Three months after being diagnosed
I awake to the loud ringing of my alarm clock reminding me to take my medicine.
I sit up, rubbing my eyes, and look at the digits that read midnight. As I slowly walk across my room, I try not to trip over any of the textbooks I left on the floor from the night before.
Attempting to graduate early is no walk in the park. At least I am finishing one year before all my friends, I think to myself. I don't want them to see the process of cancer taking over my body. As such, I decided that I am not going to tell anyone at school about my sickness.
I fumble with the switches on my wall trying to figure out which one is my lamp until a bright light startles me. It forces my eyes shut and sends a rude awakening throughout my entire body. Once I get used to it, I head to the bathroom and open my medicine cabinet. I look through dozens of pill bottles that I have marked for their use.
Bruising pills, nausea pills, headache pills, muscle cramp pills, pain pills, a.m. pills, infection pills, sleeping pills, not to mention the nutritional supplements I have to take with every meal.
These pills do a good job at alleviating the pain but, if I miss so much as one dose, I'm in unbearable suffering for the rest of the day.
I reach up and pull out the bottle labeled a.m. pills, twist the top open, and pop two in my mouth. I feel them stuck in my throat and try to help them down by swallowing. I make a sour face in reaction to the bitter residue it leaves in my mouth.
After taking a long sip of water, I make sure to quietly retreat to my bedroom without waking anyone up. My family has already lost enough sleep over me.
To say these past few months have been hard; is an understatement. Dr. Khan, the doctor handling my treatment plan, suggested that we attempt to manage the pain and halt the growth of cancer with pills for a few months. Then, we can determine whether or not I want or need chemo. Which is an elaborate way of saying I have three months to decide whether or not I want to live.
My parents and Grant have been begging me for weeks to start chemo as early as possible, but I refused. I understand their reasoning. However, I don't want to spend my junior year of high school restricted to a hospital bed, and I don't want to be remembered as the girl with cancer either.
If I select to go through with the chemo, I want to be doing it for myself, not for anyone else.
I honestly don't know what I am going to decide. If I chose to go through with the chemo, there's a chance that my body will not respond well and turn against me. If I refuse treatment, the disease will take over my body and kill me slowly.
I have an unfavorable decision to make.
Once I pull the blankets over my cold and slender body, I find it hard to fall asleep again. Nausea is one of the many side effects that are listed on the back of my pain pills. I have been prescribed a nausea medication just for this reason. Considering all of the medicine I take, getting through a whole day of school is like running a marathon for me.
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One Perfect Day
RomanceCancer. It's a curse. It turns people's lives upside down and ruins their relationships. Brynne Foster is a perfect example. After being diagnosed with leukemia at age 17, Brynne's family struggles to accept her decision of refusing chemotherapy...