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Second Chance Chapter 2
"If you sign our program contract, and we collect your sample today, we will have you in your new body in six weeks. Sound good?"
"Uh.. um.. yeah, let's do it! Where do I sign?"
It only took about 2 more hours to give my DNA sample and fill out all the necessary paperwork. As I left Dr Strangs office, I had mixed emotions, though.
How would my family react to me suddenly dying in 6 weeks? I am very close with my mother, and this would devastate her, I feel. My Nana and my brother and sister, my nephew, my close friends at work...
I thought about the repercussions all the way home, sitting quietly at the bus stops and on the busses, staring into space and not paying hardly any attention to what was happening around me. As I got to my hotel and rode the elevator to the 6th floor, an idea started to form.
Dr Strang said that I would be a twelve year old boy, a clone, so I would still have the same DNA, right? He also said that they would "raise" me at their facility and create a new identity, birth certificate and everything. I wasn't really looking forward to living at that facility, it felt to me as if it would be like an orphanage, and I had a feeling it would be a nightmare.
But what if I could arrange it so that my mother could raise me again? Not as her SON, but as her GRAND-son... my mind started racing, coming up with ideas of how I could make it work. I could say that I had a long-lost son that I didn't know about, but that DNA testing proved was mine, and it would take a while before he could come live with me... hmmm, but I still had to fake my own death. This was gonna be awkward. The doc had said that most patients opted for a sudden, unexpected fake death, like a car crash or suicide, but I had insisted that I had to prepare my family for my demise; so we had agreed that I would come down with an extremely virulent case of cancer, and diagnosed with only a few weeks to live.
The doc told me he has hospital privileges, and he would set it up for me to have a private room, and he would act as attending physician. I would tell my family the news, then in 3 weeks I would enter the hospital after setting my affairs in order. My family would be allowed to visit me, but we would arrange it so that I would be alone at the time of my demise.
All this could still take place, I was thinking, but, how do I add a son to the mix?
I decided that I would sleep on it, and call the doc's office tomorrow to see it what I was thinking about was even an option. I ate dinner, and read a few chapters of stories I was following on Nifty before finally falling asleep.
The next morning, I woke up, went down for breakfast in the hotel lobby, then went back to my room. As I was showering, always a difficult process for someone my size, I grinned to myself, remembering that in a few months, I wouldn't be fat anymore, I would be a healthy young boy. I would be able to see my cock without having to look in a mirror, hell, I'd be able to REACH the damn thing without having to contort my body and lift rolls of fat to get to it. I froze as I realized one more very important fact: I would be able to jerk off again. Right now, with my body so big, I could reach my cock with some difficulty, but it was too exhausting to hold the rolls of fat away with one arm, and beat off with the other long enough to reach orgasm; my arms would shake with fatigue and I would lose my hard-on, and lose interest. But now, in a few months, all this fat would be gone! I was bubbling over with giddy excitement, planning hours-long sessions of jerking-off, laughing maniacally at the walls of my hotel room when the phone rang.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hi baby, how'd it go yesterday at the clinic?"
Deciding now would be a good time to set the stage, I took a deep breath to prepare myself. "Oh, hi mom. It was OK, but the doctor said he noticed some strange results and he took some tests to send for analysis."
"Oh my god... what kind of tests? What's wrong?" There was a very upset and almost panicked tone in my mother's voice, and I was feeling absolutely awful to have to put her through this.
"I'm not sure. I told him I've been really tired lately, and haven't had much appetite, but that I'm still not losing weight. He seemed kinda worried about that and suggested some tests. He took blood samples and sent them to a lab. We should get the results today or tomorrow he told me." There was quiet on the other end of the phone, I could tell that my mother was trying not to panic, but there was little I could say to reassure her. After all, I was supposed to prepare her for me to die from cancer.
Her voice was shaky and quiet when she asked me, "Did he give any ideas what could be wrong?"
I hesitated, but I had to say the word. I had to get it out there and prepare her for what was to happen. "He didn't say it so many words, but... I think... I think it may be c... cancer."
"FUCK!" was all I heard, and then what sounded like the phone hitting the floor and some hard taps and shuffles. I guessed that she dropped the phone, and may have kicked it or was having trouble getting a grip on it to pick it back up, all the while, I could hear her in the background, "... oh my god... my baby... cancer... shit... fucking phone.... oh my god... Peter? Are you still there?"
"Yes mom, I'm still here." I said, kinda amused, but still feeling like shit for lying to her like this, my guts were churning, and I felt like I might lose my breakfast from the guilt.
"Oh Petey, my baby, cancer? Oh my god!"
I had to say something to calm her down, I felt like this was too much, to fast, I had to slow this down, soften the blow a little bit, "Hey, we don't really know, I said I THINK it could be cancer, we won't know until the tests come back. Please don't worry."
"Don't worry?! I'm your mother, of course I worry! Oh baby, this is horrible, cancer, just like your father..." Yeah, just like my father, which was why I knew this would work. His cancer had been very rapid also, he went from healthy one day, to bedridden in the hospital 1 month later, and died 2 months after that; about twice as long as mine would take, but I knew my mother wouldn't question it.
"Mom! We don't know that! I said 'I think'..., look try to calm down, ok? I'll call you once the doctor lets me know something, I gotta go now. I love you."
"Ok, Peter, I love you. Call me as soon as you know, ok? Bye."
"Bye mom." I hung up the phone and sat on my bed, feeling all kinds of misery over what I'm putting my mother through. I felt nausea and could feel a headache coming on. I laid down on the bed and decided to take a short nap before heading to work since I was working the closing shift and didn't have to be in until 4. I set my phones alarm app just in case I didn't wake on my own, and closed my eyes.
I opened my eyes again a little later, my nap had lasted about 2 hours, and now it was close to noon. My stomach had settled, and the headache seemed to have gone away. I decided that I would call the doc's office and ask him about the "long-lost-son" idea.
The phone rang and the receptionist answered, placed me on hold, and a few minutes later, Dr Strang picked up, "Mr Mills. Hello. I didn't expect to hear from you so soon. No second thoughts I hope?"
"Uh, no sir. I just... uh.... I was thinking, about after I wake up, when I'm a kid again, and I have to live in that orphana... I mean, facility... What I mean is, do I HAVE to live in the facility? Or can I maybe make other arrangements?"
"What sort of arrangement were you thinking about? Remember, we have to do monthly testing on your clone." He answered.
"What I mean is, maybe I could tell my family that I had a son, and after I d-die, he could come and live with them... wo-would that be possible? I mean, my mother could take me in for the tests, and I would be able to stay in contact with my family, and..."
"Easy, Peter. You're not the first to want to do this. We can make the arrangements but it won't be easy. Is your mother able to raise a grandson? Financially, I mean?"
"Well, it won't be easy, but she already has custody of my nephew, so I would live with them. He'll be a little older than me, he's turning 14 later this year, but she could get some help from Social Services or something, right? I mean, she gets help already for my nephew, so she could get some for me, right?"
"Absolutely, however, I think we may be able to work something else out. Let me get with my sponsors, and I will call you back with your answer."
"Ok doc. Thanks for being willing to work with me here."
"No problem, Peter, talk to you later. Goodbye."
"Bye." I hung up the phone, feeling a little better; after all, a new grandson would distract my mother a little bit from the pain of losing her son, wouldn't it?
I relaxed for a little while, playing Minecraft on my laptop, then got ready and left for work. It takes almost 2 hours to travel to work, and 3 busses, but I finally arrived after walking the final block from the bus stop. I was sweating and already exhausted just from the ride to work, but I had an entire shift to get through, and I still had to let my manager and co-workers know what was about to happen.
I work in a convenience store, which means I do everything, from baking to cleaning toilets, to stocking, to working the register. Being as heavy as I am, I have ground away all the cartilege in both ankles, so of course I have a job where I'm on my feet 8 hours a day, right? Just my luck, but I've been here over 2 years, and I just can't muster up the energy to go out looking for something else. I used to work in call centers, answering phones, but it got to the point where if I had to listen to just one more idiot complain about something stupid ad nauseum, I would commit mass murder. I'm serious, you've heard about people "going postal" right?, well, I was about to "go CSR" so I got out of that industry, and into retail. Believe me, customers are much more reasonable face to face.
I entered the store, and waived hello to the girls working the registers and to a few regulars that I saw making their purchases. I've been here a few years, and there are alot of people I recognize as regulars, and I realized as I waived to their greetings, that I would miss them. They were a big part of my day, and I had gotten to know alot of them, their families, and what was happening in their lives. Huh. I never thought about it before. Anyway, I made my way to the office to clock in and give my doctors note to the manager.
"Hi Peter, how'd it go yesterday? You got your doctors note for your file?"
"Hey Mark, yeah, here you go." I handed him the note and turned to the computer to clock in, "it went ok, but the doctor sent away for some lab tests and I won't know for a few days."
"Lab test? For what, I thought this was a weight loss clinic?" Mark looked confused, after all, I had told him that I was just visiting a beriatric clinic to see if they could help me lose weight. I had come to see Mark as almost a friend over the last few years of working for him, he's a great guy, and a fantastic manager, one of the best I'd ever worked for.
"Well, the doctor said he was concerned about some things. Something about me being tired all the time and not eating, but yet not losing any weight. To be honest, it was a little scary, and I left his office feeling a little worried. Anyway, we won't know for a few days, and I see no sense in getting an ulcer about it. So what's up today, anything I need to know about for the store?"
He filled me in on projects that needed to be worked on, what had already been done, and gave me a list of chores that still needed to be done. It would only be me and Terry tonight, since Mark and Natalie were clocking out in just a few minutes. The night went smoothly, and just like clockwork, the chores were done, and I closed the store at midnight. I caught the last bus of the night, and went back to my hotel and went to bed. Tomorrow would be the day. And shit was about to hit the fan when my "results" came back from the lab.