the magazine aside. "As good as can be expected, I guess."

I pull up a chair and sit down across from him, opening his file and glancing at the notes one last time.

"Mark, we need to talk about your latest test results," I begin, my voice as calm as I can manage.

His expression hardens slightly, but he nods for me to continue.

"The tumor has grown," I say softly. "It's now affecting more of your vital organs."

He takes a deep breath, his face pale but determined. "What does that mean for me?"

Before I can answer, Sarah Johnson steps into the room, her eyes red and filled with tears.

She stands beside Mark, her hand gripping his shoulder tightly.

"It means we have to discuss your treatment options," I explain, my voice cracking slightly despite my efforts to stay composed.

Sarah's gaze shifts to me, her eyes blazing with anger. "Why didn't you catch this sooner?" she demands.

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of her blame. "We've been monitoring it closely," I say. "But this type of cancer is aggressive and unpredictable."

Mark reaches out and takes Sarah's hand, squeezing it gently. "It's not Dr. Carter's fault," he says quietly. "We knew this was a possibility."

Sarah's shoulders slump slightly, but she doesn't let go of her anger completely. "So what now?" she asks, her voice trembling.

I take a deep breath and outline the options: more aggressive chemotherapy, experimental treatments, palliative care.

Each word feels like a dagger in my heart as I see the hope drain from their faces.

"We'll fight this," Mark says firmly. "Whatever it takes."

I nod, admiring his strength even as my own resolve wavers. "We'll do everything we can," I promise.

Sarah's glare softens just a fraction as she looks at Mark. "We'll get through this together," she whispers.

Mark thanks me with a nod, his unwavering strength both inspiring and heartbreaking.

I stand up to leave, feeling the weight of their pain pressing down on me.

As I reach for the door handle, an alarm blares through the hallway—a code blue in room 312.

My heart skips a beat as I turn back to Mark and Sarah. "Stay here," I instruct them before rushing out of the room.

The hospital staff is already converging on room 312 when I arrive.

Inside, chaos reigns as nurses and doctors work frantically to save a patient whose heart has stopped beating.