Disclamier: I own NOTHING!! Except Dr. McKee.
Also this is my first fanfic I have ever written so please tell me what you think about it. Tell me if you don't like it and what I could do to inprove it.
Chapter One: Are You Sure?
"Please have a seat Mr. Gavin," Doctor. McKee said. He sat behind his desk with Tommy Gavin's medical file in his hands. His face held an expression of saddness.
Tommy Gavin, firefighter of the Engine 62 fire department, sat down in one of the two chairs in front of Dr. McKee's desk. He was dressed in dark blue jeans with a white button down long-sleeved shirt, over top was a leather jacket. He wore what could only be described as a world weary expression on his fine features. He had scheduled an appointment with the docter last week because he had been feeling fatigued, out of breath, and a little dizzy lately. Doctor McKee had called him this morning, requesting him to come to his office this afternoon to dicuss Tommy's test results.
Doctor McKee cleared his throat and said, "Mr. Gavin, I requested your presence here this afternoon because what I must tell you would not have been appropriate to tell you over the phone," he stopped.
Tommy gave him an annoyed look and said, "Well? Get on with it Doc." Tommy leaned forward and started at the doctor.
Doctor McKee looked at Tommy uncomfortly, and said, "Mr. Gavin…sigh…you have cancer."
Tommy stared at Dr. McKee blankly for a moment. "What?," he asked breathlessly.
Dr. McKee rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "You have cancer, Mr. Gavin. I'm sorry to have to tell you that."
Tommy, his face pale asked, "Are…Are you sure?" He noticed his hands were trembling, so he clutched the armrests of the chair.
"Yes. I checked the tests results tree times to make one hundred percent sure," Dr. McKee said looking sad. "Your has not gotten to the point where it is so advanced that it can not be treated. Chemothreapy treatments would be the option for treatment."
Tommy put his right hand over his eyes. He sighed and asked, :Can I think about it and get back to you?" he pulled his fingers through his hair, "I need to time to think…I just need to think. I guess I need to get used to the fact that I have cancer."
Dr. McKee nodded. He said, "Yes, of course. You can call me when you are ready to discuss the chemotherapy and we can then schuldule the days you would be receiving it."
Tommy rose from his chair and shook hands with Doctor. McKee. "Thanks, Doc. I'll call you soon." He opened the door to the office and walked down the stairs and out into the street to his truck. He opened his car door and sat down inside and shut the door. Then, Tommy Gavin buried his face in in hands and wept.
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