One Hundred

Lenora

Now, on a crossroads between life and death, I was getting prepared for a high-risk surgery. Fear, stark and vivid, knotted inside of me.

There were over six specialists who were on my case, and each time they poked my body, I felt so much pain, and my heart raced in my chest like a horse ready to gallop across the desert.

My stomach roiled with bile; acid churned my intestines. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was an occasional whimper as my throat constricted. My eyes watered from it all.

"Her case is delicate," I heard one of the doctors say. A middle-aged, buxom woman with thinning hair. "It's almost impossible for all organs to shut down at once without any cause. I've never seen anything like this before."

Another doctor, a tall man who seemed more interested in reading a chart than in talking to her, nodded numbly. Hearing that made me shiver uncontrollably under the thin hospital gown.

I was weary with fatigue and watched the third doctor pick a glove and adju