I'm reading the paperwork on my desk. Test results have come back from the lab, and a patient of mine is going to die. From what I can tell, they have less than three months left of living before their organs will begin to shut down one by one and their body will simply fail.
I sigh and place my head in my hands. I hate being the one to give this news. It rips my heart out every time I have to do it. I feel myself die a little as the words fall from my lips and I see the shine of hope fade from my patient and their families eyes. I try to be kind, I rehearse what I am going to say, but in that moment, all the practice in the world doesn't help.
The door to my office flies open and you storm through, slamming the offending piece of wall back into its proper place. You throw yourself onto my couch bitching about something or another. You haven't even noticed the sadness that leaks from my pores into the room, surrounding my body like a fog.
I watch your wild hand gestures and listen to the rise and fall of the pitch of your voice. I sit silent, hypnotized by you. Your eyes that are so blindingly blue, it makes you hard to look directly at. Your permanently mussed dark hair makes me want to straighten it, and I think to myself that you forgot to shave.
You've stopped talking, because you finally have noticed me. Your eyebrows are raised and a questioning look spreads across your face. "Wilson, have you been listening?!" You bark. Like you have to ask. I always listen. I hang on every word you utter. "Uh huh." I answer stupidly. It is enough for you though, and you lean back against the couch again, continuing.
I've rehearsed this speech many times too. The one where I tell you everything. The one where I explain that the reason my wives haven't worked out was because they weren't you. The one where I tell you that I asked Cuddy for the office next to yours. The one were I berate you for never noticing.
"Of course. That's it." You say quietly, getting up. "Thanks Wilson!." you shout from the hallway and you are already gone, the door closes softly. My head returns to its place in my hands and the words that I need to say swirl endlessly in my mind. Words of bad news, words of loss, words of sadness and words of apologies.
Who knows when I will be brave enough to say them.