Author Note's: This is my own POV-fiction on Spinner's pre and post surgery. The fiction is based on the Death or Glory episodes dealing with Spinner's cancer. It's a short oneshot. Italics are for thoughts and people speaking. Thanks for reading.
Surgery. Never thought it would come down to this. My manhood or my life. As I'm being wheeled to the surgery room all I can wonder is what the outcome will be like. How do I live with this burden that was cast upon me? What did I do to ever to deserve this? All I really want to know is why. Why me? All I want is an answer.
"Everything is going to be okay, Gavin. You fight with all you got. I'll be waiting when you come out."
My mother holds my hand firmly until the nurses tell her she can't come any farther from the operating room. I try to take in my mother's words as a sign of encouragement and strength, but I have my doubts. All I can think about is my own father with cancer, him battling every day with chemo, baldness, weakness, anger, and his last words to his family.
Now the doctor enters. I'm glancing around me fearing I may not come out this alive.
"Now, Gavin, we're about to put you to sleep. You won't feel a thing through the surgery. I've done this perceiver before and all of my patients had a full recovery."
I look up at him with a blank stare. Not a good time for hero worship, doc. What if I'm one of the unlucky ones? He looks down at me with those reassuring eyes knowing I will and it's nothing to be scared of. It's all in his hands now. I give him a slight nod as he turns to the nurse saying it's time.
"Gavin I'm going to need for you to breathe deeply for me."
With each breath I take -- my vision becomes blurry, my hearing becomes impaired, and now I'm motionless. Unconscious sleep…
"God, I trust in you to help me pull through this. Bless me Father, for I have sinned in the past is to give me life once I awake. Please let me live another day so I can fight this battle you brought upon me. You chose me for a reason. And now it is up to me conquer my worst nightmare ever and turn it into a fight – not using my fists – but the spirit within me to beat this thing they call cancer. This will prove whether I'm a man or not. The challenge you give me is the challenge I'm proud to take, Lord."
-------
I begin moving. Am I dead yet? I feel a soft and familiar touch on my shoulder. I turn to see it's my mother. I take a short breath, with a tear trapped at the corner of my eyelid. My prayers were answered. I turn to my mother slowly uncertain to where 'most of me' had been taken away too.
"Did they keep it?"
"No they gave you a doggie bag."
I lift up a little taking a peek at the cup wrapped in a plastic bag. I let that lone tear finally follow as I lay back down. It's going to be a bumpy road. But it's going to be okay. My victory to glory has just begun.
Feedback?