"Pikachu is my partner..." Red announced. "I am nothing without him."

Red had signed the papers. Mrs Swanna nodded her head and whispered to me, "I knew he would sign the sheet. He wants to think that Pikachu can survive." I rang the operation department and gave them the all clear. Whilst Mrs Swanna directed Red into the visitors room, Pikachu would have been transferred into theatre. There wasn't anything else I could do other than check to see if the operation is successful.

"The surgery is usually minor," I explained to Red. "We will administer medication that will put Pikachu to sleep and administer antibiotics to prevent infection."

Red gulped. "How long will it take?"

"The entire surgery will take a few hours."

"Do what you gotta do."

"Okay, I'll wheel him into the operation theatre," Mrs Swanna declared. About time she did something useful. It should have been easy, but as usual things get sidetracked. We were put to a halt by none other than Professor Oak. Spiritomb decided to stop in the middle of the hallway and watch what was going on.

"I've come to see my grandson," Professor Oak said. "Now who was it that I was going to see?" He pondered and scratched his head. "Did you know my latest grandson was born in this hospital?"

"Really?"

"At least I think he's my grandson... we were never married. Well he might as well have been my child, I was the only father figure Delia's son had and now his pikachu had a car crash. Oh I don't know what's the matter with me? Why do I keep thinking that Red and Ash are the same person?"

"I don't know," I said, patting his back. "Maybe you should see a doctor."

"I am perfectly fine," Professor Oak mumbled. He picked up his red pokedex from his pocket. It flipped open like a book. He slapped his head and grumbled again. "I can't remember how to work my pokegear." He was fiddling with the keypad as if he was racing against the clock to type out a letter. "I need to call my nephew Gary."

"Holy shit!" Spiritomb whispered to me. "He's got dementia."

"You shouldn't be swearing like that," I muttered back. Looking up to Professor Oak, I said, "That's your pokedex." Seeing Professor Oak struggling with his dementia was a strange experience, but not one that surprised me. Humans are living longer and everyone knows more about dementia. Professor Oak was still fully mobile and appeared to be orientated in time and space, but his memories appeared to be jumbled up. He can't distinguish individuals or genders anymore and that's a worrying sign.

There are drugs to slow down the process and ease the pain, but it's only going to get worse down the line. I don't see him being allowed to work anytime soon, but I can't imagine Professor Oak having a desire to retire. He gets the children of Pallet Town to run errands for him, and he's got plenty of people around him. Makes me wonder why they didn't spot the signs of him deteriorating sooner?

"No wonder," Professor Oak groaned. He used to have such a nice and sophisticated voice but now it only shows signs of his age. "Now I was going to see Red. Red's Pikachu got hit?"

"That's right!"

"Let me take you to the visitors room," Spiritomb said. "Red is in there."

"That's right," Professor Oak said. I normally hate it when Spiritomb uses his psychic powers to get his way, but it's actually done us a favour. "You better be looking after that Pikachu!"

One obstacle down. Mrs Swanna was wheeling Pikachu off as if she was in a race with me. I don't blame her; Pikachu's could go into a sudden cardiac arrest at anytime. If that happens, Pikachu could die in a few minutes.

"MATRON!"

Little Monica brightened up the corridor and swept from the end of the hallway all the way over to me in a matter of seconds. Grass-types are slow, but a sunny day plus chlorophyll combination double their speed. Many of the grass-type staff use this method to rush around, but it isn't always the best option. Sunny Day also powers up fire type moves, so if a patient in distress, and that very patient knew a fire type move, it can get ugly.

"What is it, Monica?"

"The champion of Unova wants to speak to you," Monica said.

"It's okay Matron," Mrs Swanna said as she opened the door to the operating theatre. "I'll take care of Red's Pikachu. We've got enough competent staff."

She must have known that I really wanted to be a part of that operation. Oh well, I guess it can't be helped. I looked down on Monica, who was only half the size of me and asked her, "So where is she?"

"She's in the pokemon centre lobby. She keeps asking for her Garchomp back the results have only just come through. I think he'll need an emergency amputation as well as a total pancreatectomy. The tumours in his tail where so intense. By cutting the tail off the cancerous cells will spread at a much slower rate."

"Do you have the results of any scans and tests you took?"

"Sure."

Monica passed me a folder containing copies of the scans and the results of the tests. I can see what she means, and I can tell that this Garchomp has pancreatic cancer. I know it seemed rash to make a diagnosis without even meeting the patient, but the documents make it hard and clear that he's in the advanced stages and would not have long to live.

"I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR HOURS AND I HAVEN'T HEARD ANYTHING ABOUT GARCHOMP!"

I knew it was Iris screaming. I'm not going to make things any better for her. Her haxorus and her friend was trying to make her feel better, but it wasn't much help. No big hair could hide that girl's tears.

"Look Iris," the bloke next her said. "Someone's coming our way. Maybe they know something about Garchomp."

"Good afternoon Iris," I said.

"What have you lot done to Garchomp?" she asked. She spoke to me as if we had kidnapped her pokemon and taken it hostage"I want him back now!"

"The machine has detected that something wasn't right about Garchomp," I explained to her. "So we had to take him with us for a short while. I'm sorry that the wait was a lot longer than expected. Would you like to talk in a more private area?"

"I think that would be a good idea," the guy nodded his head as he wrapped his arm around Iris. I had a feeling by his smart appearance and green hair that he was a connoisseur.

"We've been in lots of pokemon centres," Iris said. "They've told me there was nothing to worry about it."

"What exactly did they say?" I asked.

"Garchomp's skin has had patches of yellow and has lost a lot of weight but the Nurse Joys said that it was just old age."

"Don't worry," the man cooed. "The nurse will help us out."

"I just want to see Garchomp," Iris cried.

"Take us to Garchomp's room," I requested; take Iris out of her misery before she disturbs anymore patients. Monica nodded as she lead us into the cancer ward. Garchomp laid crying out for it's trainer. I could see yellow patches that resembled rashes on his skin and his tail was thick yellow. Garchomp was unable to open his eyes. His arms were like twigs stuck on rusted slacks of metal.

"Garchomp!" Iris released herself from the man's grip and threw herself onto Garchomp's side. "Have you been calling for me? I'm sorry... I wish there was something I could do to take all your pain away."

"Iris... I'm afraid I have some very bad news. Garchomp has pancreatic cancer." Those words soon killed that short smile. Nothing sweet about it. Many would deny it. They don't want to here from a plump pink thing that their best friend has cancer... as somebody quoted a few years ago. "Looking from the results and the scans we've had, and from what you've told me. It's clear Garchomp's had cancer for a long time."

"Is there anything you can do?"

"We can make sure that Garchomp is as comfortable as possible," I replied. "Insert a syringe driver for drugs."

"What about surgery or therapy?"

"The cancer has spread too much," I said. "This cancer is very hard to diagnose and surgery is only successful in the earlier stages. Radiotherapy might help, but the side effects could cause a lot of distress to Garchomp."

"I'm Garchomp's daughter," Haxorus informed me. "Can you please make sure my Dad has something to eat? It might help him gain some weight."

"We'll put him on a feeding drip if that's okay with Iris," I told Haxorus. "We can only do operations with trainers consent."

"Lance's Dragonite is my half-brother and Cynthia's Garchomp is my half-sister," Haxorus told me. "So I'll expect that they'll be coming soon."

"So what are you going to do?" the man with Iris asked. "When will Garchomp be able to leave?"

"As of now, I don't think it would wise for Garchomp to leave," I said. "We will find the appropriate treatment for him, and you may also have to consider Garchomp being moved into a residential home."

"A what?" Iris yelled. "Cilan what is she talking about?"

"You mustn't worry," Cilan said. "It's only if the nurse and doctors can't do anything else for Garchomp." Cilan cradled her again and assured her that we would do whatever we can to help Garchomp have a comfortable and peaceful death. Iris and Cilan are travelling about, they'll never know where the next pokemon centre is until they find one. A PC box would not help them because Garchomp could still deteriorate and he would have no one to help him. He's going to need care and nursing 24/7. Garchomp would have to go to a home if there's not enough beds for new patients.

"Garchomp is not going to a home," Iris snapped. "Alder would still be alive if he hadn't have been dumped in one of them, and thanks to the nursing home's faulty equipment, Drayden can't walk anymore."

I don't blame her for hating on nursing homes so much after what happened to the ones in Unova. But there's one nursing home for pokemon near Candice's Gym that has a very good reputation. Not all care homes are prisons for the sick, you just have to do your research. The problem is that the health care sector have so many staffing issues, that when things go bad, they go really bad. Then the media blow it way out of proportion because they public and expose bad practice.

Poor Garchomp hasn't got long left to live. What Iris needs to do is to be strong.