The first thing I heard as I slowly awoke was the sound of high-pitched beeping coming from my right-hand side, along with the quiet chattering of people off in the distance. Quickly I realised that I was lying down on what felt like a bed, or a poor imitation of one at least based on the stiff pain I could currently feel along my back and everywhere else for that matter. I slowly opened my eyes with excruciating effort. At least I tried to before I was immediately blinded by a bright glaring light that shone directly into my eyes and forced my eyes closed once again. As I shut out the pain-inducing light before me and struggled to regain my vision I tried to come to grips with what had happened; my mind incredibly jumbled from having just woken up.

I lurched forward suddenly as the memories of what had just taken place that day, or what I thought was that day, came rushing back. A decision I Immediately regretted as my body proceeded to scream in gut-wrenching pain, making what had happened with the light seem almost pleasant in comparison. My bones creaked like rusty hinges and what muscles I had cramped erratically, leading to even the smallest movement to feel as if they were tearing themselves apart. The sudden movement also led to the return of that bone-drilling migraine at full force, almost making me lose consciousness once again. The only positive was the disappearance of the dreary bone-chilling cold that had followed me all morning like a haunting ghost, allowing me to bask in the small amount of warmth the so-called bed provided.

I stayed silent, unmoving, allowing the pain and agony to continuously wash over me in relentless attack before it slowly started to recede. As the pain went away and I let out a shaky breath in relief, my vision also began to return, adjusting to the glaring light present in the room. Once it did I looked around, noticing the pristine-looking room before me. The bed, the walls and the floor were all squeaky clean and an eye-blinding white, the only hint of colour being the pastel blue ceiling, breaking up the monotonous-looking room.

However, it was only when I looked to my right, trying to locate the source of that constant beeping that hadn’t stopped since I awoke, that I realised where I was. Beside me stood an old-looking machine, standing a bit lower than head height and looking like a miniature TV, displaying a series of numbers that constantly fluctuated with one of them appearing to be my heart rate.

‘Looks like Sam was right after all.’ I thought jokingly to myself, remembering how worried and urgent he felt that I needed to go get checked out. Which it seemed I inadvertently ended up doing, though I wasn’t exactly sure how.

While I continued scanning my surroundings, observing the grey and white wires from the heart rate monitor that snaked towards me and under my old grey hoodie, I noticed a small bright red button connected to the wall behind me. A button that stood out in the sea of otherwise blandness. Upon closer inspection, I realised it to be a call button, used to get a nurse's attention. I pressed it promptly, possessing a myriad of questions and in dire need of some answers. Less than a minute later the wooden door to the room was pushed open as a cheery middle-aged nurse hustled through, smiling towards me in greeting.

“Hello deary, it’s good to see you awake! How are you feeling? Is anything uncomfortable? Do you want anything to eat? I’ll go and get Dr. Soren for you now alrighty?” Like a whirlwind, she came and left in a blur, giving me zero chance to respond to any of her questions before vacating the room.

After barely a minute more the door was once again opened but instead of being greeted by the enthusiastic nurse from before, it was instead an older man. A man who looked to be in his early fifties with dark black hair and the occasional white strand peppered throughout, primarily around the sides. He also had pale blue eyes, shown clearly through a pair of large circular glasses he wore. A small, calming smile graced his lip as he steadily walked towards me.

“Ah! Good evening Mr. Collins. How are you feeling? Any aches or pains?”

“Uhh, I think I’m alright,” I answered dumbly as I went to sit myself up, grunting in pain from the use of my arms. “Actually I feel like shit if I’m being honest. I feel like I’ve just been hit by a truck.” As I spoke I felt a dull pain spread across my face and that seemed to originate from my jaw. Tentatively, I reached my hand towards my jaw and with a start felt the swollen mess it had somehow become.

Dr Soren, seeing the confusion on my swollen face, replied. “From what the paramedics told me when you arrived it seemed you had gotten into a nasty fight and received a heavy punch to the face. I’m afraid your jaw is going to be swollen for at least a few days.”

Hearing this I released a sigh, realising that the punch I saw from Matthew right before I collapsed must have connected.“Just my luck.” I muttered as I tentatively rubbed my jaw. “Well, at least it’s not like my day could get any worse.” I said jokingly, looking back towards the doctor.

Dr. Soren didn’t look back. His face was impassive and his eyes downcast. Reflecting a sense of sadness that immediately put me on edge as I felt a growing ball of apprehension in the pit of my stomach. A ball that only grew bigger as he eventually turned back towards me and spoke in a sombre tone.

“Mr Collins, There is no easy way to tell you this but I’m afraid I have some terrible news.” My blood froze. My knuckles an ashen white from how hard I was gripping the blanket underneath. Nevertheless, The doctor continued, “We ran some tests while you were asleep and we believe you to be suffering from something known as ‘chronic obstructive pulmonary disease’. Or COPD for short.”

Time seemed to freeze as I sat there in shock, staring towards the doctor. Waiting, praying for him to say he was messing around. That this was all just a big joke. Yet as the silence drew on, the only sound able to be heard being the rapid beeping of the heart rate monitor beside me, I realised he was serious.

“I don’t understand. What does that actually mean?” I asked, unable to keep the quiver out of my voice. A sense of worry filled me, as even despite never hearing of it before, I could tell just from the name, and the serious expression the doctor wore, it wasn’t anything good.

Without even giving the doctor a chance to respond I continued speaking in a panicked frenzy. “This must be some kind of mistake. I just have a regular cold. It doesn’t make any sense. You must have made a mistake!” My voice grew in strength, becoming a shrill yell by the end and drowning out all other noise in the room.

Dr. Soren began speaking as he walked towards me with apprehension. Yet whatever he said I couldn’t hear a word, the sound of my heart drumming and my blood pumping overpowering his voice. I felt the pain in my chest return with a vengeance as my breathing became short and sharp, leaving me gasping for air. I don’t know how long I stayed in that state of panic, only coming out of it when I felt a pair of hands firmly grasp each of my shoulders, pausing the slight rocking I had inadvertently been doing. I looked upwards to the source, making eye contact with a pair of solemn icy blue eyes.

“Adam, I’m so sorry.” The doctor whispered, forsaking the use of my last name, not like I even realised. A silence descended upon the room as I just sat there in shock, still unable to process what I had been told.

Dr. Soren continued to look on in sadness before beginning to speak once again. Answering the questions I had asked in my state of panic.

“I’m afraid there is no mistake Adam. We ran the tests multiple times just to confirm and you do appear to be suffering from chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. A disease that primarily affects and deteriorates your lungs and chest and can lead to a weakened immune system. Something that has no doubt contributed to the worsened effects of the cold you are also suffering from.”

“You’re wrong! How would I even get this disease? I’m only fucking 17!” I all but screamed back, finding my voice once again as I continued to vehemently deny what I had already started to realise was the truth.

“There are many different causes for this disease. Such as genetics, smoking or inhalation of certain fumes and chemicals. Although in most cases, people suffering from COPD won’t show symptoms until their late 40's. However, from the scans we procured, it appears the damage to your lungs is extensive, far more than should be even possible for a person your age.”

As he finished talking his eyes narrowed as he scanned me from head to toe in concentration, looking at me in question. He did this for what felt like minutes, leaving me feeling like a lab rat. “I have to ask.” He eventually said, his eyes returning back to normal. “And I hope you will be honest with me but I need to know how you could have possibly damaged your lungs to such an effect. Do you smoke?”

“No. Never.” I replied in outrage. While I had no shame in admitting I wasn’t the healthiest person to ever live, having no issue with junk food or alcohol. Smoking was one of the only things I would never do. Especially not after what had happened with my mother.

“Cigarettes are far too expensive” I joked, or at least attempted to, not wanting to tell him the true reason.

“Then maybe secondhand smoke?” He asked himself before promptly shutting down the idea “No, that wouldn’t have been able to cause this much lasting damage so quickly.” He looked up towards the ceiling, clearly lost in thought. “Have you ever been around welding fumes or certain dust, such as cadmium or coal dust for a long period of time?”

I was about to immediately decline, knowing I had never been anywhere remotely near where those fumes could be present. However, before I could, I suddenly remembered. Remembered the constant oxygen-depriving smog that covered the sky around where I lived. The persistent presence of smoke, smoke that clouded my vision both indoors and out. The smell of sulphur and chemicals that clung to everything I owned.

“I’m guessing that's a yes then?” Dr. Soren asked, seeing my reaction. I numbly nodded my head.

Both his calm demeanour and explanation throughout the whole ordeal seemed to have taken the wind out of my sails as I fell back down onto the bed. Looking once more at the bright lights up above, staring blankly as my mind tried to process all that had happened.