he Greatest Showman #748 - Cancer Me

"Are you Dr. McKay?" Adam asked, surprised, as he looked at Catherine, who seemed to be caught off guard, standing awkwardly in a small office. The corners of his mouth twitched upward into a slight smile.

"Uh, yes, I am." Catherine, clearly thrown off, quickly packed away her lunch and said, "Please, have a seat. Make yourself comfortable." Adam sat down on the sofa. A sudden silence fell between them, awkward and palpable. After a beat, Catherine finally came to her senses. "Oh, are you Adam?"

"Yes," Adam replied, looking at her, noting her youthful energy and the hint of college-student naivety. With a half-joking tone, he added, "I thought you'd be a 65-year-old woman wearing a dull gray sweater, you know, the kind of stereotype people have about psychiatrists."

Catherine hesitated, her fingers nervously fidgeting. "Did someone say that to me?" She missed Adam's attempt at humor entirely.

"No, no," Adam quickly corrected, "I was just... well, joking." He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, if it's okay, can I ask how old you are?"

Catherine paused for a moment, then answered without hesitation, "Twenty-four."

"Twenty-four? Wow." Adam was taken aback. "So you're like the female version of Doogie Howser?"

"Who?" Catherine was confused.

"Doogie Howser? The genius little doctor?" Adam asked, surprised at her lack of recognition.

Catherine thought for a moment. "Does he work here?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

Adam blinked, realizing the gap. "No, no, he's from an old TV show," he clarified. "But what I meant was, you're so young to be a doctor!"

Catherine's realization came quickly, and she replied, "Technically, I'm not a doctor yet, I'm still in my doctoral program." Standing up straight, she inadvertently gave the impression of presenting a report, with Adam seated like a professor listening attentively.

"I see," Adam nodded, trying to follow the conversation.

Catherine added, "I'm currently interning at this hospital."

Adam nodded, understanding. "Got it. Have you seen many patients?"

Catherine, a little flustered, laughed awkwardly. "I wouldn't say 'many.' My diagnostic experience is still... uh, developing." She gave an embarrassed shrug, searching for a more appropriate word.

Adam interrupted with a grin, "I'm your first patient, right?"

Catherine, still nervous, laughed nervously and exaggerated her movements. "Ha, no!"

"Second?" Adam prodded.

"No, definitely not."

"Third?"

"..."

With a forced smile, Adam watched Catherine, her nervousness obvious. He nodded, half-jokingly, "Well, looks like I'm your third then. How are the first two doing?"

Catherine put on a professional smile — though not quite convincing, and her guilt was palpable. She spoke in a playful, but somewhat apologetic tone. "That's something I can't really share... patient confidentiality, you know?"

"Right!" Adam said, nodding thoughtfully. "I remember. This is all part of your training, right?"

Catherine nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! It's part of my thesis," she said, her hands moving faster as she talked, unable to control the nervous energy bubbling inside her.

Adam interrupted again, "Are you going to record all of this?"

"Don't worry," Catherine reassured him, "I won't use your real name." Her words were meant to ease his concerns, but Adam's raised eyebrows and pursed lips gave him an air of confusion mixed with helplessness. It was almost comical, making Catherine smile despite herself.

The situation lightened, and Tessa, watching from the sidelines, smiled too. The film had managed to bring a light touch to the heavy subject of cancer. Although she wasn't fond of the topic, the film's approach, especially in showcasing Renly's nerdy, quirky expressions—frowning, pursing his lips, licking them, and tilting his head—was endearing in an unexpected way.

Tessa liked Renly like this.

Meanwhile, Catherine and Adam were stumbling through their "psychotherapy" session, filled with awkward humor. Adam tried his best to stay calm, but Catherine, sticking to the bookish approach, kept applying textbook knowledge, leading to a conversation that felt completely mismatched in rhythm. The whole scene radiated an aura of "awkward chat" that left the audience in fits of laughter.

After Adam's cancer diagnosis, he seemed to slip into an oddly detached state. Life continued as usual, and yet, everything around him began to change. People started treating him differently, offering sympathy and pity, even strangers at work would give him unsolicited hugs, all because of his diagnosis.

It was as if Adam's world was the same, but fundamentally altered.

This sense of isolation was even more pronounced during his chemotherapy sessions. As Rachel, who had grown busier and more distant, escorted him to the hospital, she refused to enter the ward. Instead, she waited outside, only rejoining him after the four-hour treatment.

This marked the stark division between two worlds. The "normal" world Adam once knew, and the new world he was now forced to navigate as someone with cancer. Yet, in the chemotherapy room, Adam found a new sense of belonging. There, he was just Adam—no special treatment, no pity. Cancer was just a topic, "life and death" was a conversation, and "chemotherapy complications" were no longer the terrifying unknown.

He was just a man with a tumor. The other patients introduced themselves easily.

"Alan Lombardo, Stage III lymphoma, nice to meet you."

"Mitch Barnett, metastatic prostate cancer, nice to meet you."

"Adam Lerner, Schwann's neurofibrosarcoma."

"Well, that's a mouthful. The more complicated the name, the worse the condition," they joked.

Despite everything, Adam managed to smile. He even tried cannabis-infused cookies for the first time, which made the world feel a little brighter. But then, the effects wore off. The reality of cancer returned—nausea, hair loss, and the inevitable truth began to set in.

In a quiet moment, Hope's voice broke through his thoughts. "Will he die?" she asked, her voice catching.

Tessa, her tears falling, wiped them away, still smiling through the pain. "It'll be fine, everything will be fine," she reassured her, though the mixed emotions were palpable.

Laughter and tears, joy and sorrow—this mixture of emotions played out continuously, as seen in the humorous moment where Catherine, trying to break Adam's tension, clumsily slapped his arm. Adam responded by calling her a "sea otter." Their interactions were a mix of disgust, disbelief, and humor that had the audience laughing uncontrollably.

The most incredible moment came when Adam decided to shave his head. Tessa couldn't help but curl into her chair, covering her eyes in disbelief. The audience erupted into shocked exclamations as Adam's bald head appeared on screen. Renly had pulled off a major surprise, and the reactions were explosive.

Even reporters who'd been following Renly's career were stunned. How had they missed this? Why hadn't paparazzi caught wind of this moment? It felt like a bizarre twist, and everyone was left wondering if this was why Renly had skipped the Oscars earlier in the year.

Once Adam shaved his head, the scene intensified. The laughter didn't stop. Tessa, still in disbelief, shared a look with Hope, both of them unable to hold back their laughter.

"Bald Renly?" Tessa mused. "But I think he still looks handsome."

Hope nodded solemnly, "I agree. The bald version of him is... strangely charming."

The two girls couldn't stop laughing, but soon, reality returned with a hard punch. Adam's life was about to face a monumental shift.

Kyle had been using Adam's cancer to manipulate women, and Rachel, becoming more distant, was spending less and less time with him. At an art exhibition, Adam saw Rachel flirting with another man, and they kissed. It was a painful moment—raw and full of life's unpredictable twists.