Time Is Running Out

I followed the nurse down the hall, each step feeling heavier than the last. My palms were damp, and no matter how many times I rubbed them against my jeans, the sweat kept coming back.

The nurse stopped in front of a closed door with a little brass plaque that read Dr. Sean and gave me an apologetic look before she knocked gently.

"Come in," came a low voice from inside

She pushed the door open and gestured for me to enter.

"He's waiting for you."

I swallowed, nodded, and stepped inside.

Inside the doctor's office

The office was tidy but somehow still felt claustrophobic. Shelves lined the walls, stuffed with medical charts. A fake potted plant drooped in the corner.

The doctor…Dr Sean- a man in his late forties, with deep lines around his eyes and grey stripes on his hair, was sitting behind the desk, scrolling through something on his computer screen.