The white of the ER room blinded me momentarily. As the doctor came in I smelled the latex of his gloves.My name is Jonothan Riloth.I came to the ER to see why I’ve been having these stomach pains. He came in and didn't give me any good news, “Jonothan there appears to be something wrong with you,” the doctor continued “there appears to be a three centimeter tumor in you stomach.” He sounded like he was annoyed and not happy to be here.

“What does that mean?” I ask nervously, I knew it wasn't good but I still needed to know and I knew I was about to find out, and i'm not so sure I wanted to hear the answer I am about to receive. He doesn't seem like the most comforting bad news doctor ever.

“Well, this means that you have a collection of cells taking over part of your stomach, think of it like a small rock in the pit of your stomach,” that is not the news I wanted to hear. “But,” the doctor continues, “their is a way to get rid of the tumor,”

“Really! How?” I exclaimed, “What do I have to do?”

“You will have to undergo surgery,”the doctor continues reluctantly, “because you have no insurance, it will cost a lot of money.”

“Well how much money?” I ask

“You should not be worried with the money, the tumor may have cancer inside of it and if it does it will give you cancer,” the doctor adds. Then everything goes dark.
.    .    .
I awake in a hospital bed hearing the wheels squeak across the ground and the bed press against my back, along with the sounds of concerned people. I awake and ask “What happened?”

“You passed out,” the doctor explained, “we just got another patient in that got caught in a roller coaster accident, but I digress, how do you feel?”

“I feel fine, just a little dizzy,” I say sluggishly. “So about this tumor, do I have to do the surgery soon?”

“Yes,” the doctor says reluctantly “It will have to happen now if you don't want cancer!”

.    .    .

“Removing the tumor,” the doctor says, not very happy right at this moment and he also sounds board, “there appears to be no signs of cancer,” he explains to him and the doctors around him. “Let's stitch him up and send him on his way before he wakes up from the laughing gas wears off,” Now he sounds a little bit better.
2 HOURS LATER

“Hello? Mr. Riloth? Hello!” the doctor calls then shouts. His shouting startles me out of my sleepy trance.
“Yeah, what is it?” I ask as casual as I possibly can be. “Why does my stomach hurt so much? Did the surgery go… as planned? What are the lines in my stomach?”

“Many questions and a few I can answer but not right now, right now you need to go home and recover,” the doctor explains, “You don't have cancer and come back in a month to check in and we will see how you are doing, is that alright with you?”

1 MONTH LATER

“how do I look? Am I good to go?” I ask,

“Well you seem to be fine, and how is the pain?” the doctor asks, he seems to be more happy today but only a little bit more.

“I feel good, it only hurts when I pick up something way too heavy,” I explain.

“Well don't strain yourself and you shall be fine,” the doctor explains. Thank all that is good because I thought I would be having pain forever. This is my story of surviving the tumor.