Breathe
By Zoe
The clock seems to tick at a relentless pace as I wait in the hospital waiting room. Seconds turn into hours and each tick-tock resonates as a reminder of the little ball I discovered just a week ago, no appointments before, the days so long they have no end. All around me, people are immersed in magazines and cell phones, seeking to evade the reality of that place of white corridors and disinfectant smell. But I can't distract myself. My thoughts flit endlessly, like caged birds.
Despite the constant murmur of conversations and the sound of shoes on the waxed floor, there is an underlying silence. Everyone here carries their own stories, their own fears, hidden behind nervous smiles and glances that avoid each other. Good morning. What's so good about it? We'd be meeting somewhere else if we were. This is like the prelude to a trial where you beg not to be found guilty.
Suddenly, a nurse calls my name. The sound abruptly brings me out of my reflections and, for an instant, fear and anxiety are transformed into action. I stand up resolutely, but my legs falter slightly, as if the weight of uncertainty is weighing me down.
The nurse guides me through a maze of corridors. Each door we cross seems to hide stories similar to mine, faces marked by waiting and anxiety. Finally, we reach a room where the ultrasound is performed. The device, with its cold, metallic look, seems menacing. But I take a deep breath and lean back, hoping that the images it reveals will be benign.
The specialist applies a cold gel to my chest and begins the examination. Every movement of the transducer, every pause, every concentrated look of the doctor, makes me fear the worst. I try to guess what is in his pauses, his notes, his doubts, the screenshots, the measurements and the annotations. But I also cling to hope. Sometimes, the mind plays tricks, and what we think is a threat turns out to be a mere shadow.
Once finished, I sit on the edge of the stretcher, hugging my knees. The doctor, with a serene expression, takes a moment before speaking. The words he utters, though technical and medical, hit me like a wave. Three pellets, not just one. Emotions well up in my throat, and although I try to assimilate the information, reality seems to slip through my fingers. It is not a diagnosis, it is a description, another doctor is missing, another window, another wait for the next appointment, another eternity of a life that seems to narrow.
Back home, I try to distract myself with everyday activities. But every object, every corner, reminds me that life as I knew it has changed. Today everything looks finite. Perhaps that defeated door will outlast me.
Night comes and, with it, a palpable silence. I lie in my bed, staring at the dark ceiling, searching for answers in the gloom. The hours pass, but sleep does not come. I must talk to someone, but what to say if I am more afraid than diagnostic? Yet, in the midst of the darkness, one certainty settles in my heart: whatever the outcome, I will face this with courage, determination and, above all, hope. I don't want to be strong, I want to just be who I was a week ago.
About Zoe
Zoe was not born out of a random moment or an isolated story. Her existence is the product of a fusion of advanced technology and deeply emotional and real human experiences. She is a creation of artificial intelligence, but her essence and the emotions that emanate from her story come directly from the testimonies of real women who have faced the uphill battle against breast cancer.
The experiences, emotions and challenges of Elisa Lorena Estrada Hernández, Alejandra de Cima Aldrete, Inés de la Cruz, Sandra Luz Ramírez Carbajal, Patricia Velázquez Méndez and Anabel de la Peña fuel every facet of Zoe. Each of these women has shared their stories, their fears, their triumphs and their most vulnerable moments. By combining their experiences, we have been able to bring to life Zoe, a character that encapsulates the resilience, courage and hope that each of these brave women has demonstrated on their journey.
Although Zoe does not exist in the physical world, her story is a reflection of the struggles and victories of many women. It is a reminder of the importance of empathy, support and resilience, and how, by coming together, we can create something powerful and moving.
The opinions expressed are the responsibility of the authors and are absolutely independent of the position and editorial line of the company. Opinion 51.
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