Again?

It's Thursday 3rd of March, I sat there constantly praying and patiently waiting for the results. I could feel the stress rise up and out of my skin with each molecule of water. 

"I am sorry to inform you, that we have detected it, it's there" The nurse's words splinter inside me causing more pain than cancer. Terminal, hospice and constant medical care only, meaning no grandchildren birthdays, no movies, and no dancing in the rain. I shall spend the rest of my life stuck between four walls and medication until death picks me up.

The constant thought of not being able to see my grandchildren grow to be the successful adults they are meant to be agitates me. There's nothing I can do about it, right? I was given a chance to survive in the past, I watched them grow older right in front of me, but the time has come, and I must accept that. It's 10 in the morning, I sat there on my hospital bed, feeling the tumor grow, spread and squash my organs. The smell of the bed, food and medication evoked the past.

"Hello Mrs Gellar, it's Greenwood's local hospital, I am sorry to inform you that you're diagnosed with lung cancer" This phone call from five years ago remains stuck in my memory. You must think that the most despairing part was receiving such appalling new, but it wasn't, it was the way the nurse said it, which lacked hope as if I was getting closer to my deathbed. 

I remember arriving home and crying till my eyes ran dry and my chest heaved violently. How do I tell them? It was extremely difficult to inform my family about such terrible news, I even thought about keeping it a secret, but then I realized the significance of having family support. What if family is all I need to go through chemo and beat cancer?

In the following day, we had a huge family gathering as usual. My three daughters; Emily, Joe and Bethany sat on the right side of the table. Meanwhile, my son Theodore along with my five delightful grandchildren sat on the left side. We had scrumptious Italian food ready to be served!  We sat eating and chatting for hours, until it was time, it was time to finally tell them! I remember drops of tears falling which were eventually followed by massive support and motivation.

"We're here for you, you're a strong woman, and we know you're going to get through it" I cannot explain how much these words meant to me! I truly love every single one of them!

Days and months of excruciating chemotherapy passed by, and they were right, I was finally cancer! It seemed like I was given a second chance to live which I am extremely thankful for!

Five years later, here I am, with terminal cancer, in the same hospital which has apparently become my new home. Although, my family cannot be around as they are all currently living abroad. I haven't informed them about my current situation because I know for sure they'd leave everything behind to come see me. I will try beating cancer on my own now and I will forever be blessed with ll the great retentive memories we shared together!

"Hurry, room 215, Mrs Gellar, she's not breathing. May she rest In Peace"